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_ assistance, and fighting the fire time during the e â€"sSecoT med. and we se was attached tream of water 6e ) Chewne is recover. ed as inâ€" 16 body of the jury viewed the Friday at hought the fire mt it broke out and is still burnâ€" not i Phe f _ says toâ€"nignt of the fire getâ€" nd he expressed mld be controlâ€" N ce k ndemns the condemn the on them for ot wit bet aneâ€" v the throne EXPECTED HREE WIVES VED AEMATION. W Li rest pageant it starts for rn tombs on be 9.000 perâ€" lusive of the the S0 miles Us nd pe blackmaill It is belierâ€" ent bas nevâ€" »t 10 nager Macks® _ become neci _only that p« and said his Chapman at ‘as an Amerâ€" be Men wit YFER GLeo LÂ¥ was born ht up in N CORE. 94 V Tom bsâ€"The t otl he ,;A00 men, een 2,5300 ted that ithin a w vimed ( hre [ Killed by r w e ould have show that He hoped Iway to Lo Has f redueâ€" ages. t he er part ol © work as n any way remen are # toâ€"night e flire is ospital D toerman worked k . 1t England bee n s adl lâ€"Coemé preo«in S Iwa y 11 he bhe D hat po ted wi 1.400 hifts, but aA se 1. AW st O iplied CPreunidâ€" irning. 1 with st and within sNa Oâ€" m in lOn ingt 1OR ome +d V fact 18@ 10 in s will int ed he nd he 1 A A " Do not," she said again. "It would be no use Iâ€"I could never, never marry him, dear." The marguis passod her unsuspectâ€" ingiv, and avoiding the froat of the houseâ€"along which stretched a wide white terrace, broken in the centre by the steps leading to the front hallâ€"mado his way to a small tower at the skle. He stapped at a door wreathed In ivy, and, taking a key from his pocket, unlocked it. If he hasd reached the door a minute or two earlier he would have met Miss Inchley emerging from it, notwithâ€" standing that the entrance was supâ€" pose@l to be reserved exclusively for the maruts, who imagined that he amlone held the key. The base of the tower was not of reat extent, and was unlighted ; but fh(- marquis was too familiar with the place to need a light, and, asâ€" cending a â€" short {flight of steps, passed into a semiâ€"circular hall. It was not guite Gark here, for a glimmer of light issued from an opening at the end of which was the great central hall ; and the marâ€" " Don‘t do what ? It‘s all very well, wy deatr, but Tcan‘t afford to lose a‘friend like Sherwin. Why"â€"his face reddenedâ€""he‘sâ€"he‘s ~been .awfully useful to me." she understood, and her hand dropâ€" ped.. Her lace dropged too, and she hid the shame buraing in it with her ta nds. h The marquis _ remained for. some minutes in the attitude in which Elaine lhad seen him, then, withnout a glance even up the hill, walked slowly toward the house. @V dBut ~the. major chad gone, and she heard his step, unnusually. hurried and heayy, @#t he passed throuch the room to the hall. p ho O ow Cns Snlliihs s 2A 4 5: 115 k Elaine put out h:ur hamt, and laid Lt softly on his arm. The â€"grounds were of _ extreme beauty, and as carefuily kept up as if their lordly owner spent most of. khis time at the Castle, instead of a lew days now and again. The grass ol the lawns was like velâ€" vet; there was not a weed on the asmooth gravel paths. Here and there, as he neared the house, a statue of snowy marble gleamed whitely in the twilight, made dusky by the trees. At the {urther end of the grounds there opened out a wklo expanse of park, dotted hbere and there by noble trees, under which tho deer flitted like shadows. wsome, selfish face. Ayrpationt‘s. ~ Papa, it woukl pe no use. Do not, "No, he will not: ask me again," whe said, and she was forcing herâ€" sell to tell him all that occarred on tho bridge, when the major started to his feet. "You don‘t mean to say that you were harsh to him, Elaine? Good heavens! Such an offer! Such a match! You needn‘t have offended him. I"â€"hbe put his hat straight with _ hbis usual ‘carefuiness â€"~ "I wouldn‘t have had it happen for the world. Look here; I‘m going down to tho club," Presently he passed round one of the ben«ds in the winding path, and came in sight of the house, looming ghostâ€"like against the background ol elms and firs. As he did so, the glight figure of a woman came down the path toward him. He did not see her, for he was walking along slowly and thoughtfully, his eves bent on the ground, but she saw him., and quick as thought slipâ€" pesd asice Into the shadows of the tru shos. Sbe had a dark silk shawl or scart thrown over her head, which, as tho night was warm, must have been more for concealment than warmth, and irom under the dark toldis hor face shone almost white. Hor hair was red, and her eyes, as they Watched the approaching marquis with feline keenness, took to themselves a greenish hue. It was the young lady whom Bridgoat bad declared she could not bear, ‘Miss Inchley, the housekeepâ€" AHe C Pn.pvu n tanbh + He flooked down at her with an asive, troubled:look ‘on his bandâ€" en balKe, bechude i fa caxf LL on car‘t us ue Mellan Poa THE RIGHT PAINT T10 PAINT RKIGMT Sixty one years ago we made the best paint we knew howâ€"knowledge and experience have been adding value to it ever sinceâ€"it‘s the best paint we knew how to make now. And just a little better than the best. Write us, tioning this , f 6 ful homun:te“:.l:!e:d wit:‘lltam,.p;.':“ h:um showing how some beauti. CHAPTER IV. wWoNYS) 21 1 P o_ # ‘ 9 As he did so the music sounded nearer. It proceeded _ from _ an organ under a_ large oriel window. The _ thick . pile of the _ carpet which covered the floor of the gallery deadened the marquis‘ footâ€" steps, and he went up to the organ, and stood leaning against it and looking down at the player. < . _ He stopped and listened with downâ€" cast head for a minute, then turned to a rather narrow stairwayâ€"it was the private approach to the picture gallery, at the gnd of which were placed his own apartmentsâ€"and went up it quietly. 4 He was a younz man, with a thin, emaciated face, which, like his body, seemed worn by pain And suffering ; but, pale and wan as it was, the Iace was beautiful in its expression of peacelul calm, as if patience had set her seal ufon his brow, and smoothed with Jll._v ng hkand the tender, quivâ€" ering ‘ips. The hair, black as night, fell back from the white forehéad in thick long curls thit swept the thin cheeks and increased the pallor of the face. The long,. thin fingers touched the keys softly, caressingly, for a few minutes lonuger, and the music conâ€" tinued to float like a cloud of sound through the magnificent gallery ; but presently the marquis sighed, and in an instant the supple fingers stifâ€" fened into motionlessness, and, withâ€" out turning his head, the player said : "Nairne !" It was only a single word, but the tone in which it was uttered spoke volumes. There was the humility of gratitude, the warmth of love, the tenderness ol sympathy. "Ana yet I did not â€" hear you come in," said the player in a slow, low voice, like that of one more acâ€" custOmed to silenee than _ speoch. quis was proceeding thither, when suddenly a soft breath of music came floating downwards, and filled the silence with a weird yet soothing harmony. s "Yes, it‘s I, Luigi," said the marâ€" quis. "Your ears are quick." He made no sign of,consciousness as the marquis approacited, and the soft grey eyes which had been {ixed upon the window did not turn or waver. He had not heard the marquis, and he had not seen him, for ha was blind. The marquis remained motionlass for a minute or two, then he began to walk to and fro, and this time Luigi heard his steps, and stopp»d playing. I was playing just now before you came in, I was thinking of that day you found mss I was seeing, plainer than I ever seen anything, or shall ever see anything"â€"there was no complaint in his voice, but a quilet, serene patience and resignationâ€""the dark and grimy room, and myseli 1yâ€" ing there, the most wretched thing in ali that wretchedness. They said I "No." said the marquis; "go on, What is it ?" Luigi shrugged his shoulders. "A nothing," he said gently, and began to play again. "What is the matter, Nairne?" he asked. "Nothing more sald "One of my ali." "That is all!" echoed Luigi, with a solt lenthening of the words rathâ€" er than a sigh. "What is it ? _ Can you tel me ? Ah, I am â€" always forgetting _ our bargainâ€"my promâ€" ise." "Yes. You may have forgotteaâ€"lt world be like you, Nalrue!â€"but I have not. I remember, always; and often the remembrance keeps me siâ€" lent when I know by the tone of your roice that you are troubled. Why" â€"he went on slowly, lingeringly, as if he were communing with himsel{ rathar than addressing anotherâ€""as "The marquis pulled up short _ beâ€" slide him, and laughed grimly. "Nothing more than usual," _ he "Bargain ! promise ?" _ repeated the marquis, The other nodded and pressed down a soft chord. TO PAINT RIGHT than black usual," _ he lits; that is | Lilies.‘" "Yos, that is it ; and yet it‘s a bad 'nmm- for it. . There is so much of the rose and the passion flower in ‘hm-. I saw her this evening, Luigi; . here in the park. _ Her eyes looked at mo as they look out of the picture ; shy, yet brave, sweet eyes, with the | innoceont wonder of a girl, the halfâ€" | conscious witchery of _ woman, in | them." o "Tut !" said the marquis. "IL got an organistâ€"a musicianâ€"on _ cheap and easy terms, you mean." Luigi smiled. ‘"Yes. that is the way you put it when the world asks you wonderâ€" ingly why you hamper yoursel{ with the poor blind ltalian, who _ shoulâ€"1 have been satisfied with being saved from starvation, and not repaid his berefactor, so poorly by hanging on to him for the rest of his life! That is the way you put it. is it not ? And it is like you. ‘And the world is cdeceived,. _ Ah,. Nairne, the world is blinder even than Luigi Zanti. Poor worldt ?* 4 ~He touched the keys, and flooded the gallery «with a sound of gentle derision and pity. s , "But the bargainâ€"the promise," he went .on. "You" {Orget. 1t was that I should never trouble you. . Whatever I~~ heard, whatâ€" evrer I sayâ€"with these fingers®of mine, which seem to have eyes someâ€" times !â€"1I was txi ask ‘no questions. And so, though hear you sigh, ‘I nust be silent, Nairne; must be" silâ€" ont, though I‘d giveâ€"â€"". He laugh‘ed softly, with selfâ€"scorn. "Why, what hlaya I to give? _ My life? That is yours already !‘ But I‘d give it over and over again to lift the burden, whatever it may be, from _ those strong shoulders, ‘from that kind heart of yours, Nairne!" some bables appear always ugly tempored. It can‘t be all original sin vither, nrot in your baby anyway. Your baby is not a cross baby for nothing. He is cross because he is uncomfortable. A â€" dilference like magic is effected by Baby‘s Own Tablets. They do immediate and petmunent good; they cannot posâ€" <sibly <o any harm. No trouable; no spliling : no «difficulty getting them into hbaby‘s mouth; for very young infants they can be crumbled to a powder or given in water. They are sweet and children like them. No motler has ever used Baby‘s Own Tableto without finding that they do good for childron of all ages. Mra, M. Watters, Sheenboro, Que., says: but not you, not you, Nairne. Yo« knew that even death would have been kinder than the existence I had been _ leading, and you made (t}ile life that had been a hell a paraâ€" se." Baby‘s Own Tablets cure all the miror ailments of little ones, and you hava a positiveguarantee that they contain no opiate or harm{fuldrug. Sold. by all druggists or mailed post paid at 25 conts a box by writing diâ€" rect I&) the Dr. Williams‘ Medicine Co., ockville, Ont. ; Fo.d me out of his clutches. I thought at the time that it was scarcely worth the trouble. I should still thiuk so, but that I hug the fancy to me that my poor music sometimes pleasesâ€"soothes you; and it is all 1 have, Nairne, with which to express my gratitude and love for the man who saved my life, andâ€"ah, yes, made it worth living. . So you were not satisfied with snatching me _ from death. _ Most men would have been ; The marquis lookedâ€" down at the pale, ‘upturned face with a frown. â€"‘"Luigi," he said, as if by some imâ€" pulse, ."did you ever seeâ€"" . He stopâ€" "He alo‘t got none that I ever teard on. He run a grocery for a while down to the Corners, but if he ever Lad any status there ‘twa‘nt ol which I was dying. And then you came, I heard your step on the stair, and I thought it was that ofâ€" the la ndlordâ€"the landlord who had given me notice that morning to pay my reat orâ€"* Ho‘stopped a moment, in which the marquis said quietly : "That wilil do, Luigi." But the other went on, still as if to himsel{ : "I think Death must have been sorely disappointed. It was such a near thing, was it not? But you are so strong, Nairne. Even Death must own itsel{ vanquished by that iron will of yours, and you snatched Not in His Line. "What is his status in this comâ€" munity, i I way ask?‘ â€"__ _ was ill of the fever, did they not, Nairne? None of us like to use the true word, starvation. It is such an uglyâ€"word, is it not? But it was that "I havo used many imedicines for litâ€" tloc one«s but have never found anyâ€" thirg equal to Baby‘s Own Tablets, 1 simply would not be without them in ‘the house, and I strongly recomâ€" mead them to all other mothers.‘" ped and bit his lip at his slip of the tongue; but the other smiled. "Go on; see what?" "I meant that picture of Murillo‘s in the Vatican; I mean the girl with the lilies * "I know," said the blind man softâ€" Iv. â€" "They call it ‘The Lily and the ‘The marquis frowned, and thrustâ€" ing his hands into his pockets said sternly : "A young English girl?" said the blind man muTingly. "So beautiful ?" The marquis laughed grimly. "Beautiful? I hate the word. _ It means just nothing ; a doll‘s face and a simper. L tell you this girlâ€"" He stopped swith compressed lips, as if he reperted what he had said. "And you saw her for the first time. and here?" said Luigl, with intense yet unobtrusive interest and eagerness. "And it is her beauty, her witchery, that makes you sad, is that so ?" He smiled. "Perhaps it is the sadness that comes before joy ; the sigh that preludes the smile." "Pretty, but vague," said the marâ€" quis grimly. "You meanâ€"what do you mean ?" The blind man touched the keys The blind man touched the keys caressingly, and a love lyric began to throb roumd and about them. "They say. Nairne," he said, "that for every soul born into the world some other is sent to mate with it. Perhapsâ€"don‘t be angry â€"you have met your other soul here, and toâ€" pight ? out in sight where anybody fTo be Continued.) CROSS BABIES health of almost everyoneâ€"of course in different ways. With some it is a feeling of weariness after slight exertion ; others are afflicted with pimples and skin eruptions. _ Fickle appetite, sallow cheeks and lackâ€" lustre eyes are other signs that the blood is clogged with impurities and must have assistance to regain its healthâ€"giving properties. Onion syrup is a dose that can be bought of any druggist, and is claimei by some to be unequaled as a cure for a bad cold in the chest. All this is probably quite true. For to be done up with onions, both inâ€" tide and out, would hbe enough,.cerâ€" tainiy, to chase out any selfâ€"re@pectâ€" ing cold. It is claimedi by those who believe in the onion cure that a bad cold can be broken up if the patient will stay in doors and feed on a liberal diet of orions. It need not be an erclusive «iet but a liberal one. For instance, an onion cure breakâ€" fast includes a poached egg on toast, three tablespoonfuls of fried onlons and a cup of coffeec. Luncheon of sandwiches, made of Boston brown bread, buttered and fllled with finsâ€" lyâ€"chopped _ raw _ onions,. . seasoned with sait and pepper, makes the second meal on the schodule. For supper,. the onions may be fried as for breakfast, and ceaten _ with a chop and a baked potato. * The strange efflicacy of onions is well knows to the singers of itaiy and Spatn, who eat them every day to improve the quality of their voices and keep them smooth. ° Onion plasters are preseribed to break up, hard coughs. They are made o fried onions placed between two picces of old muslin. The plasâ€" ter is kept quite hot until the paâ€" tient is snugly in bed, when it is placai or the chest, to stay over night. k The idea of an onion cure may coLt strike the fancy of the nesthetic ; bowever, the experience of those who have tried it is that it works wonâ€" ders in restoring a coldâ€"racked sysâ€" tem to its normal state again, euyy the Minneapolis Times. "Yes, doctor, I want to see you. It‘s about my wife. She‘s got someâ€" thing in her throat that hurts her just as soon as she gets to talking. she‘s coming over to see you â€" herâ€" self. And you‘ll be very careful, won‘t you ?" "About removing it ?" ‘No. About not removing it." â€" Cleveland Plain Dealer. ‘The difficulties . that beset . new settlers in the Northwest Territorâ€" lesâ€" in the matter of adapting their ways to local agricultural _ condiâ€" tions will shortly be overcome by the establishment, . at Regina, by private intérvention, of _ an agriâ€" culturat college and experiment staâ€" tion. The necessary furds have been provided to ensure the work for a coupfe <~of *years, and an eflicient staff is being engaged to cover a serles of three months‘~ courses in the seven main branches of pracâ€" tical‘ agriculture, under the manâ€" aging directorship of W. H. Coard, LL.D., of the Dominion Department of Agriculture. The fee for the short" course will be $10, and Dr. Coard â€" will leave Ottawa for the west on the 22nd of March to "spy out the land" and arrange for the commencement of active educaâ€" tional pperations. There are three kinds of doses in the onion cure, or three onion cures, as you may choose to put it. One is a diet of onions. The other ts onion â€" plasters. And the third is onion syrup. $ | § The staff will comprise professore of agriculture, chemistry, â€" veterinâ€" ary science, «dairying, borticulture and natural history and anatomy : Dr. Coard will hold the professorâ€" ship of agriculture and the lectureâ€" ship of entomology ; and the name of the other professors and lecturâ€" ers will be announced during _ Dr. Coard‘s visit to the west. The sylâ€" labus will be issued shortly and the short course _ will present â€" excepâ€" tional opportunities â€" to _ farmers sons, as well as new, gettlers, to reâ€" ceive an agricultural training of a practical character. The college is being established under substantial patronage, and, while not beling inâ€" augurated by either Federal or Provincial Legislatures, will _ reâ€" ceive the educational â€" support of yoin d utei esnb antvetet ce Cc AP‘ : calp PR tutairied as: $) a lecturer of Domestic Science and cookery, and a bursar and librarâ€" ian. t ns n oo on "A friend advised me to try Dr. Somehow. Chase‘s Byrup Oof Linseed and Purâ€" A funny girl is never so popular pentine, and I began to improve beâ€" as a fuony man.â€"Detroit Jouroal. fore I had taken hall a bottle, One A Word of Caution. Onion Cures. sp h s ‘They are starving. All day long they have hidden in their holes, sniffâ€" ing with the exquisite agony of hunâ€" gry smell those luscious meats which go to feed the greody human creaâ€" tures, who invite them not to the feast. with palgitating nostrils pressed against the wainscotting, they have _ smelt â€" those fragrant | odors and listened to the chatter of | fcolish, frivolous people, who have dillyâ€"dallied and shillyâ€"shallled with good food which those rats could have taught them how to eat. With gnawing â€" stomach ‘pains they have been compelled to listen to the idle gossip of the day, the latest murdeor case discussed over mutton cutlets ' and potatoes, a flirtation carried on from the clear soup to the coffee, a business â€" bargalr â€" struck between reast beef and jam roll. And all the whileâ€"the irony of it !â€"these rats of the restaurant have had to walt, hungry and unsatisfied, while the inâ€" | terlopers have fed. yM There is no escaping it. He knows all their haunts. He has routed them down by thesriver in the warehouses that hide the wharves He has folâ€" lowel them into ‘the great hotels on the emhankment, where the best chefs of Europe cater for them. He bas tracked them into the drain pipes of the business places of the city princes He has whistled their friends away from the basoments of the shops in the Strand. His whistle has teen heard in every court and alley round Cheapside. And hbe iknows their little wa y s They cannot deceive him. He knows how fast they breed. A litter of five at three months old. A litter of sixâ€" teen when they are full grown,. and fresh families eight times a year. Fatiening on the food refuse of Lonâ€" don, they would breed a population that would eat up the city were it passes along the highways of the city the rats of the restaurants, the rats of the warehouses, the rats of the factories, the rats of the shops hear the death whistle calling them. It has called away their mothers, Their fathers have followed it. Their brothers and sisters were enticed by it. Their wives and their sweetâ€" hearts and their children could not resist it. That weird, &iling’ whisâ€" tle is the breath of death, and the world ol rats who raven on the reâ€" fuse of the city know the piping of the piper. It is the city ratâ€"catcher, and he is calling to his little brown beasts They know his whistle, from Charâ€" ing Cross to Bishopsgate Without. It is the whistle of death. As he not for that tofl"l'blréwpi‘linl; and his whistle. HMe comes toâ€"night. He knocks at the little side door of a great and famous restaurant. It is opened silâ€" ently, and now his whistle stops, and he steps noiselessly into the spa~â€" cious room which still smells of the day‘s dinner. It is pitch dark :; but out of one of those whiteâ€"covered bundies heé ptlls /a bull‘sâ€"eye lantâ€" ern,, which he fastens to his beit, Then he «lips off the white â€"cloths, revéaling two ‘great cages and a roll‘ of netting. Across doors and passages he pins theseâ€"nets, and then, gazing about the room with the glarâ€" ing eyebaill of the lantern, waits silâ€" ently and motionless, with the white hazel â€"ro«d dipped towards the floor. That Tells of Apprcaching Pneumonia or Serious Lung Troubleâ€"Prevent Further Trouble by Using Dr. Chase‘s Syrup of Linseed and Turpentine. HMArk! What is that? The patter of ‘tiny feet at the far end of the room. Then a little shrill squeak, followed by silence. For ten seconds nothing, stirs. Then the patter of feet begins again softly at first, but followed by a scurrying and a hurryâ€" ing. Louder and louder grows _ the noise. ‘There is a scrambling and a tumbling, a bumping and a jumping, with boards creaking and furniture rocking, pots jangling, and pans banging, and there is a whispering and a muttering, a snapping and yapping. and «queaking and shriekâ€" ing." e y When it hurts to cough, when coughing or a long breath causes pain, or a feeling of soreness in the chest, when the linings of the throat and bronchial tubes feel raw and sore, when you feel that the cold which you expected to wear away is getting the better of you, turn 10 Pr. Chage‘s Syrup of Linseed and Purpentine, â€" and _ you will â€" get prompt relie{ and cure. _ Mr. John Clark, conchman, Port Hope, Ont., writes; "Being exposed to all sorts of weather I frequently catch cold. Last winter I was so b&ad with a cold I could not speak mbove a whieper, and had great pains In the chest, At last I feared it would deâ€" velop into consumption if I did not succeed in getting proper treatment. brawny rais, Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskâ€" @rs, _ , D Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Cocking tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens." Ugh! A norrid, creepy, crawly, sight. The ground heaves with them. Their panting breath fills the room with a gasping, gurgling noise. Their obscene, verminâ€"tortured bodies exâ€" hale a â€" sickening, stifling stench. The beady eyes ol this squirming mass of hairy flesh gleam wildly, feverishiy, ferociously. _ Then the bull‘s eye flashes round the room, shedding its rays upon a mass of struggling, wriggling creaâ€" tures. Raits! Out of every corner and cranny they swarm noisily, hungrily, frenziedly. A "Great rats, small rats, lean rats, Pain‘s in Chest The Danger Signal <10 ARCH TORoNTO Euddenly, there is a new, strange noise. A whistle rings through the roomâ€"a wild, wailing whistle, folâ€" lowed by a strange, throbbing, rip= pling ery. sw But now, ahâ€"the time has come The refuse of the restaurant étiH smells good, and though there is not enough for all it is worth the fightâ€" ln‘ '"- t W And now begins such a rushing and pushing, such a biting and scrutchllfi; such a tumbling and worrying, sue a yelping and squoaking, that it might be a body of demons let loose in this Lendon â€"shop. p It is the ratâ€"catcher, and the littla brown beasts are struck with the panic of death. _ Ncreeching an€ scratching, they stampede towarde the doors and passages, but only to hurl themselves against the pipor‘s nets, into which they tumble headâ€" long, unable to get out again. In twos and sixes and dozens and scores the rats scamper into the trap. And the mamn with the hazel wand, suddenig® striring from his stillness, dart# round the room, whipping the ratsé out of corners and from behind pots,, and away from the walls, driving them towards his nets, with that shrill whistle and that _ strange, beastâ€"like ory. ¢ 9 It is a nightmareâ€"this tall, white faced man, alone in the great, dark, room, flashing his lantern hither an4& thither, amid the squealing, eguirmâ€" ing vermin, whipping them with blw white wand, and leaping and doldlf as if in some devilâ€"dance, while ai the time his earâ€"plercing notes ring" out exultantly. > d ues When the dawn comes, and the this, blackâ€"garbed man s#steps out, with blinking eyes, into the grey light of the «treets, he walks no longer Jaunt« lly, but staggors under a heavy bur« den. For the cages beneath the white cloth are Tilled wlr a writhing masge of living ereatur a solid block ofâ€" rats piled upon each other‘s backs, and destined for sale at fourpence apiece to the dogâ€"fancliers of Shore ditch, where the city â€" ratâ€"catcher disposes of the "bag" resulting from his nightly hunting.â€"London Mail. The Pessimistic YViews of an Old4 Tonsorial Artist. The Old Barber was in a gloomy mood, He was talking about bald heads.. "Hair may disappear altoâ€" gether after a while," he said, "and in that event barbers * will have less to do than they have nmow It will force the barbers out of busiâ€" ness. From the way I look at it men are largely responsible for beâ€" ing . baldbeaded. They do not take proper care of their head covering. boitle cured my cold, which, I beâ€" lieve, would have proven very serious UJ had not used this medicine." F Long hair is one_ of the. woret things in the world. \o man car keep his scalp thoroughly clean and wear long hair. If the scalp is not kept clean the hair will beâ€" come unbhealthy. It will finally die. Besides, it â€" requires more nourishâ€" ment for a long hair than it does "There is another thingto be conâ€" sidered in this connection,. ‘The tenâ€" sbon of life is hbigh now, and men are more feverish than they used to be. This condition has a serious effect on a man‘s hair, tendiog to deaden it, and it falls out. _ Beâ€" itween these influences, and other which might be enumerated, baid heads have been accumulating at anm alarming rate, and unless the men begin to think more of these things the comb and brush will not _ be needed in the _ average household, and the barber will simply close ap his ehop, and the time may not be so far off either, It may not come in my time, of course, but I am not mistaken about the tendescy. The number of bald heads already in exâ€" istence will bear me out in all I have â€" said."â€"New â€" Orleans Timesâ€" Democrat. "Men starve their hair to death. Hairs must be fed _ anrd nourished like any other part of the human system. There is a quantity of olt in a little bulb at the root of each hair, aod it is upon this substance that the hair feeds. The oil oozes out into the opening in the bair, I suppose the heat of the body, forces this oily â€" substance up through the hollow of the bair, very much like the heat of the atâ€" mosphere forces the fluid up in a thermometer. At any rate, It is forced up and often oozes out the end of the hair. Barbers have reâ€" sorted to singeing in order to keep this oil in the hair. Singeing closes the boliow, seals it, and the oll is absorbed by the hair. If the hair is allowed to grow to any great length there is not enough oil to properly feed it. It hbecomes dry and finally dies. It cracks open the splits in two separate parts. ‘Dhis process continues until a man beâ€" comes bald, often prematurely, and he never knows just how. it all happens, . _ o d .A BALD HEADS. 47 a4