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to hurn low had been opened for a litâ€" tle while. As before, it was visible for a space of from two to threse minutes, and then it disappeared as instantaneâ€" ously as it had come. Then and there I made up my wind to solve the my»s I said no word to any one of what I had seen; but next morning I made a careful examination of that portion of the churchyard which was visible from the window of my room. Not the slightest sign or token did I find of any unhallowed midnight intruder. The grass grew rank and green on the quiet graves; tombstones of various shapes and sizes were scattered about as if they had been dropped at ranâ€" dom, but nowhere was there anything which told of any recent living presâ€" ence. There was an old right of way through the churchyard; but as it led to nowhere in particular but the river, it was but little used. At sunâ€" down the gates were locked, and reâ€" mained so til morning. My father‘s house, which was the end one of a row of cottage tenements all alike in size and appearance, might be said to abut on the churchyard, seeâ€" Ing that it was only divided from the wall which enclosed the latter b{ a gravelled footway. From the back of our house, and {ollowing the line of the churchyard, ran the high wall which on that side shut in the old grammarâ€"school and its playground. Along the base of the churchyard flowed the little river Ken. On the farther side, shrouded by its elms and beeches, stood the vicarage; while on the fourth side was the main entrance with its beautiful wroughtâ€"iron gates, of which the townspeople were justly proud. In the gable end of my father‘s cotâ€" tage was a window which looked full on the churchyard ; it was the window of my bedroom. (Ome night when my father had been more restless than usuâ€" al and unable to sleep, I sat up with him for company‘s sake, till between twelve and one in the morning. When at length I went to my room, I went without a light. It was too late to think of reading, and I could undress as well in the dark as not. I drew up the blind and stood looking out for a little while, not thinking much of what I was doing, but rather wondsring how long a time it would be before I should be able to get back to Mr. Ayscough and my beloved flowers. Then, all :at once my eye was caught by something which broke un my waking dream in an instant, and brought me back to the place and the hour with a sort of shock. What I saw was a faint yellow dise of light, evidently emanating from somewhere in the churchyard. and nearly in a line with my window. Al the stories I had heard about the manâ€"ape flashed at once across my mind. Motionless and atmost breathâ€" less. I stood and watched the light, which shone with a faint steady glow, and never varied its position by as much as a hair‘s breadth For a space of about two minutes I stood thus without taking my eves off it : and thn all at once it was gone, and |hough I stayed watching for upwards of an bour longer, I saw it no more. Then Lady Dacre,. in her turn, ofâ€" tered a reward, this time of fifty pounds, for "such information as would," etc., but most people were of opinion that nothing would come of It, even as nothing had come of Squire ture was at its pranks again as aud ture was at its pranks again as andâ€" acious as ever. And yet, as people askâ€" ed themselves in dismay, what was it possible to do under cireumstances so unprecedented that not even the oldâ€" est inhabitant could remember the like of them! It seemed as if the whole town lay helpless and at the mercy of one daaring and unscrupulous ruffian. It was a veritable reign of terror on a small scale. Nobody guessed, I least of all, how soon and by what singuâ€" lar chain of events it was destined to be put an end to A detective came down from Scotâ€" land Yard, and after lingering about Dacre House and its neighbourhood for aearly a fortnight, was seen no more. After this, nothing was seen or heard »f the manâ€"ape for upwards of a week; but then came a piece of startling news indeed. Lady Dacre‘s mansion, which was situ«=ted about a mile and a half beyond tne town boundary, had been broken into, and jeweiry of the sstimated value of three hundred pounds stolen therefrom. From the evidence there seemed little or no doubt that the manâ€"ape was the thief. It appeared that while the family were at dinner, Lady Dacre‘s dressingâ€" room, which was on the second floor, had been entersed from the window, und the jewelâ€"case rifled. The window in question overlooked a lawn at the back of the house. The wall outside was thickly covered with ivy, said to be nearly as oid as the house itself, by the aid of which the thief had doubtless been enabled to reach the window. A shaded lamp was burning In the room at the time. The robber, in order, no doubt, to secure himself from interruption, had locked the door which opened into the corridor, but had omitted to notice that the dressingâ€" room was only divided from the bedâ€" room by a portiere. Through this porâ€" tiere Lady Dacre‘s maid presently apâ€" peared on the scene, just as the rasâ€" sal was in the act of rifling the jewelâ€" sase. For a moment the two stood conâ€" fronting each other, then, with someâ€" thing between a snarl and a cry, the manâ€"ape took one stride towards the woman, who thereupon gave utterance to a loud seream and fainted. The only description she could afterwards give of him was that he was exactly like a huge monkey, except that he stood perâ€" fectly upright like a human being. se n i ie 095 In the course of the day I went inâ€" to the town, and from the tradesman who had care of the abbey clock I borâ€" rowed a powerful operaâ€"glass, and from an undertaker a mourner‘s cloak long enough to shroud me from head to foot. I was uow ready for my enâ€" terprise. . The evening, however, brought wind and rain, which before midnight increased to a storm, and the mnext night proved nearly as bad, it would have been madness to take up my watch under such circumâ€" o?u:eu. The third night was fair and clear, and at balfâ€"past ten 1 let myâ€" self out of the house, carriing with me not only my ‘"inky cloak," but a couple of old overcoats to spread on the ground. I made my way stealthâ€" I found it gone. Not the faintest glimmer of it was to be seen. I waitâ€" ed where I was for half an hour longâ€" er, but nothing more came to pass. I could mot sleep till long after I got to bed, but by nexi morning I bad worked out a certain theory in my mind which I determined to put to the test at the earliest possible moment, Accordingly, in the course of the foreâ€" noon, taking my tape with me, I made my way to that part of the churchâ€" yard where I had kept watch the night before. Not knowing what unâ€" seen eyes might be taking note of my movemmants, I proceeded to measure a space here and there with my tape, as though I were selecting a site for a grave ; in reality I was deciding on a spot for my next hidingâ€"place. Just thereabouts, as it happened, there were no large family tombs behind which might be found a convenient shelter, nothing, in fact, but a few scattered headstones and row after row of nameless graves. Such as the situaâ€" tion was, I must make the best of it. I had seen nothing of the mysterious being who had come and gone so strangely two nights before, but might he not appear at any moment? It was needful to proceed with the utmost cauâ€" tion. Slowly and carefully I begar to creep forward on my hands and knees through the wet grass in the direction of the light. About halfâ€"way towards the point for which I was making was a tall headstone ; behind this I paused for a moment while I took a careâ€" ful look round. I was on the the churchyard and moaned drearily among the tombs. I was chilled through and through. At tength I said to myself: " I will wait another quarâ€" ter of an hour, but not a moment longâ€" er." Scarcely had the words passed my lips whem aill at once I saw again the same faint disc of yellow light which I had seen twice already from my bedâ€" room window. Now that I was closer to it, it shomne out more clearly than before ; still, I was utterly puzzled to know whence it emanated. It was not much raised above the level of the ground, and seemed as if it might proâ€" ceed from the interior of some tomb, and yet Iremembered no tomb just there which could have been made to serve such a purpose. I found that I had somewhat miscalculated its posiâ€" tion, that is, assuming it to be in the same position as when I saw it first, which was a point I could not be quite sure about, and that from the place where I now was I could only obtain a sideâ€"view of it. If I wanted to find out more about it, [ must get nearer to it, be the risk whatever it might, I raised myself cautiously and peered the way it had gone:; but already it had vanishedâ€"the darkness had swalâ€" lowed it up as completely as if it had never been. I waited a f{m halfâ€"hour longer, but saw nothing more. My watch the next night proved of no avail ; but the night following that I was more fortunate. I had taken up the same position as before; midnight had struck; a cold wind swept over point of setting out z;gair;â€"whe})â€", castâ€" ing my eyes in the direction where the light had been but an instant before, of me. Halfâ€"aâ€"dozen seconds later a huâ€" man form passed swiftly across my line of vision, which, in my crouching posiâ€" tion, was bounded by the tomb on each side of me. The figure had come and gone almost while I had time to draw a breathâ€"come and gone, too, without a sound, for not the faintest noise of footsteps had reached my earsâ€"but that might perhaps be accounted for by the fact that it was walking on the grass. Hardly had it passed before a dark movable object faintly outlinâ€" ed by the starlight. Whatever it might be, it was advancing swiftly. and apâ€" parently in a direct line towards me, My head went down again in an inâ€" stant ; I drew closer to the tomb, and grasping my cudgel more tightly, kept my eyes fixed on the opening in front The first step towards doing so was evidently to take up my watch in the churchyard itself. This, however, I was unable to do for some nights to come, in consequence of my father‘s illness having taken a turn for the worse which made it undesirable that I should be out of call. The first night it seemed safe for me to leave him, I let myself quietly out of the house about halfâ€"past ten o‘clock. I had my father‘s key with me, which admitted me into the churchyard through one of the sideâ€"doors. I was warmly wrapâ€" ped up in a dark overcoat, and wore on my head a closeâ€"fitting cap. Ihad provided myself with a stout cudgel, in view of any possible encounter at close quarters. Threading my way cautiously among the graves, I presâ€" ently took up a position between two large family tombs which I had preâ€" viously fixed upon. The point to be borne in mind was that I should be able to see while myself remaining unâ€" seen. A little way behind me was a tall headstone, but in front there was nothing but a few lowly mounds beâ€" tween myself and the abbey. Crouching in the long grass, with my back supâ€" ported by one of the tombs, I began my watch with such patience as I could summon to my aid. Now and then I raised myself cautiously and peered around. The night was starlit and windless, and around me reigned silâ€" ence the most absolute. Eleven o‘clock boomed forth in deep musical throbs from the abbey tower, and then, afâ€" ter what seemed to me a space as long as three or four ordinary hours, midâ€" night struck. I had raised my head and shoulders above the leve! of the tombs for about the hundredth time, when suddenly my eyes were taken by tery, if it were possible for bhuman inâ€" genuity to do so. eB With groping outstretched arms I went forward slowly, step by step, till presently my fingers, encountered a cold smooth substance, which I at once guessed to be one of the slabs already mentioned. All 1 had to do now in orâ€" der to find the door was to keep on feeling my way forward, slab by slab, till I should reach it. My only fear was that 1 should find it locked, in which case I should be a prisoner, at the very least, for several hours to come. Happily, I found it merely shut to, and was able to open it without difficulty. Never in my life had I felt more thankful thar when I stumbled out of the last home of the defunct Fen control over my limbs. Once beâ€" ore; whem a schoolboy, I had been in the Derome vault with my father, and I had a clear recollection of what it was like; for it was part of my fathâ€" er‘s duties to visit each of the vaults, as a matter of form, two or three times a year. I knew that, ranged around me on their black marble slabs lay some score or more of dead and gone Deromes in their leaden coffins cased with oak. But it was a thought that had no terrors for me. All my life I had been too familiar with death and the grave to feel myself thrilled by any touch of the supernatural or any ghostiy fears, even now when I knew in what place I was at that hour and alone. When 1 came to myself 1 was in darkness. My bead ached as it had never ached before, and my dazed senses refused for some time to tell me more than that I was alive and in great pain. Little by little, however, the evening‘s incidents began to recall themselves brokenly to my memory, so that, after a time, I was able to piece them into a consecutive whole up to the point of my having been struck on the head and rendered unconscious. But what had befallen me after that ? Where was I now ? Byâ€"andâ€"by I contrived to sit up and stare around. Everywhere darkness the most proâ€" found. I was chilled to the marrow and ached in every limb. The atmosâ€" phere I breathed was cold, but not with the fresh frosty coldness of the open air ; it was the coldness of a place long shut up, which no sunlight ever penetrated ; there was a@out it, too, a damp earthy flavor which could alâ€" most be tasted. ‘Then all at once it flashed across me that the place in which I was could be none other than the vault of the Deromes. Scarcely had this conclusion forced itself on me when the abbey clock struck three, the sound reaching me with a sort of mufâ€" fled clang from somewhere overhead. I had lain there unconscious since a little after midnight. Presently 1 contrived to get upon my feet, although my head felt strangeâ€" ly ‘dizzy :u_1d I seemed_;o _have”no proâ€" In my excitement I had risen to my knees, aad was still gazing with the glass to my eyes, when a shrill cry rent the air close beside me. 1 was on my feet in an instant. I had beard no one approach, but not more than a yard or two away stood a woman; evidently the long grass bad deadenâ€" ed the sound of her footsteps. 1 was nearly as much startled as she was, but there was rno time for thinking or wondering. Scarcely had . her cry shattered the silence, before the light in the vault disappeared, and scarcely was I oa my feet before the woman had screamed out: "Bill, we are beâ€" trayed |" Then was I aware of a secâ€" ond figure springing towards me over the grass, wgich I knew could be none othen than)} the man I had seen in the vault, and 1 felt that I was on the point of being attacked ; but my cudâ€" geb was on the ground, and 1 was enâ€" tangled in the long cloak, and before I had time to do more than fling up one arm iastinctively, there came a crashing blow on my head, which fellâ€" ed me; like a senseless log. I now found the value of my operaâ€" glass. By its aid, a certain section of the interior of the vault was clearly visible to me. On a ledge behind the grating a lamp was burning. Close by stood a man with one of the most unprepossessing and evilâ€"looking faces it has ever been my lot to behold. _ He was closeâ€"shaven, and bis short black hair came down to a point in the midâ€" dla of his forehead. _ When he lifted his head for a moment as if to observe the flame of the lamp, I was able to see that he had a cast in his righteye, and the healed scar of some old wound or gash in his upper lip. _ He wore a sort of loose peaâ€"jacket, which just now was unbuttoned, exposing a porâ€" tiom of his chest, which was thickly matted with long brown, coarse hbair, as it might be the chest of some wild animal. A thrill ran through me from bead to foot. I could no longer doubt that I was on the track of the mysâ€" tery which had baffled all Westerfield for three months past. What ought I to do? Wnat step ought 1 to take next ? If I coul" gut be the means of bringing this se indrel to justice! If I could but succeed in securing the reâ€" ward I liy to the particular headstone 1 had marked out beforehand. It was a very old stone which had settled down a little on one side, so that it now stood somewhat aslant, while the mound whose iamate it was intended to commemorate had by this time sunk nearly to the original level ot the churchyard. Here I spread my overcoats, and wrapping my cloak about me, I lay down upon them. Any passerby who might have observed me by that dim light would merely have takemn me for one mound more among the scores that surrounded me. ily to the : Eleven o‘clock â€" midnight. Ten minutes latee the mysterious light shone suddenly out, clear and steady ; but this time 1 was not more than twenty yards away, and in a direct line with it. My theory was verified. The light proceeded from a small cirâ€" cular grated opening in the outer wall of the abbey about a couple of feet above the level of the ground outside. The aperture in question was an airâ€" hole, or it might even be called an unâ€" glazed window, to the family vault of the Deromes of Standish, one of our great county families. This vauit, like three or four others pertaining to families of distinction, bhad originally been formed by enclosing a portion of the crypt, which at one time had exâ€" tended under nearly the whole of the abbey. Access could be had from the churchyard to any of these vaults by means of a lowâ€"browed, ironâ€"studded door, below the level, and reached by a descent of three or four steps. _ But whenever a funeral took place, a porâ€" tion of the flooring of the abbey imâ€" mediately over the required vault was removed, and the body lowered to its last restingâ€"place below. TORONTO ‘"Recovering consciousness, the first words I uttered were: "Where is the powder?‘ thus showing that I rememâ€" bered my errand upward first, notâ€" withstanding the many other things that I have described as passing through my mind in my fall, I had been terribly bruised and beaten about in my descent, but, strange to say, not a bone in my body was broken." ‘"Either the swift descent, or being beaten against the sides of the shaft, or the terrible fright, or all these comâ€" bined, had deprived me of consciousness before I struck the earth, for I had no recollection of the collision. ‘"The next thing that my senses told me was that my partner was exâ€" amining my bruised limbs by the light of the candles in the stope where we had been working. O‘Neil said that he had heard the awfu! shout I gave when the car left the track, though I do not remember attering a sound, and that he rushed to the edge of the pit just in time to see my body shoot past and plunge into the dark below. Mammaâ€"Dear me, Nelly! How have you torn that great hole in your pinaâ€" fore? It wasn‘t there this morning. Nellyâ€"Where do you suppose it was then, mamma dear ? ‘"‘Finally, when it seemed to me that I must strike the ground the next inâ€" stant, I drew myself together and braced my body for the shock. I reâ€" member doing this, but I remember nothing more for some time. UNCONSCIOUSNESS SAVED uM "Of course, I was plunging downâ€" ward all the time that I was doing this. Down, down, I fell, with such frightful rapidity that the very breath seemed being sucked from my body, and yet I remember thinking that I seemed a long time in reaching the bottom of the shaft. "Of course, I fully understood what that meant, Death, sure, swift and terâ€" rible, was upon me. In a few secâ€" onds its cold fingers would be clutchâ€" ing at my heart, and then would come for me the end of all things. A LIFEâ€"TIME IN VIEW. "I have read that persons in such situations bhave declared that the most important events of their lives, and especially matters where conscience had condemned had passed swiftly in review before them but I had never beâ€" lieved the statements. Now I know that such things do bhappen. In that awfu: moment 1 saw numerous phates of my past life, Many that I thought. long forgotten loomed up before my mind‘s eyes. They were far too numâ€" erous to mention here, but I will say that among them I saw my wife as I had left bher in my Oakland home, and even my mother in the old cottage among the hiils of Germany, The latâ€" ter has long since been dead, but I reâ€" member that I wondered then if I should see her in a few moments. "I gave the signal, two bells, to the engineer for descending, but ne has alâ€" ways declared that he never got but one, though, as he left the place very suddenly after I was hart I canâ€" not help thinking that be knows he made a mistake, One bell would raise instead of lowering me, and at once I felt myself ascending through the black darkness toward the surface. TURNED UPSIDE DOWN. "This did not alarm me seriously, for I thought I would simply go up to the next level and there stop, and see if I could find out what was wrong with the signal bells. 1 had proceeded upward perhaps thirty feet when 1 felt the skip, a sort of truck in which 1 was riding, leave the track upon which it rode. It trembled for a moâ€" ment in a staggering way upon the edge of the track, and then, quick as a llash, it turned squarely bottom upâ€" ward. "Instantly the light of my single candle was snuffed out and I found myself in total darkness in mid air and standing upon nothing, at least 150 {eet from the bottom of the shaft,. "My partner was Mr. Dick O‘Neil. We were drilling a set of holes in the face of the vein matter of the ledge, and had made some haste to get the blasts in these bholes ready for firing or shooting by noontime, so that the smoke and powder fumes might have lime to clear away while we were at dinmer. . We had finished, the work, and, it being my turn, I started to go up to the 300â€"foot level to get the powder used in blasting. Imade the trip up safely enough, and, having seâ€" cured what 1 wanted, got into the skip with my load, intending to go down again. » _ 5 WE f "I was working in the Mount Jefâ€" ferson mine in Tuolumne county. 1 had been there about a month and was considered quite an old hand for that place for the fact was that few men would stay in the mine after they beâ€" came aware of the dangers that surâ€" rounded the work. They would genâ€" erally work a few days or two and then demand their time and leave, usâ€" ually with very few words in the way of explanation. MISIAKE OF THE ENGINEER. AWFOL FALL OF A MINBR. Not a Bone Was Broken in the Body of the Man Who Came Through This Terrible Experience. A miner named Hartz, living in Oakâ€" land, Cal., has bad what is probably the most remarkable fall that a man ever experienced and lived to tell about. That he could be precipitated a distance of 150 feet and not be iatalâ€" ly injured sounds fishy, but it is true, and the shaft down which he fell and himself prove the assertion, It was last April that Frederick Hartz had this experience. He is badly bruised, but not a bone in his body was broken, and he will recover. â€" Hartz‘s story of his thrilling experience is best told in bhis own language, and is as follows: PLUNGED DOWN A ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY FOOT SHAFT. Deromes and found myself once more under the free sweet air of beaâ€" To be Continued. Peach Frittersâ€"Pare and halve ripe peaches, sprinkle sugar over and let stand for one hour. Do not make the batter until ready to iry. and serve. Sift one teacupful of flour and a pinch of salt three times ; beat the whites of two eggs very light, add half a cupâ€" {ul of very cold water, and by degrees Fried Peaches.â€"Pare and quarter six large ripe peaches, sift half a cupful of sugar over andlet them stand half an hour. _ Put two tablespoonfuils of sweet butter in a frying pan; when hot put in the fruit and syrup, cover closely and fry a rich brown, being careful not to scorch or break the fruit. _ Serve hot. This is an appeâ€" tizing luncheon dish. Peach Tartlets.sâ€"Line deep patty tins with rich pieâ€"crust ; fill them with dry raw rice or wheat bran and bake; empty out the filling; return to the oven to harden the bottom a little and set aside. Pare and balve half as many ripe peaches as there are patty shells; chop the peach kernels fine, cover with cold water and simmer 15 minutes. _ Strain off the liquid, add granulated sugar enough to make a rich syrup, boil ten minutes and dip it over the fruit. When the latter is cold, make a meringue of the white of one egg, or two, one tablespoonful of sugar and a little almond extract ; put one section of fruit, cut side upward, in each shell, heap a teaspoonful of meringue in the hollow of the. fruit and set in the oven until it yellows prettily. . Serve very cold, in fancy paper cases. Peach Foam Pie.â€"Line a deep pie plate with paste; brush it over with white of egg and bake. Pare and rub through a coarse sieve enough ripe, soft peaches to make two cupfuls of pulp; beat the whites of four egegs to a stiff froth; add half a cupful of powdered sugar, and by degrees the peach pulp. Serve very cold with whipped cream heaped over the top. Peach Tartlets.sâ€"Line deep patty LATEST PEACH DELICACIES. Peach Sponge Puddingâ€"Put one cupâ€" ful of milk in a double boiler, and when it is scalding hot add one tableâ€" «poonful of sugar and a pinch of salt; wet two tablespoonfuls of flour with a little cold milk, pour slowly into the prepared milk, stirring constantly unâ€" til it thickens and is smooth ; remove from the fire, add half a tablespoonâ€" ful of butter, stir until it is dissolved and set aside to cool. Pare, halve and pit half as many ripe, soft peaches as you wish cups of pudding; butter pudding cups and place one section of fruit, cut side downward in each, pressing to position. Beat the yolks of three eggs very light, add half a teaspoonful of vanilla extract, and beat them into the pudding until the mass is light and smooth. Then stir in lightly the stiffly beaten whites of the eggs; fill the pudding cups, set in a pan of hot water and bake. Serve cold with whipped cream, or hot with creamy sauce flavored with vanilla, as preferred. *In either case turn the pudding out of the mold, fill the cavity of the fruit with sauce, and pour the same around the bottom. SEneh Sn ORns Sss ers is imposed upon them because their pupils have had bad preliminary trainâ€" ing from ignorant or careless parents, gent discrimination than can be exâ€" hibition of selfishness and greed on the part of infants, The kindergartens find a justification for their existence in that they put children of very tenâ€" der age under the direction of presumâ€" ably competent instructors, who look after their habits with more intelliâ€" gent discrimination that can be exâ€" pected from young or inexperienced parents. Home influence of the right kind in very precious, but the home inâ€" fluence that takes a child at its most impressionable age, during infancy, and develops in it an envious, selfish disposition, does as much harm as could come to it from absolute neglect. The dispositions of children are spoilâ€" ed by ignorant and indulgent parents who set out deliberately to arouse in children a jealous disposition. _ They offer the peevish child something, which, because of his peevishness, he will not take and then they make a preâ€" text of giving it to some one else, that they may induace him to take it out of envy. The effect of such training may be imagined. After a few such lessons the child wants only â€" those things that others possess and durâ€" ing his childhood days he generally manages to get them by crying and sulking. Grown a little older, the child, if a boy, associating at school and in play with children of his own age, deâ€" velops a domineering or cringing disâ€" position according to his physical strength. He is grasping and envious because of his earlier training, but can no longer get things by crying for them because his parents are not there to help him, but if strong enough he takes them by force, and if not he tries to get them by diplomacy. Ruled by selfâ€" ish desires implanted in him by vicâ€" ious early training, he pursues his own ends either as bully or sneak, unless providentially he should fall under the hands of a master capable of undoing and converting the vicious work of his parents during his early days of trainâ€" ing. Much of the work of school teachâ€" F ‘udeeanmime. POT" Crimson clover I discover By the garden gate, And the bees about her hove! But the robins wait. Sing, robins, sing, Sing a roundelayâ€" "Tis the last flower of spring, Coming in the May. Crimson clover I discover In the open field, Mellow sunlight broeding OveT, Al) her warmth revealed. Sing, robins, sing. "Fis mo longer Mayâ€" Fuller bloom doth summer bring. Ripened through delay. 2 The Home A PARENT‘S ERROR, fiâ€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"_‘â€"‘_ the prepared flour, ad@ wame AAD* â€"“.., tablespoonful of soft butter. k vigorously for three minutes, th: e in lightly the stiffly beaten he OM of two eggs; dip each piece 0| in the batter separately, and c a golden brown in deep. balling RED CLOVER. |[or soldiers. Workmen of all kinds cyclists and others ought to take mo"t I sugar, Geriflii{fiffd&&'ihg sugar as a for soldiers. Workmen of all Strength Producing Food That is Â¥*==! Underrated. According to Dr. Gall, every one i® constituted so that he cannot assimila‘o more than a certain quantity of sugar without the sugar remaining in !b® blood. _ Beef gives muscle, but su£"" and other bhydrocarbons _ £€!¥® strength. Sugar is good to take whe® one bas to make an effort for a 109% lime,. . Alcohol is a bydrocarbon, but it depresses after elevating, and it 4°#®â€" troys resistance to diseage. SuK3T does not depress, and is a food. !f workmen took more sugar they ¢0u}d do with less beer. Horses are DOW fed on sugar in Paris. : A ration 0 nearly two and one half r.oundn a day with corn, straw, or hay is found g£004 by a cab company of that city. Horses thus fed drink less. France, followin# *"‘The operation proving so success{ul from the surgeon‘s point of view, it was decided to opearte on the second eye. & That organ was in much worse condition than the first one, and oearâ€" ly the whole eye had to be removed and the rabbit‘s eye substituted. As yet no examination of the second eye has been made, lest the bealing process be interfered with, but I am greatly sanâ€" guine of success." "At the end of a week a careful exâ€" amination was made, when it was seen that to all appearances the grafted portion of the eye had united, and the girl could distinguish light from dark. "11 was decided to operate on (he eye that had been blind 15 years. Both the giri and the animal were put unâ€" der the influence of chloroform. The whole front of the diseased member was then removed, while the correspon» ing part from the rabbit‘s eye was sube stituted for the human portion cut out, The lid was then carefully pulled over and the eye bandaged so that there could be no motion of the lid and no light could penetrate to the wounded organ, "The optic mnerve of the human be‘ng and that of the animal have hitherie refused to make practical connection, When it was decided to make the atâ€" templ in the present inslance a numâ€" ber of physicians and surgeons were asked for their opinion, and almost without exception all pronounced it useless, but admitted that the at* tempt could do no harm. The transference of the eye of an animal to the socket of a human being, with the possibility of restoring _ the sight, has been one of the many dreams of surgery,. Such has been done many times, and the operation, so far as the actual transference goes, has beep each time successful, and, though the transplanted eye has grown into place and the muscles united, yet none of the patients operated upon has been en« abled to see. One thing has always been regarded in relation to this opers tion, namely, that the animal eye wat a better substitute than the glass eye. Said a surgeon: Rabbit‘s Eyes Successfully Transterred to a Blind Girl‘s sockets, An extraordinary operation has just been performed on the eyes of a blind girl in a London hospital. It involved the transfer of parts of a rabbit‘s cyes to the blind sockets of the girl‘s, The operation has been pronounced a suc cess, and it is believed that the sight will be restored, She had been blind in one eye for 15 years, and toually blind for six. For fine pieces of table embroidery of anything soft and thin which needs to be stiffened slightly, this may be obtained by wringing a cloth from borax water and laying it over the piece to be ironed and pressing it with a hot flatiron until it is thoroughly dry. Years oago, before women‘s clubs flourished, patchwork quilts and ~ hit and miss" carpets were made to the babble of feminine tongues ind the clink of tea cups. TOâ€"d:t,, alas! we are all too busy for such a waste of time, yet really artistic portieres can be made by knitting long bits, with two large needles, into one another,. It is not laborious and is quaint enough to be interesting. A beautiful curtâ€"in can be made from thin silks, a hollyâ€" hock or sunflower on a b«ckground of like stuff, cut out, laid on a desigg and joined with narrow black velvei ribbon. Against a north window the effect is excellent. A few yards of clean new rag carpe| is infinitely nicer than a cheap rug of crude colors. It harmonizes with the wicker chairs, the log fire and the bowls of wild flowers in the summe living room. ds nP._jtacs P0 HK 1 I / ETY 2 CIP tablespoonful of soft butter. . Beat vigorously for three minutes, then fol4 in lightly the ltlttl‘ beaten whites of two eggs; dip piece of fruit in the batter separately, and cook to a golden brown in deep. beiling fat, Peach Salad.â€"Pare, bhalve and stone six large, ripe peaches; arrange in a salad bow!l, cut side upward; fill the center cavity with powdered sugar, add two drops of lemon juice and set in a cold piace one bhour. Put half a cup. ful of water over the fire im a double boiler; wet one teaspoonful of corp. starch with one tablespoonful of col4 water; add the yelk of one egg and oneâ€"half a cupful of sugar and beat vigorously five minutes. . Pour the egg mixture slowly into the boiling water, and stir constantly unti) it thickens and is smooth. _ Take from the fire, add a piece of butter the size of a walnut; stir until dissolved ; strain, unless perfectly smooth, and set aside until cold. Just before car. rying the salad to the table, add the juice of half a lemon to the dressing, beat briskly, and pour over the fruit. WONDERFUL OPERATION. oUT OF THE RAG BAG A HINT FOR IRONING EAT MORE SUGAR. ration even | fAgricul 2o edabiadiaWbt‘s c oo aidetaid ds SIMPLZE DEVICES MILK Not long ago I saw : for keeping milk cool « farm, writes Geo. E. N man had a large tub « water standing in the sonmeoted the highw. it was placed there f waterieg milch stock en to and 1: separated + ing house y stood the m Un a tall pos my Yanrkee frie fashioned wel} than the swee ulting the . ¢ tub, and depos [reshâ€"drawn n ated before be sumply q On an perhaps fully â€" Ing t thoug 1 en in & He tion the tan ity ret manne1 it thro teai quality. Knowing as I d dairy farms posses al water privileges fitably utilized, 1 stances as evidem dome by a little i of progress. Runn farm is of no pra place unjess it is of it ored can tain in successful ment flowed in summer thain five 1 them when This is on« of the gra mana? Amer pigas 1 or mi mote buy © Muse W chase : ind th q ua se prej some 1 milk in ather : W1l pa x sleane awill ory w OU i( yBÂ¥ the th BUriac °n man unc! GUT the thei pota and then three (9 the heat thain bes n 1183¢ nest main 30 it turns thus =a from w# he The ancient led direct fr« the heart, an ring being t oe| ve flnjll.l',. of the old ou ding ring uJ the lefs kan h« Â¥W M A m § n eV 8N 3 nb n un n vith nmat tapped reated + h Nil n beginn‘ ng hwrri« 1 meal 9 from h which pur n summ ib h HOGS n saving 1 waste. rd an lish w 1 a ) OXLN T 18 W l n« nd h U n h m eS ak inta :comeé n h e he val LRY n