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jports i;raartreqtY here at. bill!" a quiet tone " lines. It- T exactly " a resulting ollccuo-m the neth- and it . sing lull. ' way tor is ”post- ht“. an {I M’s "r. :9 not“! "e DOV istreet% 3 taken :he met etc b I a utiw 1 trade. we con- Hero "0 a which Mon lay satisfac- rf whotq. til trade " shot m'ement tite coo! ' good. he trad. od, R..- , hilly he cont- unabat- is rath- Icclined lines at ages in I loll. and " open- . con- New?! ED] In col unto tt I that. great The fight lines util- 1960 " fro- the ving "nt- t In some (toe 900 Otto .039 so. 9.9. pt had of Igot 03 on " " pa ee. " " " re " " " At MN - the "Good morning, Mb. Barnum!" he aid. "I have surprised you; you thought it was your brother, ”than! I hope-l-l am not unwelcome?" A Tia/ii, 1iiii iiniGiG" hired, a all mwered: "T nm glad to see you. Did you ride over "Yes," he said. "Yer-may I come int" Jeanne stood snide, and sat dorm, looking at him. Yes, certginly he 1m changed. _ ' - muawu- . He sat down for a moment, than get up and stood at the door, wiping is forehead, and looking around the garden with what seemed an effort to regain comp? in! e "What a pretty place!” he said, at bet. "r--1 have never been in this part of the grounds before. In this your arbor --do you often sit here?" “Yes, very often," said Jeanne. "It is pretty, isn't itt Did you I. Aunt Jane, Mr. Fitzjnmes or uncle?" "No," he said. "i--the faet u-a look- ed in the drawing-room and came straight through into the garden, I thought I should find you here." Jeanne laughed softly. “H I had kept quite still you would not 881 him. 1 handsor Tea In freshly ballad water, add sugar and cream to taste and drink slowly. In bad cases take another. That’s all. Only One Best Tea A Sure Cure for the Blues! --mue Ribbon. list legs the tir "To see met" lug her eyes to earnest admi eyes, which screwed up I some and ck He smiled uneasily. "Bliss Bertram,” he said, ""Ptn afraid I've done myself an injustice-WT afraid that I haven't appeared to the best ad. vantage-down here under-under the peculiar eureumstanees, and-and, that you don't think very highli of me." "Indeed." said Jeanne, er forehead wrinkling itself perplexedly; "you have Alwavs been verv kind to me, Mr. Fitz- you don't "Indeed wrinkling always be ies." "No: Tt "No; you have been he said, earnestly. l when I think what a you must often haw doit mind other wor think; but you are dil you to think well of r Jeanne at that mo must be told, thought leave of his senses; and silent. . . "The fact on hurriedly with his M earnestly; _" In“ tun-u. "The fact is, the truth is," he went on hurriedly. and bending toward her, with his handa clawed on his knees, earnestly; "I haven't known my own mind no, I mean that I knew what I wanted to do, and what my people want- ed me to do, and-and-like a fool, I haven't the courage to act like a man. Now it is different. and. Miss Bertram. I We come over only, like this, to tell you ai-Jeanne-rr" He stopped, for Jeanne, amazed and bewildered. had risen slowly. "Doit 'ttr-l beg you won't go until you have heard me.'" he said, earnestly, “A .mM hurriedlv. so that he was be- He stopped, tor bewildered. had rise "Don't 20-4 beg you hnvc heard me! “a rising hurriedly tween her and the t cou Jen! “Let me say ' though I tell it m Miss 'Bertrapr-Jf lt was mm at ran. uuu 'lhFb m. mm.“ after all. But. well or badly. it stag- gered Jeanne. and kept her motionless. "Yes,” he said, eagerly, “I love you --that is why I came this morning: and I could have said it truthfully a month uga. but for circumctam'es over which 1 had no control. I love you most devotedly. and I will do my very best to win your love. I-" "tstop-arts stop l." cried Jeanne, find- Ing her tongue " Inst. "I ean't, I won't hear on; more! Let me pys-let me - t" or he blocxed the downy like on {page of stone. "Wo, don't go, , nylon you!” ho road. " know what you think, but "on that I hove thought ot no one :'irit"tiiiiyjfottl21oqtit, that It be no other than you. Do atop! June. 1 not: I love mud have loved ‘01: all though; and Pu wished that 'd never seen that beauty " l r H d have been very sorry,” he I came to see "yott--that is, I should have missed you." smiled and stole a glance at handsome faee--for it was enough now in his earnestness l flushed, and his white hand, -d at his moustache. trembled. ey hot," he said, suddenly. :le fast," said Jeanne. "I heard " rode me say what I have to say. I tell it so badly. The truth is, 'tAm-Jeanne-l love you!" 5 said at last, and not so badly, I. But, well or badly, it stag- anne, and kept her motionless. he said, eagerly, "I love you is why I come this morning; mild have said it truthfully a mu hut for circumstances over ml co ." he 1nd I " said Jeanne, 1 itself perplexedly en very kind to 1 “mg ' th emu net" exclaimed Jeanne, open- 3 to their widest. said. looking at her with an airation and eagerness in his t mow that they were not by an eyeglass, were hand- doquent enough. "Yes, to see nt to say something to you, l something, Je-Miss Bert- do ly hare been very kind to me," neatly. "I feel that now, k what a consummate idiot often have thought me. I other women, or what they son are different, and I want no I“, - 7‘3"” v ‘I know what you think, but mt I have thought of no one {doth aid that I feel certain I be no other than you. Do tame, I swear I love you, and I on all through; and I’ve ut {’3 never seen that beastly well of me." that moment, if the truth thought that he had taken senses; but she sat. quiet 1f Brew one cup of Fragrant, Dellclous camm said, "I eouldu't waste wanted to see you at. w me. innocently. " well-and better an Hue , opening what I f he said, breaking eh Jeanne had sat other footsteps; "I couldn't walk." me glanced at his bl n. and he came gating with his looking as un- -lf-assurcd Fitz- far.. one man to Park, and the people there 1 “Let me pass '." breathed J trembling; "I wo?'.t. ly"" {my "But you must!” he cried, excitedly. _ “I love you, Jeanne, madly; I ean't lose f you!" a.A.e .. i', It was a foolish speech. * JW” _ Tramsfixed for an instant Jeanne ‘ paused, the fire in her cheek and eyes, , "You have not got me yet," she said frondly; then she wrung her hands; "oh et me go-d won't hear any more I" "Won't e" he said. hoarsely, thorough- ly astounded by her persistent refusal to hear him. "Let me tell you all-ew erything. lf-if you think that I am poor," . “Lot me go '." cried Jeanne, below her breath. and with clenched teeth. t "If you think me poor and not in II position ," he went on, still blocking her way, "you ---- you are mistaken. l was last night, but that is changed; the money I received was---" . Jeanne put her hands over her ears. I "Hear me!" he pleaded; “I am no long- ‘ er a. younger son; I am no longer Clar- i ence Fitzjameg; my brother is dead and u.“ "'"'.t"""""r ,,_. _ I am Viscount Lane y' and as he spoke, he drew a black-edged envelope from his ptylfet ' "I am a Viscount now, and the next in succmion, Jeanne, he said, "and you-- if-it you will only listen, will be Count- ess of Airdale. You will not refuse me t" ".‘Jénnnc’s small pink hands dropped from her ears, and she looked at him with an indignant fire in her beautiful eyes. J"Am1 you con come and---and say this to me with your brother just dead t" ",hutntte I." he pleaded. ".Nanne--Jeanne t." she cried, passion- ".rvanne--Jeaniie t." she cried, passion- ately, her eyes ful of tear's, "how dare you call me '.lcanne l.' What have I dsme ctr said that you should do so? And if you will make me say it, then I say that it would make no difference to me it you were a duke or a king. Now let me pass, Mr. Fitz.ittmes." "But Jeatute--Mim, Bertram," he stammered; but Jeanne, taking advant~ age of his amazemeet and confusion, pushed past him. and, hem” ha can re- eovPr himself, " flying toward the Man, and 9:1 fely lacked in nor own room. Clarruco, the now Viscount Lane, star. ml stupidly after tho retreating form for a full minutv. then he paint) his white hand over his brow, and growled out an Amnzommt. chagrin and mortified vanity strove with bafled passion, as he picked up his hat and tried to smooth it. That he should he refused as the Hon- orable Fitzjamos was hard to believe, but that any one should decline the hon- or of pieking up the handkerchief thrown by the Viwuunt Lane. heir to an earl- dom. was simply ineredible." . But he had to believe it at last, and, after standing for'n few minutes to ra- len mouth the "squis'tel chalant Clarence. "What an ass I have b ed, "and all to no plum my people say when they beautiful she lookcd as l, ing her feet. By jove would strike me! A child. Could she have u "What an ass I have been," he mutter- ed, "aud all to no purpose l What will my penplv say when they hear this , How beautiful she looked as she stood stamp ing her feet. By juve, l thought she would strike me.' A child, too - a child. Could she have understood ? Yes, 1 put it. [vl'llilly enough. And she re- fused a Coronet '. Phew '. 1 must be as ugly as sin, or-or-something. And now there's that confounded pillmaker and his gang l" he exclaims, with u shud- Mr. “That's a lucky escape, anyhow. I can't go back there. and I won't, that’s flat! They'll hear .of this-everybody, my people, too, and the old earl well rave like a madman, and--" He stopped muttering, for he heard the rustle of a muslin dress behind him, and, looking around, saw, to his astonish- ment, Jeanne hurrying down the path. He raised his hat and slipped his feet in the stirrup to beat a hasty retreat, when he heard her call him. Instantly the blood rushed to his face. She Lad thought tsetter of it. But . glam-v at Jcmme's Face as she stood at a little distance, sent him cold again. She stood for a moment to gain her breath, jun: long enough for him to note with longing pangs the exquisite grace of her lithe tigure; then she held out her. hand. "Mr. Fitzjames," she said, with a lit- tle rumorwiul tone, "b-l am very sorry if I have been rude---or---or unkind--. no '." for encouraged with a wild hope, he had dropped, the bridle and taken a step nearer. "No, 1 only came because I felt - because I did not like you to go away without saying good-by, and thinking that I had been ungrateful. Indeed, l mu very mueh-- obliged." "Is that all?" he said, aullenly. "That is all," said Jeanne; "irxei--" and her eyes dropped; "1 am "rr-"" "There will be plenty to remind you,” he said, sullenly. "No," said Jeanne, firmly; "for no on. will know." "You mean--" he said, eagerly. "I mean," said Jeanne, with sweet dig- "Why should you bet" he said, with l sneer. "Young ladies are generally proud enough“. ' -- _ - - -. - - Jeiinne's eyes fl __ ti re dr . "v Clashed, and her grace “it: ew itseit as straight as In it} "I am not proud of anything you have said," she breathed, quickly. "I shall not remember it--1 shall forget it in fi" minutes." _ ill less n rople there l Jeanne--" '." breathed Jeanne, all on't hear 3:3 more." st l" he cri ' excitedly. nne, madly; I ean't lose m before would one have this 313-,mmy brcw and sul- vxquis'tely calm and con- by a path, to the I “You 111 I‘m. ". "You Wi Jeanne ( crimson d ('i'tt, an "No om her hand. , "Good-h aitr,"tutre1luCn.oetp,Pf.', “a! you P" t?.1.d Pf 'e, “PM” " am quite sun,” aid Jeanne, her lips ending with the haughty Icon: of he: who“: nature. "'Tunksr-thtutlo," he excl-ms. "i-a -of course. a fellow doean't like to' be Jeanne. "And r,ge,gi',', "You wil lte no one t" he said. Jenna hesitated a. moment, s sudden crimson dyed her face. Then she said My and quietly: "No one. Good-bye," and she held out he: hand. . "Good-try," he said, taking it confused- 11?; and springing into the saddle, rode o Meanwhile, where wu Venn It was very near morning before he tstartled Mm. Brown from her beauty sleep by creeping on tiptoe up the narrow stein to his room, and long before Jeanne had ownkened from her first love dream, he was striding down to the sea agaxn, his bathing towelg on hi? arm. Cf L L -iriiiriiraiit" Bi happiness which he drunk so heartily the preceding night had, wrought a Irrett.ehhtg,e in him, an}! m "'V-o'" " -____ w . as he half ran, Tm: trotted, along the beach, he found himself humming aloud, a. thing he had not done in the open air tot months. As for Jeanne, so with him; he whole of nature seemed rejoicing in Maioy- C.,,,-, , bb - "4. He jumped into the boat, rowed out to sea, took his swim, and returned, giving I god morning to old Griffin, who was ti ering about the Nancy Bell. "Fine iuornin' for a sail, sir," says the old man, pulling his forelock. "'Speet we'll see Miss Jeanne Boon, 'cording to the wind, God bless her." "Aye-am" echoed Vernon Vane, echoing the benediction in his heart. "God bless my darling'." Then, having made Old Griffin happy with a cigar, and half a crown no buy a. light for it, he started homeward. ..- . . . _u= -- .._ AA AK....... ugnu Jul It, "c Btu-\nu uv...-........ l "In an hour I might go up to them, and I shall see my Jeanne-my little Jeanne,” he thought. Mrs. Brown stared at her eccentric ledger very much as Aunt Jane stared at Jeanne, for he came in whistling "one of them furriu' tunes," as Mrs. Brown call- ed it, and "seemed like a boy," as he pitched the towels on a chair and strode ug and down the room, while she arrang- e his simple breakfast. Like every one else who had come into close contact with him, Mrs. Brown had grown attached to her handsome lodgcr, and was never so pleased as when she coultl get a few words with him. "'irforGiriot.t" he aid; "yoium 1rm'"itraili you haven't much appe- tite this morning, sir," she said, gather- ing up the wet towels. .__A .... , ' me __-_ I"--- 1-..I., ...e .. My .._, -" “Wfly not?" asked Vernon Vane, look- ing guilty. "You ivasn't home till so late. Oh, I 1,tyy,1 you go up, sir, begging your par- doif. -, "All right'." he laughed. "Yes, I was late ,but I've the appetite of a tiger, Mrs. Brown, for all that. It's the salt water, I suppose." "Perhaps it is, sir,” said Mrs. Brown, with a sigh; "but for all that, I do trem- ble when I hear you go down to the beach, for the old pcoplesay you be so reckless." "Nonsense'." he said, laughing again. "Dun't be fraid, Mrs. Brown, "there's no danger. I value my life, now, beyond a lac of rupees. No, I shan‘t drown my- "M." And leaving the bewildered Mrs. Brown to puzzle over his new mood in the kitchen, he fell to breakfast». .. " . Cote, RIIKIIL'II, IIC lull tV _F_m.rF-W_.."""_. It was a hurried meal, for all his thoughts were of Jean, and before very long he had caught up his hat and was starting to plead his love with Aunt J ane. Just as his hand was on the gate, how- ever, the postman came down the street, wxllml up short. and with a touch of his hat, gave him a letter. , t " - -PV 'e---'- V, ' 0:11!" Vane glanced at it, and was thrusting it carelessly in his pocket, when, as if by a second thought, he took it out again and opened it. For a few lines he read hurriedly, hum. ming the while, then smhleufy the air ceased, and he looked thoughtful, and at last he hurried back into the house, and. with the letter in his hand, fell to pacing the room. . It was not a very long' letter, and it; WM not in a, ludy,s handwriting. Ihiq was it: ( My Dear Vane,--' write this, though not feeling at all sum, with my knowl- edge of your sublime indifference to cor- respondenee, whether you will read it, or indeed. if it will reach you; for, if I know my man, you have, I fancy. grown heart- ily sick of playing the recluse and the mysterious visitor of Newton Regis, and have left that delightful but dreary spot for fresh fields and pastures new. Where are you now, I wonder? The Nile, the Hartz mountains or up in the looks with a salmon-rod glued to your wtititt. - i am iririf'iiii" Ji"ni'oGiiaiiGis for the best of all re-ur-that I don't see any use, at present, of going anywhere else. Don't pitch this letter into the fire, un- der the fyarful impression that I am go- iug to bore you with on account of all my doings, good and bad. Seriously, I have been trying to amine myself, and should have succeeded better if I had not missed your sweet, grunting, cynical growl. I am like a man who has grown fond ot a dancing bear and lost him. We've had a. pretty good gathering late. ly, and among 'ei-who do you think.' None other than the divine Lucille her- self! The last captive of her bow and spear, the old duke, accompanied her, and remained just a month. He has gone no one knows where. They parted, it is said, in a rage, and all is broken off; whether that is true or not. I donlt any. It is rumored that the divine Lucille flew into one of her rages, told him she was tired of him, and that she could not marry a man, not even a duke, with false teeth! He has gone, at any rate, and here she in, a beautiful and as popular as over. There are three Italian counts, a French marquis, and an English bar- onet at swords drawn on her account. and as usual she looks as innocent and serene as a. sucking dove. I tell you this, not because I think you are at till inter- ested in her-oh, dear, no, "tre .13." cut- cared m ner-on, near, nu, v": no". v... ed that wound," of come, but because her ladyship mentioned to me-to whom she is sweeter than honer-rtuteyt was going next' month to Lisigh's. If I re- member rightly-) won't be Mtre--pru know mv sublime ignorance of my native huftt-that the Leigh's place is within . Icon of miles of your present bandage, a!!! tou mjght my: ngai‘nst her. . A ' "tutrshn11tatipttt-qrur- iei'iiiri't"iiour gout" be convenient to it, hm Joy "a! Httttyr I have your real Identity to the simple and eosstidtrtg MIfd'S. of Mudeurrins1oper-rr beg gut pudon, New- ton Rania. She leave: re m shout ttre tan 1Nt, She leaves lien in shout Bre weeks’ . e, to you laugh“, of time to rt up your tnpa a. cleanup. that is you do out can to remain in the neg: yiciqity of the atie. Leonie. u ",2?,eiiiiiii'a'ateiiii 176ml danger, old man! She mentiqnggl pprpame o_née bu1 "Neots miles from here," he mutter- ed; "it would not be safe to risk it. A word from her would 'spoil-ell, my whim,' and I have set my heart upon cAr- rying it out. I wonder if they would give me my Jeanne so soon-ah, , and at the thought an eager light fell on his face. "Strange how impatient I feel to make her my own-and yet I would trust her for a. lifetime-my poor little Jeanne'." Saved from Deadly Decline by Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. "When I think of my former condi- tion of health," says Miss Winnifred Perry, of West River, Sheet Harbor, N. R, "I consider myself a. lucky girl that I am well and strong to-day, and I owe my present good health entirely to Dr. I Williams' Pink Pills. I suffered almost all that one can endure from weakness and nervousness. I was as pale as I. sheet, and wasted away. The least noise would startle me, and I was troubled with fainting spells, when I would sud- l denly lose consciousness and drop to the l floor. At other times my heart would palpitate violently and cause a smother- ing sensation. Night and day my nerves were in a terrible condition, and I seemed to be continually growing worse. No medicine that I took help- ed me in the least until I began taking Dr. Williams' Pink Pills, and after I had taken half a dozen boxes, I felt so much better that I stopped taking themand went on a visit to Boston. I had made a mistake, however, in stopping the pills, too soon, and I began to go back to my ,former condition. I then called on a ‘well known Boston doctor, and after lexplnining my case. told him how Dr. i\\'illinms" Pink Pills had helped me be- fore. He told me to continue their use. I saying I could take nothing better, and I ‘got another supply and soon begun to regain health. T took about eighteen boxes in all, and they fully and com- pletely restored my health, and I have had no txielcittytm since." Dr. Williams' Pink Pills can do just} as much for every weak, nervous, pale- I faced young woman, who is slipping from anaemia into deadly decline. They make new, rich, health-giving blood, and that is what every growing girl and wo- man. must have to retain their health. It is because these pills actually make new blood that they strike at the root of all common ailments of life, such as headache and sideaches and backaches, indigestion, palpitation of the heart, kid- ney troubles, sciatica, rheumatism, neur- algia, St. Vitus Dance, and paralysis. But only the genuine pills can do this. and the sick one. should see that the full name, "Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People" is printed on the wrapper ar- ound every box. Don't let anyone per- suade you to take anything else. Sold by all dealers or sent by mail at 50 cents a box, or six boxes for $2.50, by l writing the Dr. Williams' Medicine Co., l Brockville, Ont. A rich man has the walls of his house covered with mirrors instead of pictures. In every room he can see himself in pro- file, from the roar, from the loft. from the right-in twenty different ways. Ire claims that these mirrors promote grace. He asserts he has these mirrors on his ehildren's account. . Mirrors, according to this man's view, do not, promote vanity. They promote "lpstu,lv, and, in consequence, self-im. provcmont. -- _-e---. -c" " ...,,...A dun-Linn“! y If a young girl is round shouldered she is hardly aware of her defect in the ordinary course of life. but if she lived in a house lined with mirrors she would see all the time the ugly, slovonly curve of her back. and. mortified. and grieved, she would at once set to work with suit- able exercises to become straight. All sorts of ugly habits-ugly ways of sitting, of standing, of smiling, of gestur- ing-are pictured in a. true and unflat- tering way by mirrors. The average man or woman. perceivina those waliner Bes, would set to work to remove them. The trouble is, according to the rich min, that the average person does not Ptrilr,e his several uglineses and no one Is frank enough to point them out to him. This innovator, opposing hotly the contention that mirrors foster vanity, looks at himself at home nearly all the time, and eontinupttlly urges his chil- dren to look at themselves. to study themselves and to strive daily to im- prove in grace. While systems are now being develop- ed to increase the htugitt of thoce not satisfied with their inches. France. has a medical wonder in a patient of the Paris Academy of Science who suffers from that extremely: rare disease, osm- malaehia, or winning of the bones. Normally five tvet four inches in height, the sufferer is now but three feet two, and the shrinkage continups. " II the only instance wherein the - Cues of ossification, wherein the bones harden into a rigid mass, ere not uncommon, but this ditsetuse, which is the reverse of the other complaint, in sel- dom under obserration, and elaborate radiographs have been made of the suf- ferer " various stages for the benefit of those who will not have the oppor- tunity to observe the actual patient. :géhhas riot terminatcd fatally, and the can has aroused the interest of the Con- tineatat ppysiciggs. .. (i'i'trilkci3'h A LUCKY GIRL Mirrors Cover His Walls. f To be continued.) This Man Shrinks. When they patent! Private Jones, I Y., out of the Denice he was covered with glory all In". Otherwise he had little to show for his experiences In a. soldier. . ', - i Prime John J 03353 t..oooooso-oo-ir-o-- " the Veldt, end when he end hi; fellows I with o ringing cheer drove the enemy 1 “my from the Hoekhouae a. bullet whose I billet was “Jones, I. Y.," hnd found its I destination, end the young volunteer lay may perched hours under 1 pitileu sky ', before the atreteher-bearera found him where he fell. - 7 "EH-d blistered at Durban, m. teeth had cluttered in the {tin wtiet1mepped When they did pick him up most of Printe Joried' life had oozed through a hole in his right breast. Ind it seemed hardly worth while to carry what re- mined of it to the big tent which serv- ed as I. field hoapital. But out of . sense of duty they bore him in, perfutu!torily, for at each new step the stretcher men suspected they were lugging " dead 'un." A: tor Jones, his pleasure had not been con- sulted. He had said just one word when they found him---"-"-" after that he fainted quietly and gently, and lay quite ".ill.yy1, white. $10ij the leak in Private Jones' side had moistened much soil with rich blood, and had very-nearly done for poor Pri, vate Jones, but the whole pharmacopeln holds no remedy for gunshot wounds quite equal to youth, and when it comes to doctors the best in all the profession in Doctor Hope. - These two pulled Jones around. After some burning weeks they bundled him roughly aboard an overcrowded trans- port, on which be got precious little that was fit for In invalid to eat, and put him ashore at b'outhampton. Only the constitution of a draught horse could have survived this double in- fliction, but Jones shut his teeth tight and stood it to best he could. He seem- ed even to pick up a bit. The truth isthat the hope which had drawn its bow across the thrilled strings of his eager heart was the hope that in the dear homechnd Private Jones would see Mary Farrell. He thought of her soft voice and the calm-bearing touch of her dear "ps-if only these could be his to know once more, just once, why then he could die happy. It wooidh't matter so much-at least, not to him. How Msry would feel about it he never paused to think. The fever had him most of the time, you know, and fevers and calm thinking are not close bed-fellows. The big minute hand of the big clock in the hospital dragged slowly around its Roman dial many weary times before Private Jones parted company with de- lirium and pain. Perhaps this battle against odds might have been sooner won had youth fought alone. Hope bécame a desert" early in the action, for Mary did not come. When in his sane moments Private Jones real. ized her neglect his heart grew bitter within his bosom and rosy Life looked gray as ashes. He obeyed his nurse sullonly, and once his feeble hands tore off the ban- dages of bis wound. After that they watched him closely. which was quite foolish, for when one doesn't care to live it is well to let him die. The bees and the ants and the humble savage people understand these things much better than we do. However. one sunshiny day, he chang- ed his mind, and determined to get well for spite. He would grow strong; he would arise and walk. The faithless fair one he would hunt and he would flaunt his unconvcm in her chagrined fake. There were other girls-and he was a hero, was he not? There came a morning in September; when Jones, I. Y., was bade to go and return no more. In addition to ai "Heaven bless you" they gave him an! honorable discharge, his fare to the dis- tant village, which had been his home, and certain few and stingy sovereigns which didn't aggregate a penny a drop for the blood he had shed. He was pale and not too strong, so that a stout stick stood him in high stead, but the brilliant sky and the glor- ious salted air wootyd him, and he said good-bye to his cot and his conide-s. his doctor and his i‘rses, without a pang, albeit one of the lat-tor dropped an un- seen tear behind a. furtive apron after young Private Jones had pressed her hand in parting. So Jones went home. A. any rate he called it home. It was where he hull lived as a boy and young man, where he had gone to school and learned his trade. where his only kindred slept well in the little graveyard beyond the chestnut grove in the slap of the hill. There Man-3‘" and, too. He drew a long breath, as he thought of Mary, Queer, wasn't itt Not Mary alone, but ‘nll his old friends had failed even to ', write to him while he lay so long in hou- l p‘trl. No one had cared. , Not even Millford. the farmer. for i whom he had worked our since he could lbrldle a horse. 7, _ - . - PriVate John Jones. i Not even Pete Kenn, the friend of his bosom, the only fellow in all Glan- haven who participated in the soul that pretty Minty Farrell had promised to wed sturdy John Jones, when the lat- ter came home from the war. IN ell, he would soon know what it all meant. Then he could determine what, to do, It Mary had married or was "keeping company" with summne else. never would the see the wound she had left upon his heart. He would be the gayest of we yp.v--- the most carefree daredevil who ever came home from smelling gunpowder and tasting of lead. As the vj'2age hero he might even do better tha"n Mary. There-were other fish in the sea. Well, no, not quite like Mary. To his inner eottneiottrstte" he would hardly admit this slunlcr, what- ever proud f.,tt'2C.t the bead be might weff upon his also e. . .. -- A“ m "'riGTGTGirGe Mary, after an.) He could whip the fellow who would! venture to hold a Meter» te. . I Even the crawling train which carried Private Jones over the In: part of his journey did not stop " the Glenhaven station, except upon signal, or to m off passengers. Therefore, when the putting 1oeomotiN stopped on this shining morning the sta- tioa-matrter came to his door in curiosity, snarling tis eyes with his 1131111.. v -irirG Ito "saw Private Jones, I. Y., teddy descend the 'teps and set " feet TORONTO toward him the station-master turned pnle, Then he shouted, and with n bound reached the home-coming ooldje'r 1nd seized both his hands. "Why, John J ones," cried he, QXulm'r 1y, "where have you been; coming here like a ghost to not People UrigUt" “nun...” h-.. - M.‘ "l. h...- ".. __ ewhik'd you a'poie I'd Boon, Mr. Iawier, fishin t" -- _ - - John' Jone. was naturally mind. m knew where he had been. ey knew knew where he had been. The} knew where he bed been of course. They had been well enough ewue when u went awni. The whole populetion from over the itiudeomeikirutoseehuesom. any when it went through from Beir- ry to join the regiment. How ell of them had cheered him. And, there wee one who cried, proudly. .. . Lurk: dnég'ea his itory from him by inchel. The volunteer thought himself ill-used. But' ue,, he gasped the truth the In- tiontmuster whittled one long note of mi?gled Edge __nnd_ trndfr.. .. . - "dreatUiU," said he, 'tiut there's one will, be 3114 lo "t pp, John." . " _ ma Rial .giin' inio . reverie at astonishment. “Mafia in“ to know," queried John crustily. "None of them thought it worth tinge torrite or, inquire}: . ... m still thought Sim-e1: e much m. used patriot. The stattomnaater looked up guickly, n light breaking over hie atom! nee. "Oh. I'd forgot," he said. “Moybe you don't know you're dead." "Dead," "Yes, buried." "I may be dead," said John, who we: laughing now, for the sighted land, "tmt I'm blessed if I'm buried. Who buried met" "Her." The tttatiortmatster jerked en indicatory thumb across his shoulder, over hillwardl way. patienty. And he told all too slowly for the im- petuous young volunteer-of how new had come of John's killing before Col- enso, of how it had been verified by official lists, of how the Rev. Gibson had preached a morning sermon upon patriot- ism with John as the theme. Of how Mary Farrell had fallen in the clutch of brain fever and woke with a mind a, lit- tle astray. She was not violent, the su- tionmnster said, nor mud, but only daft, as he called it, upon one tsubjeet-John's death and his promotion. . ' "They let her alone," said Lawier,hutd up in that big place among the trees she does pretty much as she likes and surely hurts no one. Thath, where you're buried. Let’s see. To-day you are a general." The volunteer looked his amazement. "lt's this way." the stationmnster went on, enjoying his unusual loquaeity, "she made a little memorial mound for Sou, sort o'prave like, you know. up there in the wood, and she keeps flowers and wraiths and things on it.' "Well," cried John, whose eyes was moistened, "what has that to do with In. ‘being a general?” l "Oh, well, she painted some head- boards, ‘Saerod to the memory or-you know, who fell at Colenso, and each day she puts up a new one. Suudsy reads 'Private John Jones.' Tuesday it says 'Sergeant.' This is Saturday. Gauche! are she's up there now, sittin' up I board which says ‘General John Jones,' and anvaterin' your grave with her tears." Even so it was. John halted long with his fingers on th gate of the churchyard. Within the familiar enclosure sat upon the ground amid the autumn leaves the Mary he loved dearly, her hands within her lap, steadily looking at the mound of earth, at whose head shone a white head-board. amid whose profuse lettering he could clearly read only one line. this-- ' "General John Jones, I. Y." A twig cracked beneath his feet as he stepped within, She turned about and looked deep into his pale, face. Then. with a swift sol) she rose like a startled deer and met his waiting arms. The promotion of Private Jones had eome.--nllustrated Bits. "Yen me about it," cried John, int. i otherwise yo"ur name will appear in I the paw-re hut ntwo--but onee!---sand an :muzd wi',', Lam: of yam chi-tence onl through hcaring that you are deal What is worse .it will not are. even Jthan. Think of the martyr who db- lcovered that modesty is ita own I.- ‘ward. Ilia nune is lost, his idea forgotten. He wu too retiring by q lin addition to'being nobody. of obituaries that is ye limit. Society was created by simple“ that mumps might live in it; and to live, to really live, although at um. blush it may: mom a. very general occu- pation, is, on the contrary, curiously rare. Few there are that live. The existence of the bulk of humanity is comparable to that of ants. It is Just as anonymous, quite as obarure. To cheapo trout the horrors of that obscur- ity, to climb, however transienthy, into view, to be obvious, to have 1 mo, though it be a. bad one, men have so» to the scaffold, occasionally to the altar and thence hock again to the about“, from which thei came. Yet that, per- bays. is better t " nothing. It may no dreudlul to have your name in the pa.- pers; it is still more dreadful not to. To see it. there is really something; but to see yourself caricattwed in succeu. Only celebrities are lumpooued. Oahu-it is not appreciamd at its truo value, except by ihc-Freneh, who In". such a pretty mme for it. They on] it amour propre. Much, to them, at on of the cardinul virtues, and should be to you. For it, odiuonislul you to “I” sell of yourself. lf you omit to who In the world will do it tor you'. If you do not look as though you owned the earth owl-n mu do it in vour stead? Anon not 100K who can yourself. 1f one I ""iiiiritTrraCut being somebody. n is not only important, It In -. You can fool everybody but ,ouraelt.-HMg" Sultan, in July Smart Set. Liverpool is to Ga . Crystal an. of its own. It will be than“ a. ttb torernol, I few mi!" from the city. The Importance of Being Somebody. way to pen on. otother--try . them all assum nu have It not. m. ._ W. ttid/i, bl