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Durham Review (1897), 27 Dec 1900, p. 7

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At the clonkâ€"room the m!titude Of | of champagne. _ Then he _ walked men inspired im with new coffiâ€" | mick to the main saloon. S-tundlnf demoo. Tnore were some, a very fair ‘ with bhis back to the wall, and halfâ€" sprinkling, whom he knew, and who| hidden by a tall poim tree, was Denâ€" grecoont nim induferently, without ar | sham. He was alone. His arms were pearing in any way to regard his pre | folded, and he was looking out upon Eoo u« a thim: our of the common: | the dancers with a gloomy frown. Ho walke]l up the staircase, one O[ | farcutt stopped sofily un to him. «. dee~ yroup; but as they passed | «"woll how are you getting on, old throuwch the anteâ€"room to where M | chan?" he whispoered in his ear. the alstance Prince and Princess Loâ€" Densham started and looked at Harâ€" beuski were standinmg to receive their | outt in blank surprise. wcuests, Harcutt adroitly disengeged | "»whvâ€"haw theâ€"excuse me, how on kow. He had stayed as long as he red. At any moment his presence might have been detected. and _ he would have been involved in a situaâ€" which even the nerve and efâ€" tery acquired during the pracâ€" of his profession could not have endurable. . fHe found a seat n adjoining room, and sat quite thinking. _ His brain was in a % He had almost forgotten the a object of his quest. He felt a â€" conspirator. The fasâ€" of the unknown was upon him. ‘Their first instinct concerning ..-qflo_hdhafllatmone. Th:y e e e i C e l P were indeed no ordinary people. He must follow them upâ€"he must know about them. Once more he t over what he had heard. It raysterious, but it was interâ€" . _ It might mean anything. , man with Mr. Sabin he had recâ€" the moment he spoke. It was von mnneln. the Gerâ€" * t _ . C Those were Lramkga _ words of his. He pondered H es As yet there lhas Doen no rUlâ€"â€" no ssm of a rift." "Yon are right." the other man answerei slowly ; "and yet who can tell what lHes beforo us? In less than a dozen years, the face of all Europe may be changed. The policy of a great nation is to all appearance, a steadâ€" fast thimg. On the face of it, it conâ€" tinues the same ago after age. Yet U a clhange is to come, it comes from within. It develops slowly. It grows from within, outwards, very slowly, like a secret thing. Do you follow has been which tery mi of his ; end n adjoin . thinkin y k . e ‘fial objec & 6c nation of pl.' & A% MaBRPCRARTCET CC C VC ga words of his. He pondered over u;ln. H'l;he journalistic was uj ino. was no lon re. _g‘had overheard _2 f:; r of "a discussion of tremendous A. _ If only he could follow this then farewell to soâ€" phing anod playing at IL His reputation would be . He was moustact his way to Harcutt stopped sofily un to him. "Woll, how are you getting on, old chap?" he whispered in his ear. Densham started and looked at Harâ€" cutt in blank surprise. "Whyâ€"how theâ€"excuse me, how on earth did you get in ?" he exclaimed. Harcutt smiled in a mysterious manâ€" ner. "Oh! we jJournalists are trained to overcome small difficulties," he said airily. "It wasn‘t a very hard task, ‘The Morning is a very good passâ€" port. Getting in was easy . en« ough. _ Where isâ€"she ?" Densham moved his head in the drâ€" rection of the broad space at the head of the stairs, where the Ambassador and his wife had received their guests. {cfinsh:\m jumped into his cab and dove away. Harcutt looked after tiem thoughtfully. R "The girl is very lovely," he said to himnself, as he stood on the pavement iting for his carriage; ‘"but I do think that she is for you, Densham, for me! On the whole, I am more interested in the man!" | CHAPTER vV. _ The Dilemma of Wolfenden. olienden was evidently absolutely u pared to see tho girl whom he fo@nd occupying his own particular eaty chair in his study. The light was ony a dim one, and as she did not e or turn round at his entrance, heflid not recognize her until he was standing on the hearthrug by her side. Th#u he started with a little exclamâ€" atibn. He stopped in the middle of his quesâ€" tlog and looked intently at her. Her head was thrown back amongst the cushions of the chair, and she was fast asléeep. Her hat was a little crushed, aud a little curl of fair hair had esâ€" caped and was hanging down over her forthead. _ There were undoubtedly teat stains upon her pretty face. Her plain, blue jJacket was half undone, and thagloves which she had taken o[{ lay in ber lap. Wolfenden‘s anger subsided at ouce. _ No wonder Selby had been pexlexod. But Selby‘s perplexity was nothing to his own. i Sie woke up suddenly and saw him staiding there, craces of his amazeâ€" ment still lingering on his face. She looksd at him, halfâ€"frigntened, hallâ€" wisttully. The color came and went in her theeksâ€"her eyes grew soft with tears He felt himself a brute. Surely it was not possible that she could be actingy! He spoke to her more kindly than he had intended. "Yesâ€"your motherâ€"Lady Deringâ€" ham has been very horridâ€"as though the silly papers were of any use to me or anyone else in the world! I have not copled them. I am not deceitful ! It is all an excuso to get rid of me because ofâ€"ol you." She lobked up at him, and suddenâ€" Ir dropped her eyes. Wolfenden began to see e glimmerings of light. He was however, bewildered. "Look * satd, *indiy, "why you a 1cannot for the life ol’-. me e\ yqli:‘.gsd better **Nâ€"no, nothing particular; only I have left." ‘"Yos have left !" "Yes; I have been turned away," she added, piteously. * He lboked at her blankly. ‘"‘Turned away ! Why, what for ? Do you mean to say that you have left for good ?" _ _ _ y 3544 "Wiat on earth has brought you up to towynâ€"and hereâ€"at this time of :lght’f. Is anything wrong at Deringâ€" am k She rat up in the chair and looked at him with quivering lipe. k chief She nodded, and commenced to dry her eyes with a little laco handkerâ€" Miss TC Merton ! Why moved his head in the dirâ€" the broad space at the head irs, where the Ambassador fe had received their guests. under the special wing of iss. She is up at that end m somewhere with a lot of he most beautiful woman r seen in my life," he said . "Titian never conâ€" thing more exquisite. She i to paint and to worship !" re you going to do now?" sked drily. "You can rave in your studio, if you like." ing to find out where she am not sure which. By | Wolfenden lawched #oftly. they go! They‘re off." | â€" "Poor little gir}t! Go on." hurried to thecloakâ€" | _ She smiled, too, and continued with r soats, and reached the ! les« coustraint in her tone. e to see the people in "I (Min‘t really mind that so much, vore so interested comâ€" | as of course I have been gwetting a > stairs towards them. |10t of money for the work, and one of the electric light, the | Ccan‘t have everything. But just late. praised face shone like | Iy he seems to have got the idea that lelicate statuary. To | I have been making two copie of artist, she was irresist. | this rubb‘sh and keeping one back. He â€" Harcutt right «barg i has kept on coming« into the room unâ€" shalfows. @Xpectedly, and has sat for hours most beautiful woman | watching me#n~ a â€" most umx:mant wen in my life," be said | manmer. I have not biem alloftd ~<o "THtian never conâ€" | leave the hous>, and all my letters ng more exquisite. . She have been looked over; it has been » paint and to worship !» | perfectly horrid." you going to do now?" "I am very sorry." Wolfenden said. d drily. "You can rave | "Of course you knew though that it your studio, if you like." | N48 going to be rather difficult to z to find out where she | Please my father, didn‘t you? The ve to follow her__home | doctors differ a little as to his preâ€" ill be something @.now | cise mental condition, but we are all a wa{’_t- that he is at any rate a trifle K. arcutt otestea. | Peculiar." 8 iU,Lf_‘.-' p° She smiled a little bitterly. Ip that," Densham re "Oh! I am not complaining." she P CA T UX t Chaws. Isaid. "I should have stood it some. ne know to morrow ecided. * There ht. I will call at d a note, toâ€"morâ€" ind to worship !" ng to do now?" "You can raye idio, if you like." d out where she »llow her__ home mething ..;nuw what on earth Densham untll J t« in intro need not w on one in or i ribls There % re have her gloves from the table. "I think I wil away,." she sald. "I was very nu& to come; please forget it andâ€"Goodâ€"bye." hy g:t_mug-ht her by the wrist as she _ "Nonsgense,‘"" he exclaimed, * you mustn‘t go like this.". 5 "You are angry with me for comâ€" ing," mshe said. "I am very, very sorry; I will go away. Please, don‘t stop me.‘* k He held her wrist firmly. She looked stead{fastly away from him and tried to withdraw her arm. ‘"Miss Merton !" *" Miss Merton!" She repeated his words reproach{fully, lifting her eyos suddenly to his, that he might see the tears gathering there. Woilfenden bn;lmn to feel exceedingly uncomfortâ€" a Die. "Well, Blanche, then," he said, slowly. "Iz that better ?" ‘"She answered nothing, but looked at him again. Her hand remained in his. She suffered him to lead her back to the chair. "It‘s all nousense your going away, you know,‘ he said, a little awkwardâ€" ly. "You can‘t wonder that I am surâ€" prised. Perhaps you don‘t know that It is a little lateâ€"after midunight, in fact. Where should you go to if you ran away like that? Do you know anyone in London ?" "Iâ€"don‘t think so.‘" she admitted. "Well, do be reasouable then. First of all tell me all about it." She nodded, and began at once, now and then lifting her eyes to his, mostly gazilrg fixedly at the gloves which she was smoothing carefully out up«»1 her knee. "I think," she said, "that Lord Derâ€" ingham is not well. What he has been writinz has becoms more and more incoherent, and it has been dfficult to copy it at ali. 1 have done my best, but he has never seemâ€" ed satisfied; and he has taken to watch me in an odd sort of way, just as though I was doing something wroug all the time. You know he fanâ€" cles that the work he is putting toâ€" gether is of immense importance. Of course I Con‘t know that it is isn‘t. All I do know is that it sounds and reads like absolute rubbish and it‘s awfulily @fficult to copy. He writes very quickly and uses all manner of abbreviations, and if I make a single mistake in typing it he gets horâ€" go on how for the sake of the money ; but I haven‘t told you everything yet. The worst part, so far as I am conâ€" cerned, is to come." " This morning your father came very early into the study and found a sheet of carbon paper in my . desk am| two coples of one page of the work I was doing. As a matter of fact I had never used it before, but I wanted to try it for practice. There was no harm in g I should have deâ€" stroyed the secofl sheet in a minâ€" ute or two, and in any case it was so badly done that it was absolutely worthless. But directly Lord Derâ€" ingham saw it he w uite white, and I thought he wa ng to have a fit. I can‘t tell you all he said. He was brutal. The end of it was that my boxes were all turned out, and my desk and everything belonging to me searched as though I were a housemaid suspected of theft, and all the time I was kept locked up. When they had finished I was told to put my hat on and go. Iâ€"I had nowhere to go to, for Murielâ€"â€"you remember I told you about my sisterâ€"went to America last weak. I hadn‘t the least ldea what to doâ€"and soâ€"Iâ€"you were the only person who had ever been kind to me," she concluded, suddenly leaning over towards him, a little sob in her throat, and her eyes swimming with tears. A There are certain situations in life when an honest man is at an obvious disadvantage. Wolfenden felt awkâ€" ward and desperately ill at ease. He evaded the embrace which her moveâ€" ment and eyes had palpably invited, and compromised matters by taking her hands and holding them tightly in his. Even then he felt far from comfortable. "But my mother," he exclaimed. "Lady Deringham surely took your part ?" She shook her head vigorously. "Lady Deringham did nothing of _ the sort," she â€" replied. ‘"Do you _ remember last time when you were down, you took me for a walk once or twice and you talked to me in the evenings, andâ€"but perâ€" haps you have forgotten. Have you?" She was looking at him so eagerly that there was only one answer posâ€" glble for him. He hastened to maka it. There was a certain lack of enthusâ€" lasm in his avowal, however, which brought a look of reproach into her face. She sighed and looked away into the fire. He was very well aware ol it. He had never asked her to write, and her note had seemed to him a trifle too ingenuous. He had never meant to anâ€" ewer it. * ‘‘*Well," sho continued, "Lady Derâ€" ingham has never been the same since then to me. It didn‘t matter while you were there, but after you left it was very wretched. I wrote to you, but you never answered my letter." . __ "I so seldom write letters," he said. "I thought, too, that it must have been your fancy. My mother is generâ€" ally considered a very goodâ€"hearted woman." â€" She laughed bitterly. "Oh, one does not fancy those things," she said. ‘"Lady Deringham has been coldly civil. to me ever since, and nothing more. This morning she geemed absolutely pleased to have an excuse for sending me away. She knows quite well, of course, that Lord Deringham isâ€"not: himself ; but she took ewathlu he said for gospel, and tarned out of the house. _ There after 2l it was to come C LM very sorry,‘" he said ; "pleaso ind it has been at ali. I have : has never seemâ€" he has taken to sort of way, just doing something Well, I‘m only a girl, and girls aro idiotts ; I haven‘t a friend in the world, and if I were alone I should die of loneliness in a week. You won‘t send me ?&WM'? You are not angry with me ae She made a movement towards him, but he held her hands tightly. For the first time he began to see his way beâ€" fore him. A certain ingenuousness in her speech and in that little hallâ€"forâ€" gotten noteâ€"an ingenuousness, by the bye, of which he had some doubtsâ€"â€" was his salvation. He would accept it as absolutely genuine. She was a child who had come to him, because he bhad been kind to her. "Of course I am not angry with you," he said, quite emphatically. "I am very glad indeed that you came. It is only right that I should help you when my people seem to have treated you so wretchedly. Let me think for a moment." 9 _ Bhe watched him â€"very anxiously, and moved a little closer to him. *"‘Tell me," she murmured, "what are you thinking about ?" "I have it," he answered, standing suddenly up and touching the bell. "It is an excellent idea." "What is it ?" she asked quickly. He did not appear to hear her qu(sâ€" tion. _ Selby was standing upon the threshold. Wolfenden spoke to him. _ "Selby, are your wife‘s rooms still vacant ?" Selby believed that they were. "That‘s all right then. Put on your hat and coat at once. I want you to take this young lady round there." "Very good, my lord." "Her Inggage has been lost, and may not artive until toâ€" morrow. Be sure you tell Mre. Selby to do all in her power to make things comfort: able." The girl had gone very pale. Wolfâ€" enden, â€" watching her cliosely, was surprised at her expression. "I think." he said, "that you will find Mrs. Selby a very decent sort of a person. If I may,. I will come and see you toâ€"morrow, and _ you shall tell me how I can help you. I am very glad indeed that you came to me." . "You are very, vyery kind," she said, slowly, "and very _ considerâ€" ate," she added, after a moment‘s pause. "I shall not forget it." She looked him then straight in the eyes. He was niore glad than he would have liked to confess even to himself to hear Selby‘s knock at _ She shot a single glance at him partly of anger, partly reproach. . "You have nothing to thank me for yet, at any rate," he said, takâ€" ing her hand. "I shall be only too glad if you will let me be of service to you." _ & 4 He led her out to the carriage and watched it drive away. with Selby %the box seant. Her jlast Flane she jJeaned back amongst the cushions, was a tender one; her lips were quivering, and her litt‘e fingers more than returned his pres sure. But Wolfenden walked back to his study with all the pleasurable feelings of a man who has eXtricat: ed himself with tact from an awkâ€" ward situation. "The frankness," he remarked to himself, as he lit a pipe and stretchâ€" ed himself out for a final smoke, " was a trifle, just a trifle, over: done. She gave the whole show away with that last @glance. I should like very much to know what it all means." This Man Measured in LifeNine Feet in Girth. There was buried at the Uplands Cemetery, Sinuthwich, on Sunday, Robert Dudlield. The circumstances of the fuperai are unique. Dudfield, when he died, was 54 years of age, and he weighed 32 stone. _ Although his height was normal, he measured eight or nine feet round the body, and three feet around the calf of each leg. His home was at Smethwick, and for many years he had been a drayman in the employ of Mitchell‘s and Butâ€" ler‘s, Limited, brewers. He belonged to a notable family, for his two sig ters are said to weigh 60 stona beâ€" tween them, while < Dudfield‘s twin brother, who is still living, is said to be even heavier than deceased was. ‘The brothers were on very affectionâ€" ate terms, and until a year or so ago had lived under the same roof. The funeral arrangements were beâ€" set with difficulties. In the first place it was necessiry that the shell to enclose the remains should be the strongest possible, and the undertaker spent nearly two days in searching for suitable timber. When completed the coffin measured 6 feet 3 inches in length, 3 feet wide and 21 inches deep. It was lined with lead, and enâ€" cireled with strong bands of iron. Not a hearse within a radius of some miles could be found sufficiently broad to admit so huge a coffin, and as a last resort It was decided to utilize a brewer‘s dray for the purpose. It was quite imposaible to take the cofâ€" fin out of the house by the doorway, and the lower portion of the woodâ€" work of a bay window and two large panes of glass were removed. A platâ€" form was then erected from the house to the street. On the dray beâ€" ing brought up in front of tha house, the coffin containing the remains was let down on rollers on to it. The proâ€" ceedings were watched by a large crowd, which at one time (was so great that a length of the wall in front of the row of houses, owing to the pressure, gave way, and a woman in the panic which ensued was carâ€" ried bodily through a pane of glass into the room of the next door house. However, no :n:h was injured. d'nlf? proceedings a e grave passed o without mishap.â€"Weston, Eng., Merâ€" All the English railway companies havehnoz ?nanged to allow an extra we‘ight uggage accompany â€" sengers to be taken free oflflg.lpr::. The free weight of luggage Will in future beâ€"For each firstâ€"class passens ger, 150 pounds ; for each secondâ€"class pa.enfe.r. 120 pounds, and for each thirdâ€"class passenger, 100 pounds, inâ€" stead of 120 pounds, 100 pounds and 60 pounds, regpectively. i cury. Mz, Goodleyâ€"Alas! Our Spouter has gome to that whence no traveller returns. Mr. Rardartâ€"Yes, thank goodness. Re can‘t come hack and . lecture about it.â€"Philadelphia Press, Luggage on English Railways. BURYING A GIANT. (To be continued.) Consoling. friend bourne Someone has said "God might have made a better berry than the strawâ€" berry, but He never did," or words to that effect, ani applying _ this thought to the subjact in hand, we my, God might have made a better human creature than a good woman, but He never did. Find her where you will, in business life, in the proâ€" fessions, in the home, at lowly or at lofty task, and of this you may rest assured, she is making the atâ€" mosphere about her healthier and higher. The world is better because of her pregence in it. 4 % Somebody is always Azmd 19 and sternly inquiring wi t.?w:l-x'*ll beâ€" lieve in woman‘s rights or‘nxt. I do ; of coursp I do. I believe she hias the unquestionable right to be as learned and wise and sweet and gool as she wants to be, arvi I am glad the crusty old professwors who wanted her kept out of colleges and universities had to throw the doors wide open to her. I believe she has the right to look Jjust as beautifual as nature will alâ€" low, and the right to choose her walk in life. These are Godâ€"given rights. Tho fights which men give or with holdâ€"gencrally the latterâ€"may . be welghty, but they are not to be name1 In the same breath with the ones enumerated. td She has the right to love and to expect love in return, and there is no more interesting time in her life than when she comes to a day and a nlace of choosing whether she will follow out the old ambitions plan of making a name and place for herself, or merge her identity with that of nnother ; whether she will go on with the career marked out, the career leading to wonderful visits of success and aggrandizement, or marry . the man ghe loves. She is wise enouch to know that a home and a husband _ are lifeâ€"work enouch for one woman. It is not given to many to de two things at once, anm1 dn thom wa‘l. She cannot attempt both poetry and housekeenâ€" Ing, for, if sh> snand hor energies on the perfectinz o( her rhyme, the epider will spin his web in unexpected places, and the dust gathor on every hand ; and should she essay to paint, there ia th> dishâ€"washing to by doneâ€"elther the pictures or the pots must suffer. It is very woll for th» manâ€"fortunate fellow !â€" to singâ€"â€" " And so Isay, with pride untold, Tl‘:'nd love beytl)nd degree, s with the heart of gold, &emm house for meâ€" For meâ€" She just keeps house for me!" But if there is something the woâ€" man has to give up, something worth while, it costs to make the decision. n nine casos out of ten love winsâ€" a good thing, too, if the love be but real eneugh. The homa«lifo may seem prosale alopeside ths "career," but she {inds it full at ‘p&n opportunities as she goes along. It is the most soulâ€" satisfying life of any. I love could not work miracles this grey old world wouldn‘t hold half the swoetness it does, nor half the \goodness. It is a wonderful thing, wonderful. We have only to look about ns to see its power. It transforms an untrained hoyden into a girl to be prou1 of, it makes of a se}fish person a perfect marvel of generpmity, the Jdn‘! one grows bril. llant. It slips all unawares into the bosom of a staid old bach:lor of forty, ahl no soomer is it thare than back from among th> milestones of the past youth comes skipping to keep it comâ€" pany, and instead of th» grave, middleâ€"aged man, we have & youth a big, handsome bqy. ‘Lvhh ‘eyes wm.:g sdiias ~SAbocimnkony dumam TT : see far more of the beauty O God‘s world than ever before, . and moreâ€"a thousand times moreâ€"in the one woman thain any one else has ever geen, or will ever see. It takes possession of a plain little woman, kindles a glow, sends a thrill, puts w flush on her cheeks, & wonder{ful light in her dark eyes, and develops unknown graces. Plain‘ No woman under the power of a first love is plain. . t Ap a w@weetheart, a girl is at ber bestâ€"I wish I could say her wisest, but the truth is, she is often very foolish. In making choice of a proâ€" fession she generally consults peoâ€" ple of experieuce, but lg‘ tt:ls far 2 uids ". nroak k a" UaMnwers . ajberheng Timon, ind Dh e t more lmportant matter she follows her own seweet will. She may be throwing herself away, but to try to convince her Of the fact is _ a vain tamk, and a thankless one. One of the saddest sights is a good woâ€" man @quandering all her wealth of affection on one quite unworthy of her, a man vicious and evil to the core. t The goodyâ€"goody story book, with DR. CHASE PREVENTS There would be no use for sanitarâ€" iums for consumptives i Dr. Chase‘s advice were more generally accepted. Not that Dr. Chase claimed to be able to cure consumption in its last stages, though his treatment is a great relief to the consumptive‘s cough, but what he did claim was that oonnm‘lzkn can always be prevented by the t use of his Syrup of Linseed and Turâ€" By Thoroughly Curing Coughs and Colds Before They Reach the Lungsâ€"Dr. Chase‘s Syrup of Linseed and Turâ€" e pentine Has an Enormous Sale. pentine. It is not a mere c0o cine, but a farâ€"reaching and cure for th> most severe colds, bronâ€" chitis and asthuia. It is a pity that everybody on this great continent does not know! of the eurprising effectiveness of this great throat and lung treatment. ‘The news Protn of Thsiet t hopati es yrap by far the largest sale of any similar remedy. It should be in every home in the land for promptb use in case of By JEAN BLEWETT, in the Christian Guardfza. THE GIRL IN LOVE. / .;Ie(. but none seemed to be of any avail, what I began to think that my cold was developing into consumiption, as Yery, nption mybsvetomykwwbm. 1 am tlmoly|thmkmmwmmm . Chase‘s 1 Turâ€" | Syrup of Linseed and ‘Turpontine has |medl-lwukdaoo|3btecm.ullnu rough | entirely free of the cold." bronâ€" | Mr. Wmm Davidson, 8%., .Aukw: Que.. statesâ€" " Dr. Chase‘s Bw 4 n this , Linseed and Turpentine has c w@B of the | of bronchitis. I have, without succ088, great | tried many remedies for th»> past six a news | years. Last winter whan I had a severe ‘hase‘s | attack and was unable to work Ipre» ne has | cared a bottle of Dr. Chase‘s Byrup of similar Mm'nwflnuduhg home | to setate thit tho third bottle ase of | me a well man.‘" ¢ x4 ' " % &' ‘w :IQ."*-.? «mnu' its pictures of "Bliss/ul ltneu’lm. ollâ€" joyed by the Coursgecis who marrice the rake to reform him, is answerrble for a lot ol misery. To make a Pod mak out of a brl ons,‘ to make a stay &nd a stail and comfort out of a x\prrrb:tte-â€"the‘!‘ appails to a certain love of power, a subtle kind of vanity, which is in most women. . But no graver misâ€" take can be made. Love can work miracies, but. Jove w‘t t a man who is & W recs y phyâ€" slcallyfl,'mfl of him a Ht husâ€" band 1 pureâ€"minded w Love tw powerful, but it has> its limitaâ€" tions. It cannot efface ~ & ~past, it cannot put aside effect. Even diâ€" vine love cannot. "The heart of the eternal is most wonderfully kind, but it can only forgive, it cannot pit aside the conâ€" sequences of a. sin."‘" _ _ There is an inatinct in the k who is all that she should berm warns her am|i often saves her from heartbreak. A good woman . may love a bad manâ€"for the tender pasâ€" slion is a something part of earth and part of heaven, a power not to be Airected in any channel or controlied by the willâ€"out her sense of what she owes to the sons and daughters who may be born to her, causes hber to draw back shnudderingly. The woâ€" man who understands the full meanâ€" ing of the two â€" words "heredity" and "maternity," cherishes no foolâ€" ish ideas in regard to reforming rakes by marrying them. m m Ee Om It is a good thing for her to know her worthâ€"it is a go~d thing for the man who win@ her to know it. ‘The knowledge will make him earnestly desire to be something nobler and better than he is, will make him at once proud and humble, prond that anything so ewoeet and goodl should be his very own, humble because, "The man who truly loves a maid ‘Knows only two things well, . no Her matchless worth, his own un« worthiness." She that teacheth a man humility doeth well: she that keepeth him humble, blesgsed is she. Mr. Raby is said to be tha oldest man ‘n America, if not in the world. He has been for thirty years an inmate of the New Jersey institution, is conâ€" tented with his lot, amokes and drinks, wh:never he feels so inclined, dwells with interest upon the one affair of the heart to which he oon":p::l. and iwoks forward to several years in the land of the living. i l. He has a remarkably clear intellect, and his mind is retentive on nearly all subjacts. ‘Th> most noticeable thing about the told man is his slight frame. He is quite thin, weighing less than a hundred pounds.. "Uncle Nouh" samckes almost inces# gantly. On pleasant days in the sumâ€"« mer months he gropes his way about the door yard and mingles with the male inmates. His thin gray, almosts snow white, hair, and his bent figure denote h‘s great age, though his musâ€" cles are firm and ho appears quite active. tss 3 Election aapeuses in Great Britain ‘The Northern Whig says that it is estimated that the recent general election in Great Britain will mear an expenditure of over £750,000. Beâ€" fore the passing of the Corrupt Pracâ€" tices Act in 4833 the costs m muck heavier, and, comparing with 1895, the difference is jJust upon £1,000,000, the expenses of candidates, including returning ofâ€" ficers‘ charges, in the former election being £1,736,000, and in the latter £773,883. In 1885 they were still very beavy, the total being £1,0â€"6,â€" 000, but in 1886 the figure had been reduced to £624,000. In 1892 there CONSUMPTION Deer Park, Ont., writesâ€" " I have oufâ€" fered in my hbead and throat and all over my body since last summer {from® a very baary cold, which I coald not get rid of. I hbhive tried several of what are considered good remedies, was a rise to £958,000. A VERY GREAT AGE. I bive tried several ol considered good remedies, semed to be of any avail. think that my cold was uo matiiggs 4o se ‘ m

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