1' ‘ ! ‘flé‘ could devise, or money purchase, and Rose was very happy there, dancing like a sunbeam through the hand- some rooms of which she was the mist- ress, and singing as gaily as her pet canary in its gilded cage by the door. . care had ever crossed her pathway. and the eighteen summers of her short life had come and gone like so many pleasant memories bringing with them one successive round of joys, leaving no blight be- hind, and bearing with them, alas, no thanks for the good bestowed, for Rose was far too thoughtless to think that ““J ‘ï¬A- (VA â€UVVUVVl, Iv ku-v the sight of her" hâ€"dshandv's evening prayer, and laying her curly head upon his knee, she gave vent to her restless- ness in the expression. “I wish there wouldn’t be any war. What is it all for? _Tell me, glease.†lullllla Luvwnun “_- ___ a fresh 'lustreJto the elegant furniture she could not shake it off, nor guess what it was that ailed her. At last however, it came to _her‘, suggested by It was the first interest she had evinced in the matter, and glad to talk with any one upon the subject which was beginning to occupy so much of his own thoughts, Mr. Mather drew her into his lap, and endeagored, ‘as for -O-l‘v .â€" â€"v- as possible, to explain to her what it all was for. Much of what he said, however, was Greek to Rose, who only gained a vague idea that the North was contending for a bit of cloth, such as she had often seen floating over the dome of the old State House: in Boston, and with the remark, that men's lives were far more valuable: than all the Stars and Stripes in the! world, she fell away to sleep leaving| her husband in the midst of an or u- ment not. quite clear to himself, or, like his wife, he could not then see ex- actly what the war was for. Still, in- asmuch, as there was war, he would not play the coward’s part, nor shrink from the post. of duty if his country should need his services. But this Rose did not know, and secure in the belief that whatever might happen, Will would never go, she soon resumed her wonted cheerfulness, and if she said anything of the war, was sure to startle her hearers with some remark quite unworthy of a New England daughter. She did wish they would stop having so many meetings, she said, or if they must have them, she wished they’d get Brother Tom to come and set. them right. He had lived in Char- leston. He could tell them how kind the people were to Mary, his sick wife, and were it not that ’twas beneath. him to lecture, she’d surely write for him to come. Rose Mather was grow- ing unpopular by her foolish speech- es, and when at last, she was asked to join with other ladies of the town in making articles of clothing for the vol- unteers, she. added the last drop to her brimming bucket, by tossing back her chestnut tresses, and “guessing she shouldn’t blister her hands over that coarse stuff. She couldn't sew much any way, and as for making bandages and lint, the very idea was sickening. She’d give them fifty cents if they wanted. but she positively couldn’t do more than that, for she must have a new pair of lavender kids. She had worn the old ones three ’or four times and Will preached economy every day. -_- With a frown of impatience, the ma-‘ tron who had been deputed to ask help from Rose, took the fifty cents, and with feelings anything but complimen- tary to the silly little lady, went back to the hall where scores of women were. busily employed in behalf of the com- pany, some of whom would never re- turn to tell how much good even the homely housewife, with its pins and needles, and thread, had done them when far away where no mother or sis.- ter band could reach them. nor yet how the thought that perhaps a dear one’s fingers, had torn the soft linen band, or scraped the tender lint applied to some gaping wound, had helped to ease the pain and cheer the homesick heart It was surely aWork of mercy in which our noble women were then engaged, and if from the group collected in Rmkland Hall, there was much loud murmuring at Rose Mather's want of sense or heart, it. arose not so much from ill-nature, as from astonishment that she could be so callous and indiff- erent to an object of so much im- portance. _ - “\Vait till her husband goes, and she won't mince along so daintily, taking all that pains to show her Balmnral, when it isn't one bit muddy," mutter- ed the “'idow Simms, pointing out, to those near the window, the lady in question, tripping down the street in quest of lavender kids, perhips, or more likely, bound for her husband's office, where, now that everybody: worked all day long at the Hall, she spent much of her time, it was so lone- 1y at home, with nobody to call. “I hope he’ll be drafted and have to go, upon my word!" continuing the wid. ow, wlnee heart was very sore with thinking of the three seats at her fireside, so soon to be vacated by her darling boys. Eli. John and Isaac. CHAPTER II. beautiful “Yes, I do hope he’ll be ’drafted, don’t you, Mrs. Graham?†and she turned to- ward Annie, who was rolling up ban- dages of linen; and weaving in with every coil a prayer that the poor sold- ier, whose lot it should be to need that band, might return again to .the loved ones at home, or else be ï¬tted for that better home, where war is unknown._ ‘ - J L--‘ mnl‘n nn answer. There was no bitterness now in her heart against Rose Mather. She had prayed that all away, and only hoped the anguish which had come to her, making her brain giddy, and her heart faint, might never be borne by another, if that could be. George had volunteered,â€"- was to be second lieu- tenant, and Annie, oh, who shall tell of the gloom which had fallen so dark-i 1y around the cottage she had called hers for one brief year. It was a neat, cozy dwelling, and to Annie it never seemed so cheerful as on that memor- able night of the war-meeting, when she had lighted the lamp, and sat down with George upon the chintz-covered lounge he had helped her make when first she was a bride. It is true the carpet was not of velvet, like that Rose Mather trod on; neither was there in all the house one inch of rosewood or of marble, but. there was domestic love, pure and deep as any Rose ever experienced, and there was something better far than that. a patient, trus- ting faith in One who can shed light upon the dreariest home, and make the heaviest trial seem like nought. It was this trusting faith which made Annie Graham the sweet, gentle being she was, shedding its influence over her whole life, and softening down a disposition which otherwise might have been haughty and resentful. An- nie was naturally high-spirited and proud, and Rose's remarks; concerning volunteers in general, and George in particular, hrzd stung her to the quick, but. with the indignant mood there came another impulse, and ere the cot- .tage had been reached the bitter feel- ing had gone, leaving nothing but sor- grow that it had ever been there. Like ERose, she wished there would he no war, but wishing was of no avail, and long after George Graham was asleep and dreaming, it may he, of glories won on battle-fields, Annie lay awake, questioning within herself, whether she ought, )y word or deed, to prevent her husband’s goingnif he felt r..- . _____ as he seemed to feel, that it was as much his duty as that of others to join in his country’s defence. Annie was no great reasoner, logically; all her decisions were made to turn upon the simple question of right and wrong. and on this occasion she found it hard to tell, so evenly the balance seemed adjusted. More than once she stole from her pillow, and going out into the fresh night air, knelt in the moonâ€" light, and asked for guidance to choose the right, even though that right should take her husband from her. This was his idea, and ere the cling- ing arms had unolasped themselves . from his neck, his imagination had lileaped forward to the future, and in litancy George Graham wore, if not a. ' Colonel’s, at least a Captian's uniform. ; and the cottage on the hill. which An- n nie so much admired, and for the pur- 3 chase of which a few hundred were 111-- - 3 ready saved. was his,â€"hought with the [ imoney he would earn. The deed ishould be drawn in her name, too, he isaid. and he pictured her to himself “coming dov'vn the walk to meet him, r ‘ with the rose-blush on her cheek, just r as she looked the first time he ever i, saw her. Something of this he told “If I knew he would not die, it would not be so hard to give him up,†she murmured, as sickening visions of fields strewn with the dead, and hos- pitals filled with the dying, came over her, and for an instant her brain reel- ed with the thought of George dying thus, and leaving her no hope of meet- ing him again, for George’s faith was not like hers. Anon. however, something whispered' to her that the God she loved was on the field of carnage, and in the camp and in the hospital, and everywhere. as much as there in Rockland, thatt prayers innumerable would follow the! brave volunteers, and that the evil she so much feared might be the means of working the great good she so de- sired. And thus it was that Annie came to a decision. Stealing back to her husband’s side. she bent above him as he lay sleeping, and with a heart which throbbed to its very core, though the lip uttered no sound, she gave him to his country asking, if it could be, that he might come back again, but if it were ordered otherwiseâ€"“God’s will be done." There was no shrink- ing after that sacrifice was made ithough when the morning came, the deathâ€"white face and the dark circle beneath the eyes, told ofaweary vigil, such as many and many a woman kept both North and South, during the dark hours of the Rebellion. But save the deathâ€"white face, and heavy eyes, there was no token of the inner struggle, as with a desperate effort at self-com- mand, Annie wound her arms around her husband's neck, and whispered to ' him, “You may go,-â€"I give my free con- sent,†and George, who cared far more to go than he had dared express, kissed the lips which tried so hard to smile, little dreaming what it cost his brave young wife to tell him what she had. To one of his temperament, there was no danger to be feared for himself. The bullet which might strike down a bro- ther at his side would be turned away from him. Others would, of course, be killed. but he should escape un- harmed. In the language of one speak- er, whose eloquent appeal had done much to fire his youthful enthusiasm, "He was not going to be shot, but to I sheet somebody‘l" to reassure her, an after. she started for the Hall. she thew flower-beds more taswmu, ....... they were now arranged. and teach the drooping vines to twine more gracefully around the slender columsxï¬s e supporting the piazza in front. would have seats. too,â€"â€"willow-twisted chairs ‘beneath the trees. where She and George could sit at ' ° watch the shadows creeping across the hollow where the old cottage was. and up the opposite hill, where the cupola of Rose Mather's home was plainly visible, blazing in the April sunshine. It was a very pleasant cas- tle which Annie built, and for a time the load of pain, which, since George. volunteered. had lain so heavy at her so brown and small. and looking 31" ready so desolate, because she knew that ere many days were over, she should wait in vain for the loved foot- steps coming down the road,â€"-should mlss the pleasant, cheery laugh. the teaslng joke and words of love which made the world all sunshine. The cot- tage on the hill became a worthless thing 38 Door Annie forced back her tears, and with quickened steps hur- ried on to join the group of ladies busy at the Hall. Taking her seat by the window. she commenced the light work imposed on her, that of tearing and winding bandages for those who might be wounded. 1' ‘_L_ VV uuuuu :‘ï¬aybe there’ll never be no fight“ but it's well enough to be prepared. was the soothing remark of the bud-- hearted woman who gave the work to Annie. noting, as she did so, how the lip quivered and the cheek paled at the very idea. ‘ " ‘I ‘1 __fl9) tux; "llJ -‘uvw- “\Vhat it George should need them?" kept suggesting itself to her as she worked industriously on, hoping that if he did. some one of the rolls she was winding might come to him, or better yet, if he could only have the. bit of soft linen she had brought her-Q self,â€"a piece of her own clot hing. and bearing on it her maiden name. Annie Howard. He would be sure to know it. she said. it was written so plainly with indelible ink. and it would make him feel so glad. But there might be other Annie Howards, it was not an uncommon name, was suggested next to her, as she tore the linen in strips, and quick as thought, her hand sought the pocket of her dress for the pencil which she knew was there. Glanring around to see that no one observed her, she touched the pencil to her lips and wrote after the name, “It’s your Annie, George. Try to believe I’m there. Rockland. April, 1861.†There were big teardrOps on that bit of linen. hut Annie brushed them away, and went on wiih her rolling, just as \Vidow Simms called her atâ€" tention to Rose Mather. as mentioned several pages back. Annie could not account for it to herself, but ever since Rose's arrival at Rockland, she had felt a strange inexplicable interest in the fashion- able belle; an interest prompted by something more than mere curiosity. and now that there was an opportun- ity of seeing her without being her- self seen. she straightened up, and smoothing the soft braids of pale' brown hair, waited for the entrance of the little lady, who, with her pink hat set jauntily on her chestnut curls, and her lit'h fur collar buttoned grace- fully over her handsome cloth cloak, tripped into the room, doing much by her sunny smile and pleasant manner to disarm the ladies of their recent prejudice against. her. She was no- thing but a child, they reflected; a spoiled, petted child; she would im- prove as she grew older, and came more in contact with the sharp corâ€" ners of the world, so those who had the honor of her acquaintance, receiv- ed her with the familiar deference, if we may be allowed the expression, which had always marked their man- iner toward William Mather’s bride. i Rose was too much accustomed to soci- ‘ety to be at all disconcerted by the hundred Pair of eyes turned scrutiniz- ingly, toward her. Indeed, she rather enJOYed being looked zzi, and she toss- ed the coarse garmems about with a pretty playfulness, saying that “since the ladies had called upon her she had thought better of it, and made up her mind to martyr herself one afternoon fit least, and benefit the soldiers. To .. -v vuv GUI-LIV {inc-he's shorter. which had happened to she lying pear. Loud was the shout gwhich a discovery of this mistake call- ;ed forth nor was it at all abated when lRose deniurely asked}! it would not i Ann-g-‘_‘ be sure there wasn't much she could do. She might hold yarn for some- body to wind, she supposed, but she couldn’t knit, and she didn't want to sew on such ugly, scratchy stiff as thoe flannel shirts, but if somebody would thread her needle, and fix it all right, she’d try what she could do on a pair of drawers." For a time one seemed inclined to volunteer her services, and Widow Simm’s shears clicked spitefully loud as they cut through the cotton flan- nel. At last, however, Mrs. Baker, who had more than once officiated as washerwoman at the Mather mansion, came forward and arranged some work for Rose, who, untying the strings of L-.. ...:_I_ L- A succeeded in sewing up and joining iogether‘a iong leg _ with one some -._-.Lâ€" â€" answer for answer for some soldier who 8130513 chance to have, a. 1' b ' low the knee. 1m shot: off Just be- “The little simplet-c‘n! !†muttered the I": t‘n‘†“'1‘: I- If “The little simpleton !†muttered the widow, white Mrs. Baker pointed out to the discomfited lady that one divis- ion of the drawers was right side out and the other qung! MLAâ€"A â€"- â€" vv -uua. There was ino alternative save rip tin ontire thing and with Blow ua'“ to twine more , slender columns I in front. She ,,__willow-twisted trees. where She at twilight. and _--~ ‘wovï¬ld arrange tastefully than Ive save to ' out, as she \worked, that Will letting known better than to send 1d call her a secessionist unless she did something to benefit the soldiers. She didn't care what they called her; she knew she was a democrat, or used to be before she was married; but now that Will! was a re- publican, she hardly knew what .she was; any way, she was nob a secesswn- ist, and she wasn't particularly inter- ested in the war either; why should she be?â€"Will was not going, nor Bro. ither Tom, nor any of her friends. . “But somebody's friends are going, â€"somebody's Will, somebody’s 'l‘orn; as dear to them as yours are to you." came in a rebuking tone from a straight-forward, outspoken woman, who knew from sad experience that “somebody's Tom was going." "Yes, I know," said Rose, a shadow for an instant; crossing her bright face, ‘and it's dreadful, too. \Vill says Newport next summer, without the Southern people. One might as well stay at home. The war might have been avoided. too, by a little mutual ‘forbearance from both parties, until 'matters could be amicably adjusted, for Brother Tom said so in his letter Elast night, and a heap more which I i can't remember." ‘ ‘4‘ VD" D LU Hwy-- Here Rose paused quite exhausted. with the effort she .had made to repeat the opinion of Brother Tom. She 11 1d read all his last letter fully indorsing as much of it as she understood, and after a little shenweut ou: [low the (human eta French Frigate Saved 3 Ship's Crew. The good ship Regular, while on a voyage from Liverpool to Bombay, was caught off the Cape of Good Hope in a gale. She sprung a serious leak, and captain and crew had to take to the boisterous sea in open boats. They had run so far off the course of vessels that there was small prospect of res- cue. What seemed the direct inter- vention of Providence was evident in their case," says Commander Pasco, in “A Roving Commission.†Captain Roi of the French frigate L’Alcmene, who rescued the captain and crew from the boats tells how it was brought about. He was on the deck of his vessel at the moment, as after- ward appeared, when the sinking ship was abandoned, and remarking to the officer of the watch that it was time to change the course of L‘Alcmene, he went below to consult the chart. "I went into my cabin,†he says, “ for the sole purpose of consulting the chart, but paused for a moment to glance at a book that lay open on the table. There I fell asleep, at most un- usual thing for me during daylight. “I slept on, I knew not how long, but when I waked it was dark and I was both cold and hungry. My last waking thought had been of chang- ing the vessel’s course; and [went on deck, supposing that had been done, but found the ship still steering east. “How is this '?â€-I asked, 'did I not direct the course to be altered V†“ ‘I was told that you were going to consult the chart,†replied the off:- cer, ‘and then fix the course.’ “‘So I did; what time is it ?’ Iask- ed. “ ' All right,‘ [ said, ‘we will continue on this course until we get sights for longitnde in the morning.’ “‘Past midnight, sir; this is the middle watch. “ Before that was done \i'e had sight- ed one boat and rescued its crew; and we kept on the same course until we found the second boat.†The (‘anse of Insanity Among the Native 0! lmllu. The reports of the asylum at Cairo, Egypt, as to the native patients there exhibiting the nature of the mentale l disturbance associated with the excesw sive use of hasheesh are said to show, some remarkable facts, it ‘appearingl that in 41 per cent of all the male patients hasheesh alone, or in combin- ation with alcohol, caused the mental symptoms, while this was the case with‘ only 7 per cent. of the females. As to whether there is aspecial recognizable. form of mental disturbance produced by hasheesh, authorities conclude that in a considerable number of cases in Egypt the hasheesh is the chief if not ,the only cause of such mental disease. "l‘he usual types of the disease are hasheesh intoxicationâ€"that is, an el- ated and reckless swaggering state. with optical delusions and hallucina- tions. Acute mania is another torm of hasheesh insanity, involving fright- ful hallucinations, restlessness, sleep- lessness, incoherence and exhaustionzl again, there is exhibited a weak-mind-‘ edness. and . the patients, though well{ behaved, .being excitable about the for a infâ€"egg}; by May lat. 1901. A PROVIDENTIAL RESCUE. FAST ATLANTIC SERVICE USE OF HASHEESH. â€"'.'I‘_0 be Continued. - 'v “W “a" It service to Vb. inn lat, 1901. ugunted WHICH HAS MADE. napuunou T From the Advertiser, Ha Th9. Advarï¬mn- I- ..... â€land‘ N' B. berman and farmer, came being a cripple f. vâ€, dread disease so Iggiflem“m.ni: St. John River. Mr. Teiit 51°“ ‘5‘ years of age. Five. years“ taken With the first syrn two in w“ matismâ€"over eitposurep 0mg Dirk“. drives and the general the mm“ the lumierman, paved th hard life of lodgment of the excruciaetlway tout†[he symptoms first ma 'lflg dm pains through the. legs at est “to bands. Gradually cond'tqm' Ind worse. At intervals ther Hons grow an abatement of the maled would he months each year he wasa y, butt†helpless. The pain “was very nearly that sleep was out of tat? agontzm‘ and. to work was immsgbqumm‘ afflicted man had so oft ‘ k. Tho wonderful efficacy of (ii) â€its (lithe Pink Pills in cases. similar. ‘tllmm' that be. resolved to try threutioms 0m however. that he was not 51km", reeeivmg much benefit aopefuld tried many medicines wit’hout‘3 he bud result following. lie hega â€:11ng the Pills and liv the timena “m 0‘ boxes were use}! he found ‘ï¬oupleot helping him. Thus: enmura dey were tmued the use. of the 5931i"hmn' gradually the pains and mm and hilp, he W718 able to sleep 22301385 Mi enJoyed an exeellem man: {hand after using Dr. “'illiams’ e" knf'm for less than two i m mi. . months Mr. 1‘9.th says} he found himself in the be health. He is now a warm it" 8(i at this great medicine and ur 01911.9( lar sufferers not to experimiistmi. other medicines. but at ones hil‘tliii use of Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pillsgm Rheumatism, . soutica, hen-'algia partnl paralysis locomotor ata " nervous headache. nervous proctratm' and disease depending: upon hum 1031. the. OhiOOd. such as scrotula ciiicitiii: erystpelas. etc.. :ill (ii-'appear‘befnrea fair treatment with Pr William" Pink Pills. They give a healthy ploy to pale and sallmv emnplexioas Qold ' by all dealers and post paid at Silt a . hos or six lows in" €2.71"- hv address- ; 112g ï¬ll?“ Dr. \Vi'lI-amu' Mol‘cine (‘o , roe v1 0. Out: Do not , .. ' to take some suhditutemA POTSWM "It all depends upun the my in Wh?ch married life Ls Cummenoed uto whether a. coup]!1 haw or have not any secrets Letwven 111 m " says a writer. put his wife .1‘ topiu. “AIM h‘re. (on, :2 Bed quwtion: â€"â€" 25 open earh utller's to my thinking. 1“ th's qumtimx. 111» being that. they >1 topic. . "And hu‘e. too, mi 0‘ a much d1â€; 88d question: â€"â€" Sh um ° open Gad) uther's lvuel‘b? to to my th9nking. M “(I m0 “memo†{his question. lbs only rmsonahle Bin that. the' >lmuld not. "'lglere are I’llnld‘l‘il.‘ and thousands of remarks vxh‘vh a 1M" husband or wife might 1113 and casuallv Which mi'rhx give often“: . ' . ‘ n mum». pdm to one, for \\11 ml the ~01“ (ion was not intended. ' letters coming: whiih. 'f read 1'. quim a. deal of mp1: raking up of pm~ ' " long over and done wit. particular letter. ' wife or husband wh VIII.“ "\' "Il\‘.v “Let. 11mm}; ‘ and other thmou hly am ‘ . ‘ g lich 9â€â€ keep their ownâ€"“W 1. also be other pamph‘f first to last. Wiih imP It re(wires over .l‘nn the Crystal P11". It birely Pays itself. I wonder why Kev I know he domn't I They say it is [won suspicious bcggnx. “7113'. what; has with it? He can't believe I! H USB A N US A .\'D WIVES. l l"'ul' wu h imp“nlty sUSPICIOUS- JIM n) unsung or recmn; 1 We. of others. provided ;;. 1 MM. features before Itivn «uniï¬ed! The truth is. 1' “.7 '0 do thingu. oftentimns. i 1th things m do, that injur A“ 1â€"- ere interested in them. as «h hilt-your opportunity tom» .01 do work for Jesus. There are t and mothers who come to rhos “radical meetings, just In hm Gillian. who never go to chmcl hum thought in the song )1 ‘1 hip them to think of Jms‘l hunt to know Him. Would m: bbutitufl So you mus Hug Mend “k God to help you d< (It! with your long." M any one believe that :1 «'1 Mind. trogn ghy to day. um L._,I A [how a mother who talked litth [id of eight after this 11) “Curtain†on may sing at 2. «yahoo! ju iloe. You 1410 ms. wondorful singer, my «1 nothinkl you are; but God In! all“! u a Sunday-school anni‘ 1†form of entertainment whi â€or permltl any of these evi gothtooeemeetly deplored. Ye handler tide. I believe. an« Unlined for yearn. and have had lid Mthened by experienm a. quite little children :11 built to recite Bible verses, a nebulae selections, and to an Ur friend; not only without loch-nukes. but with posmv 'W my mucn coum l a m- Iib of the question. m will be ready to witne â€bu been done their child: â€d hte hour- and imprOpe1 m in .idwinter. and unnatu ‘t‘t oonnectod With appear‘l (a. corowd. and all the othq cut my attend even so innoo If. we" “ paraded " before I'D- “ ho fed with the mistake “no that were distinguishing # “inborn-xi“ in which '3 t M Chocolate.â€"-This is 3 ¢ “It quite fit to “set before a K.“ Winning. have everythi Wt“ us two squares of um '0‘ chocolate, tour rounded W Granulated sugar. four Null hot water; one 5.11qu lit; “I ultspoon vanilla. nm â€or yolk- Of (our (whims and “ “Dar-stew.) one-half c a“. Ono-quarter (‘up of mm. .3“. Qhooolate and \vsno'r 3‘0 ghlny paste. lening it * “ï¬ch carefully that it W- Add one-half cum hum“!!! one tablespuonfui. - 5° Oddod to the eggs mp1 h" “Idling ° . . and one-quntar c it “4 ltll' until it buils. ‘ L “In boiler over hm “aye â€I tut. After it‘ tkf1‘i4 “I. white- in lightly and g N W the hgt. water tvn :h u†91.06 of chocolate for 5...?†ï¬tting in made by h! “1 t“ 0‘ two eggs and r1 .Afld two teaspoon“ . yin...“ that many prel "“‘w‘n any eggs. Bui Will. 0‘ granulated . u u fi‘ht for C.hi14 Wm public ontGTtalm uh pl“ ion“ by mothers am ††ï¬ght-it, who is EIW'I ’le for church en‘ II at! the like. There at «a win people. who“ 01"“ __A.I.- n6 lhnnahfflll 0‘ DOMETIC RECEIPTS. much could and