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rota. run for the 9111‘ by”: swallowed 10‘“ aves or sprigs ofi sweet elves, lend almost a thingâ€"a dainty frag- nt as fancy and so dell- * 03L sensitive and £38- joy it; ay the Closer a trunk is er things will carry. It fold a dress skirt in” an tarched muslin, or camâ€" e puryose, so as to do- imum the possibility 01 1113. Now that. frills ve come back, these shoe polish; â€" but a e'. miik on a. flannel g gently. hes and whisk brooms woollen cloth are, well an with. Tissue paper at boxes, among rib- or millinery will an" . That one 81??“ cc. \\'ith the 718103 the mirror in 53" ays the part of that 1131 to anything. 0'” ‘t, though she 18°81” people praise he! ‘0’ lf-oontrol and. 8"“ ling with the '0?“ thee are of vast un- btain for the wearer me. Then' be sure to g the receptacle as may [6 soft rolls of {launch fit into crevices. never be put in 10080 ’ISO or cover so arranged rubbing. A wise Lady's the biggest thing rd. it 3” e wearing of clothing that as the manner in which Lhing all moist and dusty dark closet, trunk or ever be nice again, and 2 proclaims the charactu more than the purse. aired, dusted and put sly will outlast many shion, and if the owner I individuality, it takes auggests a sentiment im- octane with new apparel .nd personality of the [enderson threw tent and sat on Lrt_ that it was a f0 tiny irons; in your [me may be had to set the gas. Then tha nes handy to lay over ‘ ribbon. or a crease in let the iron touch the over the tissua paper. [CE 013‘ D8125. to me," says a thought- .t people do not better Lake more advantage 0! dress. It has an inflfi‘ t of proportion to its tronger in prowflion one thing I knowo I ', wit and intellect ap- Lted by a woman '30 and possessed the 000' : attributed it all to he wears. She W Ire,. Then when 8‘ r natural timidity 39" I if possible a glimpflb 13‘ mirror. There 31” g woman Who (1005”. winking creature $1n :0. up, so that. when the [they may “fluff" down. and smooth as possible rod gown will give. I My timid woman who be called a distins‘.” HIS STUD. Be Continued.) T0 PACK A TRUNK :r -- Physician vwâ€"' ways that nothint are t hey In want the EM? and Cross-Cut Saws '11meng to fill orders for ”We: Mixing and Emhalming l SPECIALTY FURNITURE 'armers, Threshe rs and Millmen .SHEW E LL Furniture M'Rllfll, - "NT mtams Each week an epitome of the vorld’s news, articles on thrâ€" household and farm, and izerials by the most popular vorld’s news, artrctes on r household and farm, a rel-ids by the most popu anthers. Local News is Complete and market reports accurate m CLASS HEARSE IN coxxxcrmx N DERTAKIN G AT THE BRICK POUNDS CREAM FOUNDRYMAE JACOB KRESS. Wfififinfll‘“ IMR. [WIS HEW. EDIT” mp PROPmmR. Euler In all kinds of B‘anning Mill CastingS, Castings and Buildefs’ Sup- t'erent ploughs in use. Casting .for Flour and Saw Mills. Prices Out; Embalming a specialty. xorh‘lour and Saw Mills. '- WE REPAIR -- "WE MAKE-m f“: the rum . y! I; ‘ =5: excscding one inch adv: rthments 8 ccntspc. ‘ insertion ; _3 cents pt? :9: inscruonâ€"mmxox ’. IRWIN, :2 completely stocked with tie is the most wide measure: 'n-xrtion :ncunem ;. no: latcr than Tunsnm nts without specifi. 'bid and charged ac “ Lost." “ Found, .: insertion, 25 cem- ,nzers must be 931" 'fYPE, thus af : out First-class s furnished on “ She is the most outrageous gull Surely all Australians are not savages? It’s the greatest pity Mr. Lamont’s exe- cutors fished her out. But, poor gull she was brought up on a sheep farm, I hear; so What can you BXpect.nst “What does she do so outrageous?" said the man ts whom this éiatribe was addressed by the great lady of Bard- ley. “ Sheep farms don't grow savages, Lady Maryâ€"" “ You've been in Australia, so you’d know, and I daresay you are laughing at me. There is one thingâ€"she won‘t prove a rival to your daughters,” said Lady Mary, laughing, “ for no man in his senses would marry her, even for her money. She is such a pretty, deli- cate-looking creature, too. It's absurd to see how she behaves and dresses. In- sists on living by herself. too; most improper! A girl of twenty!" “ Eardley will have something to talk about.” said Mr. Verulam, gravely. He was a London man, but a frequent vis- itor of the Rector of Eardley, who was a college friend, so he was not dis- tur‘ted by village coacerns." Lady Mary went on volubly, “Missj Lamont had worn a morning gown, carelessly put on, to receive callers; she had not ordered tea; she had put impertinent questions; stared at any- thing unaccustomed; sat in her chair to receive elderly ladies, and her man- ner to men was abominable. Besides all this, she had talked as if all Eardley belonged to herâ€"‘ My money, my house, my grounds.’ It was sickening !“ said Lady Mary, who was a frightful gus- sip even a scandalâ€"monger, but a homely person. Such a snob! But I daresay she is elated with her new position. Are you going to call ?" “Perhaps. Have I heard all the hor- rors? “She's adreadful girl I” said Lady Mary. vehemently. "Yet I must ask her to my garden party. You will see her there. I hope she won’t turn ev- erything topsy-turvy I" From his friend the Rector, from thel doctor's people and the retired military folk Ernest Verulam heard the same story. The wild Australian girl was in everyone’s mouth. She strode through the village slashing her i Whip at two or three great dogs; she tore about on a barebacked horse, and wore neither habit nor regulation hat; she laughed loudly and talked so as to be heard in the next town. She had returned the civilities paid her ap- parently as she pleased, overlooking this one entitled to courtesy, and pat- ronizing the other. The young men called her a hoydenâ€"an odious girl. There was no putting up with her; she criticized to your face your per- son, your dress, your manners; laugh- ed at you, called you Ch‘arlie or Dick, whether you were 9. Charlie, or aDick, or a Tom, or a Harry. “ I should like to see her,” said the London man to the Rector. “Some of these stories must he yarns." “ I don't think so; she was only just civil to me when I called.” “But I've met Australian girls rear- ed hundreds of miles from towns, and though unconventional they were charming. This girl is preposterous." _ “AALA‘. “ as I have." Ernest Verulam had nothing to fear from this young lady's criticism, He was a handsome man and dressed as only an English gentleman can; be- sides, he was well past thirty, and a man of the worldâ€"sure of himself and his position; therefore more likely to nonplus a raw girl than to be non- plussed by her. He went to the garden party, which, in any case, he knew would be a pleasant affair. He found himself, favorite as he was, in a second- ary place. Everyone was on the tiptoe of expectation for the new lady of Eardley. â€" ‘L- .I “whammy-a ”a; ulUJ o A rush to the gate, excited whispers, a vast amount of pushing, proclaimed her arrivalâ€"so late that Lady Mary had given her up. The London man sauntered carelessly after the stream. A loud, girlish voice, with a twang was exclaiming, “How do you, do? Late. am I? Well, the card said four, and you people over here never mean what you say. How-d’ye do, Jack? There, I forgot your other nameâ€"Jack will Verulam was tall, and over the heads of some people. Before him he saw the prize young man of Eardleyâ€"who was- n't a Jack at all, but a Frank-â€" shaking hands with someone; “ saw- ing hands.” Verulam called it. He in- sinuated himself forward. A tall, herself queen of the membly. Her large brown eyes went boldly over the faces before her; she kept laughing unrestrainedly. But she was exces- sively pretty for all that. . “ I should. like some tea,” she said, sweeping aside the crowd. She had a ‘ and that loo];- tea.“ .Verulam came up. Had and of 1113 London sangfroid to stand the stare '99 ‘fivvâ€" v v .g. This girl is preposterous." for yourself, " said the Rector, “ You don't look like a Jack or Tom,” said tho young lady, with her hand held straight out from the arm. “ Mr. Verulam," said Lady Mary, Peffgrming the introduction. not know “'3'th tb make Bf ratâ€"lit; smile, she outstared the eyes. Vern- 1.am w_ondered how she would drink her tea. Fortunately she had to keep the cup and saucer in her hand, but he felt sure she looked about for some place whereupon to deposit the detach- ed cup whileâ€"she used_ the saucer. She repgrkedpoolly to her cavalierâ€"- “ You don'tfi'befilbnév Here; E16 you? No? Thought notâ€"you drags ever so much" better.’ Verulam bowed gravely. “I am staying with my friend. the Rector,” he said. “ I think he has had the plea,- surc of seeing you.” “ 1 don't know about the ‘pleasure’ either side,” said she, dryly. “ Over here you seem to do things by rule, instead of suiting one's self. He did- n't seem a bad sort, your Rector. Why didn’t you come with him i“_ “ I arh sorry I wasn't here .then, .but I can make up for the dxsappomt- mentâ€"" " “I wasn’t disappointed. I’ll betâ€"â€" "I mean my disappointment. Of course." ” Fudge! that’s the proper thing to 8a): I suppose; but it's_ all_mgk_e_ up." Now these rlide speeches had discon- certed the Eardley young men and an- noyed the older men. Verulam laughed good-humoredly, and said, " That's a pretty straight way of accusing me of a lie; but perhaps we over-civilized people h‘ave too many set phrases. W'e might speak a little more plainly with1 adva_ntafge."_ She laughed, too. “I should think 80,” she said, but she glanced at him dubiously; then set down her cup with a clatter, indicating danger to Lady Mary's best china. She began rattling crude opinions in an audacious manner. Verulam sometimes agreeing with a subtle mockery, th‘at evidently 13.112- zled her, or else flatly contradicting her with frank rudeness. Sometimes he set her down patronizingly. She kept looking at him with her big brown eyes: Finally she yawned. II _’.-- “ I'm tired of you," she said; “ Y?“ are so very superior to poor Colonlal me. I was bred on a sheep farm. but I do not know any more than the sheep." . Even this Contemptuous dismxssal dld not disturb Verulam's impenetrable self-possession. -- "I -AA-A v ‘â€" 'â€"â€"â€"vâ€" â€" â€"â€" ‘ ‘A little more,” he said, with an en- couraging smile.“ You' 11 learn now you are out of the wilds. Good- bye " He walked off, leaving h‘er staring after him as if he were an enigma When he called she snubbed him. She met him riding and gave a nod. It was reported to him she had labelled him an “ insufferable prig," not in the least like most Englishmen they saw in the Colony. She met him one day In a shop, where also a native young lady of Eardley was buying, and be- fore he had got to the door the heiress of the Lamonts burst into quizzical laughter, and remarked aloudâ€" â€"wâ€"°â€"'w'v, â€"_ _, ” There’s the prince of wiseacresl You're all in love with him. aren’t YOU‘ Miss What’s-yourname '3” Miss What’s-your-name “Sh’dl” in a horrified aside; the shop-girl giggled. Mr. Verulam walked calmly into the street; yet he must have heard. Out- side he laughed silently; inside the heiress said-â€" “â€" “ He's game anyhow,” and the two other women exchanged glances of wonder. In her own drawing-room the young Australian delivered herself of her opinions on the ques hunting. She was sauntermg about the room, wearing the hat she had put on for the garden, and an apron smart nnnnn "a fnr a morning over cakes and on for the garden, and an apron smart enough for a morning over cakes and pastry but not for the afternoon. Ver- ulam, who had dropped in, stood near the mantlepiece and watched the girl with a smile difficult to understand on his handsome mouth. “ That's all men care aboutâ€"money,” sill-e said, “ they won’t get mine, that‘s a I", “You are pretty fond of money in Australia, put in Verulam, suavely. “You've been there, haven’t you t” "Yesâ€"non; for long, though." “ Then you can’t judge. Anyhow, we don't beat your moneyâ€"grubbers over here in what you call ‘society.’ If I were fool enough to be taken in, and found out afterwards, I'd lead the man a life," and she set her white teeth and shot a glance from her brown eyes at Verulam. “Not a bit of shame about it, either,“ she went on pointedly. “I hate and despise fortune-huntersâ€"l won’t have them round. Look at the lot here nowâ€"I'm rich, so they flock tting frightened now . ’ d heartily. 40 But suppose,” Verulam. Said, With- nodding her head emphatgcally, “ Anyâ€" ‘ w how, you cl)I 1?: Now I'll have to go; I've wasted enough. tima. Good-bye. ‘ Ian lung at 3” ! “31ft $33035 you8 will allow me the ' y you enjoy.” sald Vern- ' ' crreat rawty. ,. -..; uasulig m6; agiayg.’ ”Yes'ferday you - . 1 u I. «an nhngp. t0 . "If you cnpse w ’ I: help it. .I can’t muncefimy tones to suit thin-skim pegple. r “ I’m not 89 sum? of tha , lam. and 33811} 8h.°_ u“, , h“, me {am .gptâ€"up and do_wn, gelipgrate, ex- lninm tr__- ‘ gay 9--wv' 9:.way ”Yesferday you aid."1f you chose to £19 31; I can’t mince my thin-skinned ”9913'” {but his face gave her no explanation. She walked away) omitting to ring the bell. Thus set-down tell ineffectively on Verulnm; he continued to cultivate this “promising acquaintance, while other men gave it. up. Nobody knew ‘-'L-L L - tpnished. Vex-Mam had always seemed smgularly careless about money, and besides. he had a large fortune of his own. To imagine he was taken by such a girlâ€"a vulgar hoyden of the most primitive mannersâ€"was absurd. She wasn't an interesting study.0ith" er. But Verulam Look no heed; per- haps he looked upon the Australian as a rare specimen of her kind. The Young heiress became as isolat- ed as a girl wifh'out a penny; but to ill appearance this pleased her. To Verulam, onaof theâ€"few who did not confine his civilicies to bare duty, she was more blatant and flighty than ever. One evening Verulam was coming hbme from a long tramp. It had been a heavy, sultry day. threatening storm, and as the evening drew on. the sky got copper-colored and the edges of the clouds flecked. Some big drops began to fall, and before one could count five, down came'the rain. Such rain! it almost blinded Verulam Who made a rush for the only shelter Vi§i§le"‘? group of trees. “ Nearly'cauéh‘t it that time, didn't you 7" said a girlish voice with a txgng. Verulam got his breath and start- ed round. There stood, as dry as a Chip and as mocking as a pert child, Doris Lamont. One of her big dogs crouched at her feet. “Nearlyâ€"not quite." said Vernlam at once. “ You don’t mean to sai- you have only one dog with you?" ‘ ‘You can look about and see," said sh’e. indifferently, but she looked a trifle annoyed, and moved a step away, adding quickly, ‘ This is a stormâ€"I’m blast if it isn’t!” " I hope you got here bemre it be- gap. 2" said Verulam, politely, as 1t he hadn't noticed the first thing that there wasn't a drop on her. “ You bet! I was a bit too smart to get caught." She did not look at him, however, as she made this an- swerâ€"a trick he had observed in her quite of late “I understand the inference," he said laughingly, as he shook the mm from his felt hat. But I'm a great deal too smart to stop here with light- ning coming along." “ There isn't any lightning." “ There will be." “Oh, fiddlesticks! The rain is pour- ing like the tropics, and there’s no oth- er shelter anywhere." “All right. If you mind this ram, which I don'tâ€"it’s nothing like the tropicsâ€" on can stay here, and I'll get a barn urth‘er on." She muttered something that soundâ€"'1 ed uncomplimentary, but as Verulam moved, followed him. Perhaps she was more nervous under the trees than she chose to confess. A few. minutes'runâ€" ning brought them to an old thatched barr. on a patch of open ground. “It's safer than trees.” said Veru- lam, as this first flash came along. The threeâ€"man, woman and dog-â€" grouped themselves oddly. The first stood near the doorway, the second a little distance from him, the third re- tired discreetly into the back. 23nd made himself as comfortable as cir- cumstances permitted. Doris's straw hat was on one side of her head, her curly hlair wilder than ever with the rain, her ungloved hands stuck unostenta- tiously in her pockets. She had an ag- gressive air. Verulam stepped back to her after sundry covert glances she may h‘ave seen or she may not. _ m" ‘i’ éfiafi't'stbp cooped up here long," she said, as if he had desired she must. “ I'm not a coddle, thank Heaven!" “ You're an awful hypocrite i" said Verulam, 000111. She stared, flushed, then shrugged her shoulders. “ What do you mean 2” she said. “â€" Vhat 'do you mean ‘1", in an angry tone, and the blood swept up to her forehead. “ Why, you've got rid of the for- tune-hunteryâ€"all but me !" ”I’ve played no game,” she inter- rupted, indignantly. “ I never said you were a fortune-hunter. It's no business of yours what I chose to do; but I haven't done anything. I’m a wild Australian; I don't know how to be- h’aveâ€"" “Don't you think you had better drop the game ?". “You're a very original Austral- ian." said Verulam, laughing so in:- fectiously that her mouth gave. “But you h‘aven’t frightened me, Doris. I found you out-weeks ago and you have been afraid of me these last few days," Afraid of you! Nothing of the sort.” “ You overdid it, you know," said he, still laughing: -- . on A. I ,__ v--- “Overdid what? As if you'd know, either!" . Ear Egg? 55s ixxtrifidfieâ€"fiétliâ€"‘ ‘I didn't find anybody quite savage, except the abor- igines: C_on_le c9n£ess !" ‘- - ___-_ ~Anâ€"‘A‘D vâ€"vâ€"vâ€" “I'VE been a lot in Australia; 1n towns, up the copptryi in the b91512?â€" al' ‘0‘ -1 ' “Viv. ‘DHe toglgâ€"h‘erfihand. She was scarlet, and white, half laughing, half ready to cry, an}; pulling _helr.hand away. u L-..J ”V V‘ J, ID...- ‘ W e11, if I mustn’t take your hand, this then " said Verulam, and Doris felt his arm about her. She state! and held her breath, then got out in confusionâ€" ‘ ‘Oh'! I didn’t mindâ€"I didn’t mea 11â€"â€" ‘ ‘I'm sure I don’t mind,” said Vern- lam. smiling. “Though you said so many hard things *0 me, I am ready to forgive themâ€"for one kiss.” Doris drew herself away quickly. “But I'm afraid _I wa_s horrigli’f she ”HI! ‘ 8‘ u- w- ‘- .â€" murmured, “only how should I know you were dgfe eat)? .till you were so peisistené T 1: money {$133335 5119 so. They told me at home to ho carefulâ€"that my money would be run after, and aoâ€"and th‘en would be run after, and Mn Lneu " Then when all the money-imam haci been dismissed, and Doris/s lover re- mained.” said Verulam, “ the wild mained,” said Verulal Australian didn’t know irrh‘at to do. She couldn't change her mien lest she should draw back the omen: besideeâ€"" “ Oh. don't 1’ said Doris, covering her face. Verulam pulled her hands down in- to his. “ Tell me now," he said, “what You were afraid I should find out it 5'09 showed me your real, sweet self, 01‘ if you are too proud to capitulate in words, for I have won the game be- tween you and the fortune-hunters. Are you quite sure I am not one of Chap} I might be after all; “ No, no, yJu couldn't be! I trrust- ed you longâ€"well, I trusted you. any- how," corrected Doris, hastily, “I‘m_ not £00 ’Pl'oufl to yield!“ And then there was a mmutes’ interruption, and when the pretty Australian was trge _to speak. she hurried on breathlessly. lest the victorious lover demand the end otthe phrase she had broken off at “ long. " “It masfun thoughâ€"great funâ€"shocking everyone, and drawing off those money-grubbers. But was very_ outrageous?" ‘ “How long ago did you trust me. darling 2" Verulam said, totally ignor- ing her anxious question. “ Never mind; answer me. I dareâ€" say I did overdo it; but then I knew it was only something perfectly awful that would have any effect. Of course. youâ€"youâ€"noc caring for my money. but only for me, you dear fellow! you didn't think me very dreadful didyou, I do know how to behave; but, Oh dear! I’ve got such a name here now. they'll never believe I can. Do You remember how rude I was to you in that shop? I went hot and cold over it afterwards. But nothing ruffled you; You always paid me backâ€"not like the rest, you were meek, or dense. 01‘ h'uffy. I am a bit wild and cheeky," said Doris rather mournfully. “ else I couldn't have had the face to do things. ‘ The idea of their imagining we Austra- llians were such savages 1" she rippled out laughing, then laid her head oaressingly against the arm aboui her. ” I Wonrt "be Vhafd, or wild or cheek: to you," she whispered. “ Don’t remem- berjhose things I ggid to 309." “ My darling! Ii didfi't mind one o! th-;em besides, if I exact a recompense for each harsh wordâ€"" He lifted her face, laughing. "0h. dréér :10!" said Doris staring aSIdB; “ that's too much." But Verulam caught her back to him, and took as many kisses as he chose, Doris declaring that it wasn't fair. She couldn't escape, but happy enough for all her protests. And then they found out that the storm was over and the moon rising. They stroll- ed back to Eardley, Doris meek as a child, with her hand in her lover's. They parted at Doris' gate and Vern- lam walked on to the Rectory; but before he reached it the Rector over- took him. 'vv-D _qâ€"â€"- “ Weren't you talking to someone at Miss Lamont’s gate ?” he said, rather hissitatingly. “I saw you, but Idid- n't quite likeâ€"” Véulam's laugh' was a little con- scious. “I like savages,”_hle said. “ But, my dear fellow, do you mean â€"â€"pray take careâ€"Miss Laxpoqtâ€"J’ 'â€"â€"-a â€"-â€"vâ€"â€" “ All right, old chap,” said the oth- er affectionately. “ Come and see her toâ€"morrow, and she shall tell you hbw sorry she is that the self-seeking of other men forced her to insult even the cloth.” ' *5 Wéifl hope it will turn out “'63?” sigh‘ed the Rector, “ So that's what you were after !' wâ€" â€"' V ” It won’t turn out a bit well," said Eardley. - _- . CI. 1. one? wwcw -aw- “"J W'hht did it all mean? That Ernest: Verulam was a fortune-hunter, too, or that the girl had been fooling every- v‘-v - Nevertheless, the world flccked (o the wedding, and to the Australian bride's ”At Home " a month later. \Vas she a Changeling, with her pretty man- ners, just touched with 3 pi uant free- dom? Had h’er London-bre husband tamed her by some mysterious system of his own? She wasn’t the same per- son st ali. ' y _ - 2 .1 .‘w- <â€"- " Aligiralians are savages.” said Doris. innocently, “ That is quite right; but they can be made. civilized. "‘0‘. “v w--- Nobody 8V6! solved the puzzle at Eardley. ., A THIEVING FAMILY. I A detective on duty at the Louvre had his attention called by one of the assistants to the extraordinary attiâ€" tude of several ladies who wandered- about from one counter to another. without buying anything. After. watching these ladies for some time, tho detective called up a colleague. and the two together took all seven into custody. On being searched they were found to have secreted stuffs and small obâ€" jects of value under their dresses, and were immediately marched off to the Police Commissary. That functionary found to his amazement that the troop consisted of a grandmother, three of her daughters and three grandâ€"daugh- ters in comfortable circumstances. The old lady's husband and the bus- bandsof her three daughters were im- mediately sent for, the youngest lad- i% of this interesting family are still unmarried, and declared themselves to- tally ignorant of the acts of their wives, who they said made frequent trips to Paris from their home in the suburbs, and often brought home many pretty things; but they assured the Commissary that they, the husbands. had no notion that these had been come by otherwise than by the usual method of pnrchase. _ . l C Q . vvâ€"vwâ€" The Cohilissaire, taking the social positifin of the “kleptomaniacs” into consideration, has allowed them their fifaerty (129:1 heavy bail. . Wayfargr, £9 £9; robberâ€"I haven't a'fi? ffiOne'y inth me, I'm sorry to say, but. I will be glad to advise all my after. AHXIOUS TO OBLIGE.