SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDINO CRAP] HRS-Guy Butleigh lavas England to {ind his long lost cousin In San Francisco. Mania Curing- lord, an sctress in that city. is pes- tered by genteel loafers mongst whom is Caryl Wilton who proposes and is rejected. She learns the story 0! her mother’s betrayal by Sir Richard Hartlcigh. Sir Rich- srd’s child. Constance, whom Guy is ates her and is taken to Hartleigh Hall by Guy. “Are the ponies ready, Guy?" I "Oh, you must have played be- "Yes. sir. Shall I send '0? 00““ fore. Why, to say nothing of your stance?" lplay. which is quite as good as my .oNot on any account She is GIGS", own, one must have lived entirely ling. and l WI†"0'. have her hurr18d. . out of the world not to have learn“ She has as little need of the aid of lawn-tennis.†the toilet as anybody W8“ “WWI Constance turned her dark, search- have, but I like to see her come "1; ing eyes down on the little creature with that composed, queenly air 0'? and studied her face with its inno- hers. looking as it dress were the! cent blue eyes and guileless manner. last thing she had WOUKM 0'- Andi “Have I an enemy here?" she asked it is only because she is always 80! herself. “I am not deceived by the laultlessly dressed that she can lookkchild’s simplicity; but why should 1 _-Il _._-A-I_ L-.. She came down this morning drea- scd, as her Iather had said, fault- lessly; but it was not because. as he thought, she gave any‘xmt care to her totlct, but rather because she had the instinct ol good taste. Whit?! enabled her to subordinate her cluthea and give them a character instead 0! taking one from them as many women do. at the expense 0! seeming overdressed. - A AL--- {é}â€" {Jr'iicï¬'aiwz'zy withvh sigh, while the former advanc-d and took her hand, with the Words: - She c.es'mvilievtil 'bï¬ghtly at. bet hther, and courteously at Guy, and-the lat.- C-‘v-C‘ vv - v- “I! 1 did not. know better, I should thï¬nk you had the Graces for hand- maidens.’ ' They were going to a garden party at Vyner Castle. For two weeks, as Sir Richard had for-seen, the Hall had been besieged by all the aristoc- they 0! the county, who ’nd come to see the suddenly recovered daughter 0! Sir Richard llurtleigh. And now the first of :1 series 0! fes- tivities in her honor had been pre- pared by Lord and Randolph Vyncr, and the whole county. headed by the Duke and Duchess o! Beldaire, was to be there. ‘v Irv VU-v-v- The garden party was the result. of a conversation between the little Lady Gladys Vyner and her mother. They had been to see the fair daugh- ter 0! llartleirgh, and had come sung; with ï¬xed emotions. Neither 890M: until the carriage was Well away from the Hall. Then said Lady Gladys: v‘r‘dII vowâ€"u--- _r _ "No; her manners are absolutely perfect. [Hood alone could not do it. She has had the education ne- cessary to a woman 0! fashion.†"Have you heard it said that. she and Guy are to be married?" -‘ 1‘ .‘AM "Sho is very beautiful, and a true llartleigh." “ Yes; and there seems to be no reason [or the talk that she has not. been brought up as a may." ‘ â€" _ I-‘A A.-- I'Iu ‘- ‘.w. “v v '7. “His Grace 0! Beldaire had it from Sir Richard himself. " - A AC. .‘II I‘l‘4IIulu IIIâ€".wwu-- "Why did you not. tell me betore?" and the ï¬lth: lady with the angel “we and heavenly blue eyes flaShed a giance at her mother that. told a story of some temper hidden away somewhere under all that. sweet premiums-.7“ ‘ ‘ - 4-â€"’L ‘AA I‘m- 'l 'Uvuucvw- "Now. Gladys dear. don't. be reasonable. What was the u: telling your: -. _.-- AL- 1 â€It would have tiflcation o! disa that, Guy had ‘V “Why not give a gardenrarty?†you will like me?" “A very sued ydca, 1 W111.†She turned her eyes on his face, so “Issue the mvntations at once, 80.1Ҡof an eager sincerity, and an- that we will be the ï¬rst to show 0“? swered, with a. faint smile: good-will." “You are quick in demanding a de- "Certainly. dear, 3‘ 3'0“ W381! it." claration o! intentions.†answered Lady Vyner, tOWN)“ "NO‘ â€But I liked you at once. and it thing 00““ 1‘6 in better le‘ing- welseemed to me that you liked me as are the nearest neighbors and it will' quickly. 1 am not dangerous, you {all naturally to us to he the hrst.":know,†he glanced at his crippled And so they were the ï¬rst to draw limb, “and you may like me as much Constance from the Hall. It was a: as you can. 1 am sure that you and glorious summer day on which the. I can understand each other. We Kurdi‘fl party W33 ‘0 be held, and thel are in sympathy. I don't. need pity sight that greeted the eyes of Conâ€"'lor my misfortunes; everybody who stance as she drove her spirited little} is strong and well pities me; but ponies to the Castle was a very pret-; there are not so many who can com- ty one. Lady Gladys, with lawn-‘prehend that the soul has longings tennis racket in her hand, ran to independent 0! the body. Perhaps I greet the guest of the day. tire you. I am not morbid. though "I am so glad to see you, dear. I may seem so. I think I am hap- Yon must take my play at tennis, pier than many who think they have and you must play, too, Hr. Guy. more to be happy for.â€- Oh. i can't take any excuse, for I They were sitting now, and she know you are getting one ready, laid her hand on ' ;.~. and said, ear- lnss Constance. You really must nestly: m~§dr317ft§ef Sir Richard is too important. to be neglected. BesideS, the Duke is so very 10nd of him. They were companions in' their mm†"I am so glad to see you, dear. You must take my play at. tennis. and you must. play, too, Mr. Guy. Oh. I can't take any excuse, for I know you are getting one randy, lies Constance. You really must. plal, 9,: - . A o A v .1- .A 1‘..-â€" rrï¬ut, unfortunate] . I ’ ‘0'.†y don t. knov W‘Iulu llvv D"' w--- _ to Guy, my dear." » l i It. Was not. said with an air of gal- “! did not say I would. Did youzlantry, and Constance did not re- notico that. she evaded any question who it. as such. 'She answered with that. had any reference to her paS‘Eher rare gnï¬le; um?" “I have just received my ï¬rst les- “I cannot say that. I did." son in lawn-tennis, and I shall be “There will be no end’of fCtGS. glad to sit down somewhere and receptions, balls, and parties given'watch the others.†in her honor, no doub‘tf’- ~ ’ “Ilmyou would rather walk about, u I A 'AI. "T‘ï¬on’t know how?†and than Wu . singular inflection in the girl’s They were walking across the lawn now, and Lady Gladys had her arm nectionately around her compan- n '3 Waist. “No; I have never 1 Lao. though I do not doubt 1 than to it who I do learn." â€on cow‘- â€I win.‘ Why don" V‘Twhat are you going to do, mam- had not given it any thought, CHAPTER VIII. have saved me the mor- discovering for myself mad no eyes except for of you get Guy to teach you? He is a. splendid playerâ€"tho bgst. we _ha.ve." “I shali witch you play. and some- time I will get. you to show me how." Constance, with the readiness of one who has made a. :-.tudy of pos- turing, knew how to learn without awkwardness. Indeed it was not long before there was an expression of incredulity that she had never played before. Lady Gladys herself said: “I will do that. now. Come. Gen- tlemen. Miss Hartleigh will take my play, and I will ghowA her the__gume."_ I “I! you would rather walk about, git will not tire me," he said, with â€rank simplicity. “I am not strong, |but. I am not as frail as I look. Be- sides. this is one of my best days. [Shall we walk?" "Have I an enemy here?†she asked herself. “I am not deceived by the chi’d’a simplicity; but why should she dislike me? I will watch her. A man I may deceive, but a. woman, even such as this, is more to be dreaded than ten men. i‘zivhavé lived out. of the world, you know," she said aloud, without betraying a. particle of. agnoyance. “()h "I thought you had spent your time in travelling,†and the blue eyes sought. the brown ones with a. very pretty assumption of in- nocence. “And so I have, and that is. no doubt, the reason why I have not learned, to play tennis." ’l‘he brown eyes were inscrutable. and the blue ones turned away with just the ghost 0! a. flash in them. They had learned nothing. and Lady Gladys did not dare to carry her in- quisition any turther. Constance glanced up and became 'conscious oi one of the most exquisâ€" ite faces she had ever seen. It had in it nothing 0! manly strength, but it was full of a sweetness and refine- ment seldom met eVen in a woman. It had lines in it that told of pain sun‘ered. but there was nothing to indicate anything but submission and resignation. There was an in- ï¬nite pathos in the large violet-blue eyes and in the delicate, sensitive lip, but there was cheerfulness, too, and Constance was won by the face, even before her womanly pity was aroused by the sight oi the trail body and crippled limb which went with the rare face. “Oh, here is his grace!†she ex- claimed. Have you come to admire Miss Hartleigh’s playing, your grace?†“I am prepared to admire any- thing Miss llartleigh does,†answer- ed the duke, gallantly." “In that. case," said Constance, laughingly, “I shall take care not to try anything in the presence of your grace that I am not. sure of do- ing well. And as the game is ï¬nish- ed I will take your grace's arm and listen to you {or I can always listen well when I have eloquence at. my oarf’ “What. flattery! It. deserves a punishment. I shall refuse you my arm and turn you over to a. younger man. Here is my nephew, Lord Algernon Lintel. Algy, come here." â€AIBY. this is Miss Hartleigh. I turn her over to you as a. punish- ment. for using a. man’s weapons. She flattered me, Algy.†“Not now, please. I want. to be- come acquainted with you, and we can talk better i! we sit." “Does that mean that. you think you will like me?" She turned her eyes on his face, so full of an eager sincerity, and an- swered, with a. faint. smile: “You are quick in demanding a de- claration of intentions." "But. I liked you at. once, and it. seemed to me that you liked me as quickly. I am not dangerous. you know," he glanced at. his crippled limb, “and you may like me as much as you can. I am sure that. you and I can understand each other. We are in sympathy. I don't. need pity for my misfortunes: everybody \yho Algy looked into the beautiful face which then was in its sweetest phase. tor it was ï¬lled with soft, pity, and his large eyes lighted up eagerly. “11 Miss 'I-Iartléigh will permit. her- self to be disposed of so summarily, I shall be happy as well as flatter- “I! you hope so. we are friends. Now that we are friends, let us know more about each other. You know me. I fancy. I am Algernon Lintel, Marquis oi Bernin, and heir to the Dukedom of Be‘adaire; a :Vreat deal tor such a. poor wretch as I, in it not?" “I 'know just what you mean. I did like you at once. and I hope we shall be Manda," He laughed pleasantly as he spoke, and she smiled as if she could com- prehend his tooling. He recognized her sympathy, and. in the same mer- ry way asked: “How came you to be Miss Hart- leigh? They say you are Sir Rich‘- srd's daughter. Oh, I ask your par- don. I have said something wrong." "Not so. I have been separated from my {other tor many years, and now I am returned home again." She ieit his honest, searching eyes ï¬xed on her, and she felt. uneasy, though not. in the least hsentful. He listened to her, and, when she ceased to speak, said, cannestiy: “We can help each other, I am sure now. You have suflered; I am afraid you sufler now. Who can tell? I may be as much service to you as you to me. I do not. like self-ap- pointed prophets, but I have a feel- ing that some day I can help you. If ever 1 can, will you let. me. And will you forgive me for having spok- en as I have?" Maida listened to him with a kind of terror. It. was to her as -if he “Forgive me for what I have Maida answered absently, and would have changed the conversation} had she not been relieved of the ne-i cessity by seeing Guy approaching with Lady Gladys on his arm. She instantly assumed command of her- sell, for she had a strange feeling that she was to be out to the test. She had begun to look upon Lady Gladys as an enemy. CHAPTER IX. The face of Lady Gladys was a picture of content: nt and happi- ness as she approa ed Maida lean- ing on the arm of Guy, and talking to him in her pretty child-like way. When they were near enough, Maida could hear her saying:, “We must ask Algy it it is 'true." “What are you goiag to ask me," demanded Algy. ~â€" was reading the story of her misery, past and inturc. She pressed her hands over her eyes, as if she Would shut out the picture he had conjur- ed up. Then she withdrew her hands and with a sad smile, answered ed up. Ti and with softly: “933, I have autl‘ered, and I sup- pose I must still suffer some; but, it. is mostly a. thing thhe past, and I do not. think of it if I cgm‘help it." "Why, Guy, they might accuse either you or me of that at almost any time and not. be far wrong, now might they not?†' 7â€"‘7‘i'17‘hcre is 3' rumor floating about that you are thinking of thee.- tricals," Algy laughed in his pleasant way. and answered: “And so he has. and nobody is better aware of it. than you," inter- posed Lady Gladys. "What we want to know is, if we are really to have the theatricals. Axe we. your grace?†‘71 belieQe they might, Algy," re- turned Guy, placing his strong but shapely hand with a look full of at- fection, on the slumldm' of the other; “but perham there is more in this than a more rumor. You don’t deny the impeachment.†“Soft impeachment is what you should have said," interjected the voice of the duke, who had come up unobserved†â€for if Algy is soft about. one thing, that. is thea- tricals.†“Wily not?†demanded Algy. With a glance full of affection at. the old nobleman, whose greatest pleasure he knew it was to see him enjoy himself; "you have the money}: “And' I {suppose you mean to imply that you have Athe tastcz" “Abuse Guy, too, uncle; he is as bad as I am," laughed Algy. -_ "If you wish it. and Algy has made up his mind, no answer is needed," answered the duke, bowing quizzically. “You might not. believe me," went on the duke, turning to Maida, “but Algy has made himself popular with these theatricula, for which he gets all the credit, and for which I pay, and get no credit at all." “Are w}: to have them. Algy?" per- sisted Lady Gladys. “You know I shall be only too glad, it you will select something I can play." “How would Juliet suit you?" “You know I can't play that. I want a comedy part, and Mr. Guy will play too, won’t you?†“Oh. no. Don’t say that,†cried Algy. “I have been thinking eve.- since we sat down here together, that I would have you for Juliet." “Oh, I couldn’t." she answered hastily, the memory of the last time she played the part flashing through her mind. -"Don't pay any attention to him," said Algy. “I would not pérmit him to stay around at all if it were not that he is occasionally useful. Please play Juliet for me, I have set my heart on it, and when’ I set my heart on anything I am always humored. am I not. uncle?"- “Always. Let me add my entren- ties to his, Miss Hartleigh, for I really would like to see a good Jul- iet on the amateur stage for once, “If you 'will gi§re us the beneï¬t of your talpnt, Lgdy gladys.†“th I. My part is stage carpen- ter, isn’t it. Algy?†â€Always. G33! is a carpenter, and general factotum to my stage man- ager and scene painterï¬ â€œA most. honâ€"orable post," retort- ed Algy. “I will be one of the noble army of appreciative spectators," answer- ed Maida quickly, for she had seen whither the conversation was tend- ing, and was determined to avoid playing if she could. AL -A 9’ -_-:-,I â€There, Miss Hartlejgh," cried the duke, laughingly. “it is quite evi- dent you are new to private thea- tricals, or you would never refuse a part because of its difï¬culties. The usual plan is to seek the most difï¬- cult part, and go at. it with all the conï¬dence of genius or ignorance- both are equally bold.'_'- ' “And I am tréasurcr,†said the duke, with a grimace which only made them laugh. “Ilgï¬omble enough, but not. lucra- tive. But. what part is Miss Hart- lcigh to take in the‘ theatricals?†“Please don't. refuse.†urged Algy, with so much feeling that she was turned from her purpose of refusing peremptorily, am}- 0111).! answered: r"‘â€"'- “But ho'w' 'can I? I'know how dif- ï¬cult a. part it is. and it is little shbrt oi presumption to think or at- tempting itg†’ and I know you would make a. good "There!" cried Algy, triumphant- ly. “That is the ï¬rst nice thing I ever heard uncle say about. private theatricals, past or to come. Now you will surely play the part, won't a “I think it in only another reason for refusing more urgently." an- swered Haida, with the vain hope of evading the ‘isspe py 9. little badin- v v â€"â€"â€"_â€" age. “It I don't play he will always think I could have done so; but if I do I shall disappoint him. and then I shall have lost. all prestige with his “Ah!†exclaimed Algy, here comes Sir Richard. Sir Richard, we are trying .to coax your daughter to take the part of Juliet in the theat- ricals we are getting up. Lend us the aid of your persuasion, won’t you?"- “Perhaps there are reasons," sug- gested Lady Gladys, softly, “why Miss Hartleigh would rather not play: - 9' Peculiar Method They Have in Ja- ' pan of Taking a Bath. ‘ This is not a “Shanghai tele- gram," as you might think, but a fact known well enough to residents in J apan, namely, the (to us) pecu- liar method they have in that coun- try of taking a bath, and which has been in vogue there from the remot- est ages until to-day. 'Let us enter, in imagination, any hotel of the better class. Having settled the usual preliminaries on arrival there, a servant says: “0 yu ga waite imasu." You decline to do anything of the sort, and prepare to floor him, when it is explained that he merely told you in Japanese that “the hot water is boiling," and you are led into a room containing a wooden tub about {our feet long, though very deep for its length; but one is puzzled to know why a stove pipe should arise out of it, running upwards and passing through the root or wall. On examination, however, you will discover that this is not so much a bath as a boiler, for ï¬tted under the bathing part proper there is a sheet- iron stove nailed to the inside of the wooden exterior intended for a charcoal ï¬re, more rarely ï¬rewood. As to Europeans, acute pain is felt on entering one of the above described baths, at about 120 deg. to 125 deg, perhaps becoming grad- ually hotter, but strange to say owing probably to the closing of -the pores, this pain suddenly sub- sides and gives place to a rather pleasant feeling, changing some min- utes later to a sensation of giddi- ness and nausea, whereupon it is highly advisable for the bather _to get out. If through negligence the water is poured away before the ï¬re is put out, the thin metallic sheet quickly wears away, and the weed-work then catches alight, causing a more or less serious conflagrationâ€"an in- stance of which the writer lately saw in Hakodate, when about a. bun- dred wooden houses were destroyed. THE SIGHT OF A HUMAN HEAD appearing above a tub under which The Japanese can and do endure a far higher degree of temperature in their baths than any Europeans, even up to 130 deg. as for example, at the Natural Hot. Springs of Ata- mi, reputed to cure skin diseases, and into which a number of amicted persons, having jumped simultan- eously, sing a song of certain length, then jump out again more or less cured. Of course they have resolved before hand to endure the intense agony of the almost boiling water so long as )he agreed-on song lasts. a red-hot charcoal ï¬re is burning reminds one of some Mediaeval tor- ture, with the difference that the owner of the head may get out whenever he or she desires to. “What’s that. tor?" i1; {Sued in surprise. .“Yogr dinner, sir,†said tho waitr- “Then you should have- gone to the other dining-room,†said the waiter; “this is the European plan weo','. The man paid the bill and walked out, farther away than over from getting even. The clerk tried to explain that the American plan was based entirely upon time, and, if he chose to eat elsewhere, it was his lookâ€"out; but the man would not be paciï¬ed. He ed whether dinner was still on, and asked whether dinnsr was still on. He rushed into . the dining-room, grabbed a. bill of fare. and ordered everything he could think of, his sole idea being to get even. What he couldn’t eat he messed up so that it would be of no use to anybody else. When he got through the waiter handed ‘himua _bi_ll for $3.75. “But I’ve already paid for it in my bill." he protested. “I'm amy- ing_13ere on the_ Amgrican plan."- Any actual washing must be done outside the bath, though one must mention that the Japanese until reâ€" cent years never used any soap at allâ€"their word for it, namely “sa- von" being obviously of French ori- gin. Hence there was (in their old method) so little discoloration of water, and so little loss of heat. that it is said, as many as forty persons could consecutively use the tub without requiring any change of the water inside it. “Then I’ll go and tackle it," he exclaimed. “I've eaten one dinner already. but I’m going to get my money’s worth out of this old house, or bust. !" Some people are philosophers en- ough to accept defeat gracefully; others nurse their wrath and spend much time trying to get even. A man came to a Chicago hotel for one day, and he took dinner out- side with a friend. When he went to pay his bill be found that he had been charged for the meal. He pro- tegtcd strongly. and was informed that it; lé'sâ€"tâ€"éd til 9 p.m. BOIL THEMSELVES ALIVE . .0. HE DIDN’T GET EVEN. TO b0 Continued. Fried: I have read (and tried) so?- eral modes of frying tomatoes. but all our family and also our visitors prefer the following method. which is original, as far as I know. Take seven medium-sized tomatoes, just ripe, not soft, wash, but do not skin them. cut in slices about once third of an inch thick and lay them on something to drain while you take 1 teacup flour, 3 level tea- spoons sugar and teaspoon black pepper. Put all in a bowl and thoroughly mix with a fork. Put :some lard (or butter, if you prefer) into the fryihg pan. let it get hot. take each slice of tomato on a fork, and dip it into the prepared flour.‘ allowing as much of it to adhere to each side as possible, lay the slices in hot fat and let them fry slowly a golden brown. Turn carefully, in order not to break the slices, and brown the other side, adding more fat if necessary. Fritters: One quart tomatoes 4) teaspoon ground clove, a little par- sley or mint, 6 peppercorns, 3 table- spoons sugar, 2 tablespoons minced onion, 1 dessertspoon salt. 1 cup rolled cracker, 1 egg and a little cold water. Put the tomatoes.‘ clove, herbs, peppercorns, minced on- ion and cracker dust all on together to cook. Mix and stir nearly all the while for 10 minutes, while boiling. Then sift and rub all through that is possible. Return to the ï¬re and add sugar, salt and butter, and when mixture reaches the boiling point, add the flour, that has been wet with cold water. Cook two or three minutes and turn into a large turcen to set. When cold turn out into fancy shapes, dip in beaten egg and water and fry in hot fat. ‘uv flannel Chamois uni! they are per- fectly clean and bright. That the best thing to clean herd- ï¬nished Wells is tepid water, in which half a cup of ammonin has been put, changing as soon a the water begins to look dirty. That carpet. not taken up this spring can be wonderfully {managed by sweeping thoroughly and then Stufled: Cut the tops from 6 medi- umâ€"sized ripe tomatoes and remove the seeds. Mix together 1 cup rolled -s.md paddoqo uoodsatqua I “493103.10 ley, i teaspoon celery salt, i tea- spoon minced onion, § teaspoon minced onion, i teaspoon white pep- per and 2 level tablespoons butter. Cook the pulp a little before strain- ing it, to remove the seeds, and add enough boiling water to make a smooth paste. After these seven in- gredients are thoroughly mixed, ï¬ll the tomato shells, put on the tops, place in buttered tins and bake till tender in a moderate oven._ Two serious dangers menace the baby during the heated term, name- ly improper food and excessive heat. The almost inevitable result of giv- ing the child at this time improper foodâ€"either that which is in a state of commencing decomposition, or that which is incapable of digestion by the undeveloped organs of the in- fantâ€"is diarrhoea. 1'-“ u-‘V, vâ€"vrrvâ€" V.‘ knife and then seasoned With butter, than it they are boiled with salt pork or a ham bone. D- v- w â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€" â€". _ .â€" That windows may be quickly cleaned with a preparation made as follows: Procurc fifteen cents’ worth each, of liquid ammonia, Spanish whiting and rotten-stone. dissolve in one gallon of rain water and bottle. When the glass begins to look dingy, wet a. soft cloth with this and rub A baby should never be weaned in late spring or in summer. if it can possibly be avoided. If it must be weaned, or if it has already been bottle-fed, it is most important to remember that, milk is its proper food. If it does Well on diluted goat's or cow’s milk, nothing else should be given. In cities during the hot weather the milk should be sterilized, but in the country, where it can be had perfectly fresh, it is better given in its natural state. But no matter how fresh the milk may be, or how thoroughly sterilized it has been, it will be turned to poison unless the nursing bottle is absolutely clean. That dandelion greens are much more delicate and palatable if boiled in salted water until done, drained quite dry,, chopped with a sharp AA-.. When diarrhoea occurs, no food whatever should be given for a time, water being substituted for the milk at the regular nursing hours. The body should be’ Sponged with cool water. dnd the child taken in the evening upon the roof or elsewhere in the open air. Summer complaint, if treated early, can often be easily checked, but it may become a serious and even fatal illness if allowed to run on untreated. Hence the wisdom of seeking early medical advice. This bottle should be of an egg- shape, so that there can be no cor- ners where particles of curdled milk can collect, and the nipple should fasten on the bottle directly, without any intervening tube. There should be two bottles, so that there may al- ways be a clean one on hand. After nursing, the bottle should be thoroughly washed out with s‘oda. and hot water, and then boiled for several minutes. The nipple should be carefully washed in soda and wa- ter, and then thoroughly rinsed in boiled water. Both'bottles and nip- ples, when not in use, should be kept in water which has been steril- ized by long boiling. Feeding every two or three hours in the day time and twice at‘night is often enough. and if the child'is fretful in the intervals, it can be given a little cool water to drink. There is much more danger, espe- cially in hot weather, in overfceding than in underfecding the baby, and the habit. of nursing it, or giving it the bottle, every time it cries is fraught with peril to its frail life. USEFUL THINGS TO KMOW. RIPE TOMATOE. THE BABY. out, of water to which about lull a cup of mmonln bu been added. Thnt “dandelion canoe†is an ex- collent spring tonlc. The roots should be dug, dried in the oven. ground and mode like codes. only that cold water is put on tho pow- der instend ol balling water. u“ Iqu-o- v. â€"â€"-_ That a ham boiled with 0. cup 0! molasses and a few cloves end pep- percorns in the water will be Beu- oned deliciously. Let cool in the water in which it boiled. To make it extra. good, take of! the skin, ml: with brown sugar. and 6mm: in the oven for one hour, basting every“!- teen ipinutes with the stock in which it was boiled. That if you happen to get out oi starch you can wash and pare (thin- ly) a good-sized potato, grate it in- to a bowl of cold water, strain it and let it settle. Now pour off the water and thin the residue in the oottom of the bowl with cold water. Set on the stove pour on boiling water and cook till door. The bedroom is the most. import- ant. in the houoe to keep cool. it we would have our sleep invigorating. A very simple plan is to place in it a. bowl of water containing thick slices of cucumber. These will keep fresh for some days, and the room will feel cool and refreshing. Also. when cleaning the floors of rooms, mix a hall-1)int of vinegar with tea-leaves, sprinkle about the room, then brush 0a. This not only cools the room. but moths and other insects vanish. s'ix 'montha old at the very least. Bridget (very digniï¬ed): Then it is no (wit 0! mine. You knows very well. mum, thnt I hove been with you only three months. The sun is travelling at. 40 miles a. locond. about 4.000 times an int. flaunts-strain, Hence the railway mail system is a huge Gorgon, incessantly. cruelly. devouring specimens of the best man. hood of the nation. Under present conditions it must continue to de- mand and devour, in order that the currents of trade and the tides of civilization may continue to now. Suspend the man-wrecking process a single week for needed universal rest and social chaos would ensue, Preserved Cherries.-â€"Allow a. pound of sugar to a pound of (ruit, choos- ing large, ripe. sour cherries. Stone them, sprinkle the sugar over them in layers as you put them in the preserving kettle; let them stand an hour or two (add no water). bring very slowly to the simmering point and let them boil gently until the fruit is clear and the syrup thick and rich. Put in cans while boiling and seal like canned fruit. Bridget. I- am tired of your care- lessness. Only look at. all that that lying abgut o_n_ the (gramme; _it in The lurching of cars going at tre- Imendous speed around sharp curves; the continued succession of en‘orts to maintain equilibrium; the monoton- ous vibrations terribly destructive .to nerve tissue, to spinal column and to brain texture, are the daily and hourly concomitants of his ordinary work. Probationers often relent and go bad: to their former duties. One aSpirant for employment in this .ï¬eld was assigned to a notably vig- lorous‘ route. He never finished his ï¬rst trip ; he went half way, bought a ticket for home, and returned as a passenge.. Replying afterward to some questions as to the labor in: volved, he replied : “Lifting andl un,ocking 200-pound pouches, shak- ing out contents, arranging same, removing pouches. locking semen carrying on mail matter, re-arrang- ing sacks, then going over same work continuing same 17 hours, without rest, with trains (lying round curves and slinging you against everything that is not slung against you}: _ I rasI--A:-.. -_- Spiced cherries.â€"Take ï¬ve pounds of large. ripe. stoned cherries and al- low three pounds 0! sugar, a pint of strong cider vinegar, one small cup 01 water and two tablespoonfuls of broken cinnamon and scant table- spoonful of whole cloves. Tie the spices in muslin bags. Put all toge- ther in a preserving kettle and aim- mer gently until the fruit looks clear. Seal while hot. are improved in this respect by add- ing one-fourth currants, also by not using fruit that is over- ipe. Mash the cherries slightly after v are in the preserving kettle, and place the kettle on the back of the stove where its contents will cook slowly. Use no water. When thor- oughly clone, put a few of them into a jelly bag and press out the juice (you get more juice if you stone the cherries; then the process of extrac- tion is the same as for any jelly.) To a pint of juice allow a scant pint of sugar. Boil the juice alone twen- ty minutes; add the sugar, made hot in the oven, stir till dissolved, let boil briskly one minute and ï¬ll into the jelly glasses. Very nice to serve with game or for sandwiches†Mental and Physical Life of Mail Car Clerks Urn-emitting. ’ “D -‘l'--~ v u - Vigor, vitality and resolution are essential in a beginner as well as keonest intelligence and unwearied spirit of application. But the physical qualities are slowly sapped and undermined by such steady ex- actions of duty and the mental qual- ities are proportionately deteriorat- The life of a railway mail clerk or route agent at the best is not easy. He travels under a constant strain and is subject to unremitting mental and physical hardship. He is not always overworked, but he must be ever alert. expert and ac- curate, The business of a continent depends on the correctness of his in- stantaneous mental processes and his rapid manipulationsâ€"a letter “niisthrown†may break a heart. or burst a bank or ruin a. railway cor- poration. Cherry Jellz, .â€"Chcrrics make a. de- licious, but not, very ï¬rm jelly. '1‘h_c_y DOMGS’I‘IC RECIPES! A HARD LIFE. THREE. 88“! All] HIKE. Nobody bu ever utictwctorily no- counted for the populu- partiauty (0! odd numbou. "This to the third time" exclaimed Falstnfl. on the oo- rAvonrm .0112!) CVâ€. httpmttccl I... ma Insult. odd numbers; they Bay there's a di- vinity in odd numbers. either in no- tivity. chance or dath.†And it il scarcely necessary to say that. the belief 'il much older than Sir John Fdstafl. Three. seven and nine cp- cuion of a crisis in his relation. with one 0! the merry wives u Windsor. "I hope good luck lies in cienu had three tutu. three (uric. and three (races; Neptune's trident had three prongs. J upimr'n thunder- bolt thrcc forks. and Cerebul throo poar to have been tho fluorite num- ber. all the world over. J This agn- wt. '7.-- heads. We have three estates of the realm. a man who accepts a bill has three days' grace. and three persons congregated together may make a riot. Shakespeare was well aware that he must have neither more not less than three witches in Macbeth. and that the brindle cat must mew thrice. and our popular folklore in- sists upon three merry men of Gotham. Three meals a day is the usual scale of feeding. THE RELIGIOUS SEVEN. Of a more mystical character than three is the figure seven. or. at any rate. it has a larger number of re- ligious applications. Noah had seven days' warning of the coming flood. and when it came he took fouls by sevens and clean beasts by sevens into the ark; the ark touched on Mount Ararat in the seventh month. and after seven days a dove was sen. out. followed seven days afterward by another. In Pharoah's dmall there were seven fat and seven lean kine, which Joseph interpreted to mean seven years of plenty and sev- en years of famine. At the destruc- tion of Jerico seven priests bore sev- en trumpets seven days. and on the seventh day they walked around the city seven times. after which the walls fell. In the apocalypse almost everything is seven except the num- ber of beasts. There seven churches. seven golden candleâ€"sticks. seven lamps before seven spirits, the book: with seven seals, the lamb with sev- en horns and seven eyes, seven angel. with seven seals seven kings. seven thunders. seven thousand slain, the dragon with seven heads and seven crowns, seven angels bring seven plagues, and there are seven vials of wrath. of a little assistance: 896,573 is not divisible by 9. but if the mystic 7 be added to it. either in front, where it raises the amount by 7,000,000. or in any other position, each one of the eight various amounts which may thus be obtuinod becomes divis- ible by 9. a tan, 0â€"! iobds from Liverpool to “cheater, when a Um could be lent from Liverpool to Bombay for [other (to baby): It's muw'l lit- tle ootsy-tootsy! Huzur loves her little dullng baby! Fully (tho has just been spanked): Don't. you be- lieve her. baby! When youâ€"(upâ€" Krow up IN“ Iva-Ir. you. emu! The diflerence in cost between land and water carriage may be judged from the (act that it cont $3 to send Ur let us take a case in which 9 combines with the mystic 7. The number 65 is not divisible by 9. llut if we added 7 to it. either in front. when it makes 765, or in the middle, when it makes (575. or at the end, when it makes 657, we shall And that every one of these numbers is divisible by 9. It is not every num- ber which can thus be dealt with, and the reader may ï¬nd an evening's entertainment in trying to puzzle out the reason why. An example of a higher number may be given by way But it will be observed thutl8 is a multiple of 9. and. moreover, that ï¬gures composing it add up to 9. Another peculiarity of this ï¬gure is discovered by taking any number of two ï¬gures of which the ï¬rst ï¬gure is of greater value than the second, reversing these ï¬gures and then sub< tracting the number thus obtained from the original number. What- ever ï¬gures we may take, the result will always be nine or some multi- ple of 9. The smallest possible num- ber of two ï¬gures of which the ï¬rst. ï¬gure is larger than the second is 21. Reverse these ï¬gures and we get 12. Subtract 12 .from 21. and the remainder is 9. The largest similar number :s 98. Reverse these and we get 89, and again the re- mainder is found to be 9. In merely secular matters seven occurs frequently enough. We luv. seven wonders of the world, smell champions of Christendom. seven sleepers, seven wile men. seven plan- ets. seven deadly sins. seven ages 0! man. and our ordinary lenses are made for seven or a multiple of sev- But however mystically signiï¬cant three and seven may be, they cannot lay claim to any such peculiarities u are the property of the ï¬gure nine. That the ancients had nine muses. nine rivers in the internal regions. a hydra with nine heads and nine gods for Lars Porsena to swear by, or that in modern times a cat has nine lives, that it takes nine tailors to make a man, or that possession is nine points of the law, are facts that pale into insigniï¬cance after one has once sat down with pencil and paper to investigate some of the special peculiarities of the figure nine. For instance. if you multiply nine by any number you will ï¬nd that the figures composing the product when added together will always amount to nine. Thus: 9 times 2 equal 18 and 1 plus 8 equal 9; 9 times 3 equal 27 and 2 plus 7 equal 9; 9 times 1 equal 36 and 3 plus 6 equal 9 and so on to any exteit. On arriving at 11 times 9 we find what appears to he an exception, for the digits of 99 equal 18. from TUE SECULA R SEVEN. MYSTERIFS OF NINE Unrunl