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MOTOR CARS maduct . his sitions for cond eyele n througlhâ€" L. Harrias. conduct at tival. IGNAL. ‘ was in the Cana s Were Hurt zo of King y‘s Heir Out TMEN REST. ING 0F MR arl Grey ng upon paganda. Highâ€" rlready °ss â€" im CAUSED H neat ntire ning â€"men ning MS m th NW 3 xt in ang of he ‘our in igerous )e plaeâ€" he )m‘tted w reg» publie _ mendgâ€" > he exâ€" N hryur ‘posing nul enâ€" m the 34 6Or 6 im F hick menag M sDe@ 'P.P h h the "You ought not to be so angry with me, uncle," said Mona, gently. "I am only exercising a right of choice that beâ€" longs to the humblest and poorest. 1 am really grieved to think we must part. “You have been very good to me, and 1 ope I have been some comfort t::ou; but there must be no misunderstanding: I never will accept a husband, save ofi «y own free cholge!" .. _. ‘ /4 .. _ pushed hers away, and turned his face I will come to you said, kindly, "I will never offer to reâ€" turn, but if you want me, and ask me, "And you m{ please yourself for me, uncle!‘" oried Kenneth; "any way, it will no weigh on my conscience that 1 didn‘t try to do as yo udesired." "Aweel, I know that, an‘ I shall not ,lorget it, though I will not have you dictating and presuming. You just give notice to your employers, and come awa‘ wi‘ me to Craigdarroch. And you, Mona, I am done wi‘ you; you may go to your chum. 1 renounce you; you are just heartless, like your ould grandmither‘s fine aristocratic freends, and look down on folka that are better than yourself." "Do not contradict him,." whispered Mona, passing close by, as she approachâ€" ed her uncle. "Goodâ€"bye, then," she "And a mull you‘ll mak‘ of it! Kenâ€" neth, my mon. l‘ll tak‘ a glass o0‘ water wi‘ a drap o‘ whiskeyâ€"just ring the bell. I‘ll trouble you nae mair, Miss Craig; you can drop my name .Fin’ for a‘ I care, and gang yer ways. You, Kenneth, just give warning to your landlady; J‘ll give you Mona‘s room." _ . ol She tried to take his hand, but he neth, firmly. "I will not stand in my cousin‘s way." He had been fidgeting uneasily, eager to put in a word. “g'ou'll not stan‘ in your cousin‘s way! you‘ll not! What‘s that to you!? Are you baith so daftâ€"like as to think you can divide my property andâ€"and my siller betwixt {e. under my very een, beâ€" fore the breath is oot 0‘ my body? Eh but I‘ll give neither of ye a bawbee! I‘ll Jjust build a retreat for puir meenisters, and endow it. Why should I fash myâ€" self wi‘ a couple of contermacious young fules?*" ‘ "But, uncle, I can notâ€"* uirpossible it is for any one to choose a husband or wife for another. I am by no means afraid of managing my own life unassisted by a husband." "Eh, you think you might rule the kingdom, I daur say! But I‘ll no have anybody wi‘ me that will not hear reaâ€" son, or respect my wishes. Kenneth has done his best to ovey me, so he shall come with me to Craigdarroch! and you can stay with fhat fantastical Frenchâ€" woman, who, I suppose, encourages ye in 1 , t am very sorry if I have offended () for I really like him, but I thought it only right to explain that I could give him no hope." "And he did nae offend you*" "Oh, no, uncle. Kenneth would never “flend a lady," | COB as way sulee P e c i it e Sn us s . um a h no life f"' a thought of yowr puir uncle‘s comâ€" ort, all for mere selfishness, and an illâ€" placed fancy. A woman‘s life is no good to her, if she hasna a husband to rule As. en e ies meering deevil, Everard, he wadna walk meross the street for you. You‘ll be sorâ€" ry for your contradictiousness one day." "My dear uncle," laughing, "I never supposed Bertie Everard cared for morâ€" tal but himself. I assure you I have no lad of any description in my mind‘s eye." "Aweel," cried Uncle Sandy, greatly enrazed, "it is varra ungrateful and unâ€" becomin‘ to mak‘ a laughingâ€"stock _ of your uncle, wha has spent a kist o* siller on you! To think that you‘ll reâ€" fuse a fine, good young man, and never interrupted hi “Ayr ay, m in the sea n’1 it‘s no your f: the matter wi another lad i ne‘erâ€"doâ€"weel, "Instinets, indee a dog! Why did able young manâ€" youâ€"in a way t} never ask you ma In that 1 can not agree with you! 1 sincerely sorry to disappoint you; if you think of it, you will see how ossible at must n na he did nae offend you*" h, no, uncle. Kenneth would never d a lady." am glad you say it, for I have been Ceylon GREEN Tea ‘‘" Kot so far, when Mr. Craig ted him bitterlyâ€"â€" iy, my lad! there‘s as good fish is preferred by fovjmer Japan tincts, indeed! You ‘_ Why did ye speak Lead packets only. At all Grocers. h s e o P rwire AEAETT way that gars him say he‘ll you mair? _ever was caught; an‘ I see fault, I don‘t know what‘s v1‘ you, Mona?® If you have in your e‘e, it‘ll be some , I‘m afeared. If it‘s von aff without a lassie to look _ you speak up, Kenneth, ot be, uncle," said Kenâ€" 1 will not stand in my ‘C._ rou are no cat or* ye speak to a respect-l your uncle‘s heir, mind because P 1ormer Japan tea drinkers of its greater purity. _ _"Until I married some selfish tyrant o1 a man, who would show his love by sepâ€" arating me from you." returned Mona, taking her hand in both hers with am afâ€" fectionate smile. "Ah, just so." sighed Mme, Debrisay; "there are eddies of misfortune at every bend in the stream of life; some slip past them and more slip in. I don‘t know how it is, Mona, you always remind me of my precious baby girl that was taken from me when she was two years old. She had hair just like yours. How much ’t\e heart can live through; I died one _death when I found out the real man I had married, but I came to life again with the life I gave. Then I went down to the grave once more with my sweet baby, and &%-’ a halfâ€"consclous exâ€" istence till De! went; that took been wise tak‘ "Is it, my darling? Ah, it warms my heart to hear you say so! If you beâ€" longed to me now ; if you were my own, own child, oh, it would give me the strength of a dozen women to work for you and fight for you; not but I‘d do it all the same, only I‘d have a right to vyou. then." "Thet would be a cruel punishment for an outbreak of temper; it was nothâ€" ing more. Came, Gearest Deb, I am tired and depressed ; I will go to bed. Do you know that it is very delightful, the idea of breakfasting teteâ€"aâ€"tete with you toâ€" morrow ?" "When I hope you will have more spirâ€" it than to respond!" cried madame, inâ€" dignantly; "he deserves to be left to hirelings for the rest of his days." "I do not believe he is quite heartless," said Mona, thoughtfully; "I believe he is fond of me, and will soon recall me." ‘You are no l«-hnnter, Mona. I declare that cantankerous uncle of yours can have no more heart than a flint." "The usual fat turned Mona. sm "Oh, good enough, but not for such as you. So I suppose it is all over!" "What is all over?" asked Mona. "My hopes that your uncle would proâ€" vide for you. Now you are no better off than you were before. _ Indeed you &re worse off, for you have to make up for all the time you spent wandering about with that old beamdls _ "Turned you out!" repeated Mme. Deâ€" brisay, as she struck a match and lightâ€" ed the gas. "Has he gone off his head*" "I do not think so; but 1 have venâ€" tured to believe you will take me in, and in that belief I have told Mrs. Padâ€" diford that my room was wanted, so I came over here." "Turned you out!" repeated Mme. Deâ€" brisay, sitting down suddenly and taking off her bonnet, which she* dropped on the floor; "and all for not marrying that longâ€"legged Highlander, who is not fit to dust your shoes." "No, no, Deb! he is a very oood fel. O w "Easily enough, dear Deb! Uncle Sanâ€" «dy has turned me out because I have decidedly refused to marry Kenneth Macâ€" alister." Mme. Debrisay did not come in tiil ten o‘clock. "And is it here you are .all alone by yourself in the dark ?"" she cried, comâ€" ing in quickly through the soft gloom of a summer‘s night. "That is too bad! To think of me talking to that castleâ€" building German,when I might have been here with you, dear. How is it you got F L P mt away from our dear Old Man of the Sea ?" She had often felt weary of poor Uncle Sandy‘s whims and exactions, but she had grown to care more for him than she knew. He had become so dependent on her, that the maternal instincts of a woâ€" man‘s heart had gone out to the creaâ€" ture she protected. Moreover, she beâ€" lieved him to be a greater su!jererthan he really was. That he shoul attempt to dictate to her in such a purely perâ€" sonal matter was hurtful enough, but that he should rudely turn her‘ out wounded her deeply. _ How miserable the old man would be, too, all alone, doing battle with the landlady, and fretâ€" ting over a hundred and one trifling anâ€" noyances from which he had hitherto been shielded. Was it possible that the moisture on her cheek was a tear * She ‘ was afraid that, on the whole, she was no favorite of fortune. _ It seemed her fate to be constantly uprooted. _ How little rest she had known since she left the tranquil seclusion of her Dresden, schoolâ€"only a few months of feverish fitful joy, and then clouds and darkâ€" ness so Mona sat down to 40c, 30c and 60c per pound. Highest Award St. Louis, 1904. A change had indeed come o‘er the spirit of her dream. Mona scarcely e&â€" pected such energetic action on her unâ€" cle‘s part. That he would be angry she expected, but she did not think he would take such strong meagures, However, there was nothing for it but submission to the decree of banishment pronounced against her; she therefore . packed up her belongings, told the lamfl:tdy she was going away for a short time, and reâ€" treated to Mme. Debrisay. That lady. was not at home. She 19% her Mona looked at him kindly, and a litâ€" tle sadly, and then left. the room, forbidâ€" ding Kenneth, by a gesture, to follow from her like a naughty child CHAPTER XVIIL is a very good fel gaey hun ters," reâ€" to wait for her. _ weary of poor Uncle / J with a wonderful old millionaire of an uncle. Come, let me drive you wherever you are going, or, better still, let me ukoao:to.'eebtb . _ Such a dear, darâ€" ling baby. You 'ifl be enchanted with Following the man, Mona was soon shaking hands with her former ally. "I was so afraid I should miss ou, dear," cried the young peeress, shl{i hands warmly with ber. "I was n'r:;s you had vanished from me altogether. Bertie told me about meeting you abroad "Her ladyship is iirti\e-'c:;i'ug‘e, close b)’." C T d e EC s Mme. Debrisay insisted on her being a guest for at least a month, to which the fear of offending her kind hostess comâ€" pelled Mona to agree. Otherwise, the rest and congenial companionship were very delightful. Uncle Sandy had been gone about a week, and the last days of fuly w "re fast slipping away, when one warm, sultry afternoon, as Mona was leavin Marshall & Snelgrove‘s. where she had geen shopâ€" ping for madame, whose soul expanded at sale time, a smart footman overtook her, accosting her with the words, "If you please‘m, Lady Â¥Finistoun would be‘ glad to speak to you." _ _"Lady Finistoun?" repeated looking around. "Where is she ?" she was hurt by her uncle‘s conduct, but not inconsolabie. She only regretted seriously the period of the year at which the break had occurred, as the difficulty of finding employment forced her to impinge on her smal capital. x‘ w s : en an Cl it 1 I2 o Eo baant vie ukc l t Obiin‘> 4e ds 22. + 4 when he passed her without the slightest sign of recognition. She came home in high wrath, and denounced his folly and obstinacy, and many other bad qualities, with much eloquence. Mona said nothâ€" ing. i uen c i 2 es o C Mona could hardly believe that Uncle Sandy would leave town without seeing her, and she kept a good deal fndoors until the Monday fixed for his departure ; but the old man made no advance. In. deed, one afternoon Mme. Debrisay met him walking with the aid of his stick, vdlrcne Toc Sealnn d a in 1. 2 ev Adt weu Some more talk and friendly conjec ture made time pass quickly till Ken neth rose to bid them goodâ€"night. M c S0 000 t e ar EmLL + "Eh, I shouid indeed. Uncle Sandy treats me very different from what he does you. I cannot manage for him in the house, but I am not afraid of the frelds and the woods. TH manage them fine. I was always the laird‘s factbr till my poor mother died, and then Uncle Sandy would have me in an office to learn business." "L will drop you a line, cousin. The worst is, I see no chance of getting away north to (lencorrie. My uncle will not let me stir from him." "That will be trying. You would want my help there, Kennetht." t Wds dn aialfail is c ind on a c "You must write and let us know how my help there, Kenneth." "I don‘t think I am so valuable that they want to keep me," said Kenneth, with a grin. "Anyhow, we are off on Monday; and I can‘t say I like having the care of Uncle Sandy all that way. We are to stay a couple ‘of days in Glasâ€" gow, that he may see his man of busiâ€" ness, and then go on to Kirktounâ€"that‘s the nearest station to Craigdarroch. It‘s on a loch, I believe, and it‘s a finc place." COur us enc de t 0 ag ie t . 7 "That is true. Eh, but he is dreadâ€" fully angered against Mona," returned Kenneth, addressing Mme. Debrisay. "When I said I would come over and sce her, he broke out against her, and forâ€" bade me to cross your threshold. I could not stand that. I just told him that I was willing to obey him in many ways, but that neither of us had any right to quarrel with her. So, after some words â€"a good many wordsâ€"he told me to do as I liked, but I was never to name your name to him. He is awrtul miserableâ€" just fretting the flesh off his bones. We &;l'(’ to start for Craigdarroch on Monâ€" day." "On Monday!" excelaimed madame. "And will they let you away from the office so soon *" "We shall never know cill poor Uncle Randy has no further need of our serâ€" vices," said Mona, amiling. "So there is no use conjecturing." "After all," cried Mme. Debrisay, "I don‘t believe he has much to leave behind him. He talks big; but for all the ery I suspect there is not much wool." "There is no telling," said Kenneth. "But I think he is rich, My poor mother thought he was ferry rich." ’ "Let me give you a cup of tea, Mr. Kenneth," said madame, kindly. "It is my opinion," she continued, as she pourâ€" ed it out, "that neither one or other. of you will ever see a sou of your uncle‘s money. He will get all he can out of you, and then leave all he has to some church or institution, or something wickâ€" ed of that kind." "No, I do not think that," returned Mona, thoughtfully. "I believe he is quite earnest in his intention now, but he might get angry again and change his mind." t Mife \nth se ar tcrgatiantiintisres Li "Happy," he repeated; "I am diust misâ€" ' "A’nd what have you done with the unâ€" erable. I am think Uncle San y‘s gone | cle?" clean daft, He was up in the city at| "He has quarrelled with me and left our place, and saw Mr. Sinclairâ€"that is | me." j the principal Fartner. Came in all the| "Oh, you foolish girl! How did you rain in a cab from Moorgate street. He | offend him?" told Mr. Sinclair that he was going to | "It is too long a story to tell you adopt me, and requested I might be alâ€" ; now. Tell me about yourself." lowed to leave, as he could not go to his | Nothing loath, Lady Finistoun pourâ€" place in the Highlands without me. So , ed forth the annals of a golden life floodâ€" I was called up, and old Sinclair made ‘ ed with the sunshine of prosperityâ€"with me a speech about my good fortune, and busK pleasure and careless, though kindâ€" my excellent conduct while in the serâ€" | ly, happiness, vice of the house (I don‘t believe he | They were, she said, on the point of knew my name rightly half an hour beâ€" starting for a month‘s ecruise in northern fore); and the two old fellows comrh- latitudes, with a gay party, in the Duke‘ mented each other. I fancy Mr. Sinclair | of Hallamshire‘s yacht, during which thinks I am to come in for ten thousand time the son and heir, now nine months a& year at least. This morning all the old, was to stay with Lady Mary at the clerks were congratulating me, and I felt ; Chase, like a thief." s (To be continued.) "Why should you, Kenneth? I assul]'e ~â€"â€"â€"â€"#4§@â€"â€"â€"_ you I should have been more miserable than you look, if I thought my uncle C“".D"OOD DANGERS‘ had quarrelled with you about me. I have Diarrhoea, dysentery, cholera infantum perfect confidence in your layalty." !nnd stomach troubles are alarminale &... 6e w n s d d 1 n P ® D ult oul autis iA $ 428 he4 “llfllfi "And you may have that, Cousin Moâ€" no; but it‘s many a long day before I can be of any use to you." C e CE t OPm P e es a load off me. I began to be & living ‘ him. Do come in. Open the door, Wilâ€" woman again. The music always was a , liam." comfort to me; and here I am, battling | "Oh, yes! I!houldbodcflsbtodbm for bread, and taking what pleasure I can { your baby, dear Ewlhy:l!” said Mona. get! Is it not amazing, tge vitalit of! The next minute she was seated beside l.ome natures? Now I have you to {ook \ Lady Flmltoun, and driving toward that after, dear, it doubles my life. Ah, what M‘{;.hhm. would we be without love? It is the true! "Why did you not let me know you religion, and the real damning sin is selfâ€" | were in town ?" ishness! Goodâ€"night, dear." ‘ "I have not been long here," returned The next day was one of Mme. Debriâ€" Mona, "and I have been busy. Nor did say‘s busiest, and it was exceedingly wet. | I think of looking you up. !:c'm see it is Mona sat indoors very contentedly, busy | no use attempting to be on the old footâ€" with book or needle, and Uncle Sandy ‘ing. We must drift apart." # made no sign. $ "Oh, nonsense! You look as wellâ€" The following evening, Kenneth made indeed better than ever. You will never his appearance, with an exceedingly perâ€" | lose your style, Mona, and I dare say turbed aspect. , you will marry very well, especially with The partners were sitting at a table | this rich uncle behind you!" enjoying a late tea when he came in. I "My uncle has an heir." "Well, Mr. Macalister, what news?" i "No! Has he? How very disgraceful! cried Mme. Debrisay, putting down the | Never mind, dear, you are evidently a teapot to shake hands with him. ! favorite of fortune. ‘Where are you stayâ€" "Goodâ€"evening, Kenneth, You do not | ing now ?" ‘ look too happy." said Mona. Eo "Wilh Malla..simigkad Lata repeated _ Mona (Boston Herald.) It is said the art of whistling will soon be counted among the lost unless there is a revival of the cheery spirit that seems to be forsaking men. Nobody whistles as he works in these strenuous days. He has too much on his mind to pucker his Mps in a whistle. Nor does he hum or sing to himâ€" self for that matter. Ife is, if not downright sad, too busy for that joyous and uncanâ€" scious expression of contentment. That a gentleman is just what the word implieeâ€"a man who is gentle m his dealings with the opinions, feelings, and weaknesses of other people.â€"Mothâ€" er‘s Magazine. That there can be mo compromise beâ€" tween honesty and dishonesty, That the virtues of punctuality and politeness are excellent things to cultiâ€" vate. That the ‘best things in life are not those than can be bought with money., That to command he must 7firr;t"i‘é.n.m to obey. That true manliness always commands sucoess. To form no friendships that can bring him into degrading associations. a To respect other people‘s convictions. To reverence womanhood, To live a clean Jlife in thought and word as well as in deed. To be true to his word and work. To face all difficulties with courage and cheerfulmess, _ The water at present acknowledged to be the bluest is that of the Sargasso sea, between the Cape Verdi islands and the Antilles, _ The water of the Mediterâ€" ranean off the French coast and around Capri is bluer than that of Lake Leman, much less blue itself than that of the lakes of Kandersteg and Arolla, in Switâ€" zerland. Pure water containing a milâ€" lionth of ferric hydrate appears brown under a thickness of six meters; a tenâ€" millionth is sufficient for it to be green and in order that it may remain blue is needed less than a twenty-mil]ionth.â€"{ Illustration. } It is not due to the chemical purity of the water, since the sea, which is the bluest water, is also that which contains the most salt, ~Nevertheless, according the Forel‘s experiments, the matter in solution should be the predominant cause of the modification of color, upon which act, besides the matter in suspenâ€" sion, the color of the bottom and the reâ€" flection of the sky and the banks, Conâ€" sequently blue water is pretty rare in nature; a good many seas and lakes that give us the impression of this tint are green. 1 Scientific Men at Last Agreed as to its Color. After long hesitation, scientific men agree toâ€"day in admitting that water physically pure, seen in mass, is sky blue. This color is that taken by the white light of the sun when absorbed by the water in consequence of a phenomenon the explanation of which would be a litâ€" tle long. | Diarrhoea, dysentery, cholera infantum {nnd stomach troubles are alarmingly freâ€" : quent during the hot weather months, Too often these troubles become acute, fund a precious little life is lost after _only a few hours‘ illness. During the hot weather season every wise mother should keep a box of Baby‘s Own Tabâ€" lets in the house to check these ills if they come suddenly. Better still, an occasional dose of this medicine will keep the stomach and bowels clean, and preâ€" vent those dangerous ailments ooming.‘ Mrs. John Lancaster, North Portal, Snsk.,‘ says: "My baby was attacked with diarâ€" rhoea and severe vomiting. I at once gave Baby‘s Own Tablets and next day she was as well as ever. I find the Tablets are the only medicine a little one needs." Sold by all medicine dealers or by mail at 25 cents a box from The Dr. Williams, Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. 10 w C CCCCE WIWE URC UH* cle ?" "He has quarrelled with me and left me," "Oh, you foolish girl! How did you offend him?" "It is too long a story to tell you now. Tell me about vanrcalf" 1 M oT e ie o °P "Oh, nonsense! You look as wellâ€" indeed better than ever. You will never lose your style, Mona, and I dare say you will marry very well, especially with this rich uncle behind you!" "My uncle has an heir." "No! Has he? How very disorasatult PURE WATER IS SKY BLUE. "Oh, yes! Igbouldbedelifihtedto'ee your baby, dear Evelyn!" said Mona. The next minute she was seated beside Lady Finistoun, and driving toward that lady‘s house. ‘I{Vhy did you not let me know vou mans e 4 l in "With Madame Debrisay." W uoi 2s J Too Busy to Whistle. Teach the Boy. anle eeie ol my plan," he said, mndâ€" . _ "These rich mmo no 'll“‘l'l, you The stockbroker retired to his paper, looking annoyed because there was someâ€" one in the world as pugnacious as himâ€" self, and Mr. Fish, of Forest Gate, pickâ€" ed ng the thread of2his discourse exactâ€" ly where he had dropped it. _ _ "The fact is, I don‘t‘suppose Rothschiid He leaned forward. "And I‘d have you to know they‘re none the worse for beâ€" ing Scotch," he said, looking as if nc would like to fight the entire stock exâ€" eh:‘nge on the subject, "I though tthey were Seotch," inter mfied the stockbroker, is brought up a remark fagm a long leged individual in the corner. "1 say it grieves me to hear anyone talk like that," repeated the old man, firmly. _ "The present government is a bod:y of ho_noraEle Englishmenâ€"" "Oh," And the stockbroker snorted rather like a motor car might be expectâ€" ed to do when it sees a policeman with a watch in his hand. The little old man took up the chalâ€" lenge cheerfully. "It grieves me to hear you speak like that, sir," he saia, bristling with indignaâ€" __ AMir. Fish looked vaguely grieved, but the stockbroker, who was in his most truculent humor, suddenly fixed with his eyes a little old man with muttonâ€"chop whiskers and cleanâ€"shaven upper lip, wno was reading. "I‘d begin with e present government," he said, pointedly. "I‘d send every man jack of them to the pole and chain ‘em to it." tion. _ _AMr. Fish leaned forward eagerly, "Don‘t issue return tickets," Mr, Fish looked perplexed. "Why not, sir?" "Because there are several people whom I for one would like to send there, if-lL:ould be sure they‘d never come At this point the cous voice burst mmto a way that made Mr. the gentlest of creati 1 e e d the gentlest of creaturesâ€"to start, "A railway to the pole wouldn‘t be half ibad," he said with a grin. "And I‘ll tell you how it could be made to _willte so, 1 wrote a letter to the Morning Post about it. But you know what these editors are. They refuse to put in anything that‘s really interestâ€" ing." "What was the principle on which you proi)osed to work ?" * "I proposed, sir ,to lay down a light railway," he said, impressively, "A light railway to the pole," I gasped, "Why not? I should carry it over the ice on elevators. Simple as A BC . Al it wants is a certain amount of organizâ€" ing. I dropped a note to Rothschild about it. Had an awfully civil letter from his secretary." "What did he say ?" "He said his lordship thought the plan . most original." Mr. Fish paused and . smiled with conscious pride. "But he regretted he couldn‘t see his way to finâ€" ance it," he added, dreamily. "He doubtâ€" ed if the traffic would justify its existâ€" ence, and thought there were practical difficulties to be overcome." Bay l t Et "Worked the whole thing out on pa per," said Mr. Fish, quiet!‘y. _ "I‘d under take to reach the pole in six months It‘s a question of expense," w "> 12 2 1 "You‘ve got a pl said, encour_a_ging]}.‘ Â¥o you see about this fellow who‘s going to try to get to the North Pole in an airship?" he said. turning to me. "Shocking mistake, isn‘t it ?" "You don‘t think he‘ll succeed ?" "No chance," said Mr. Fish. "In the first place, his airship‘s built on a wrong principe OI‘ve vâ€"ne into the matter pretty closely, There‘s not enough body in it. Do you follov me? Now, if 1 were building an airship I should make it something like a hansom cab, but without the wheels, _ Your propellers would be attached to the shafts and the steering apparatus would hang out beâ€" hind. Quite simple. I can‘t think why the idea hasn‘t sturck someone else, But, as a matter of fact, an airship isn‘t the thing for the pole." paper and gre sounded like "P Fish didn‘t hear _ "A firstâ€"class smoker doesn‘t seem to be large enough for some people‘s feet," said a man on the opposite seat. "They ought to travel Pullman." But Mr. Fish is one of those fortunate I)eop]e who never understand a sarcasm leveled at themselves. "I don‘t approve of Pullman cars,‘* he remarked, â€" "My wife and I once went down to Brighton in one and I sat in a draught. I never had such a face in my life. Thought it was lockjaw coming on." The stockbroker looked up from his "Quite so "V, "That‘s all right," grumpily, Then he c;vedgod himself in between the clergyman and a bank clerk, and apologized to the latter for standing on his foot. _ _ Me removed his straw colored ribbon ard placed with his bag beside it. "So sorry," he said. pleasan it really wasn‘t my fault. T drivers on this line don‘t start properly," T e Aa ues (BACCRN ' "Room for oner‘ inquired Mr. Fish, when the train pulled up at Forest Gate. ' He stepped in and nodded genially to the burly stockbroker in the corner, "Good morning, sir. We‘re going to have some rain." The stockbroker glared at him. "Weaâ€" ther report says ‘Fine,‘" he snapped. "The weather report‘s wrong," eaid Mr. Fish, with a gentle firmness, "\We shall have a smart shower before nuight. The wind‘s in the northeast," There was a clergyman in the carriage who was not acquainted with Mr. Fish‘s ! heavenâ€"sent gift of being better informed than everyone, and he dug into the eonâ€" versation,. "I think you‘ll find that when tire wind‘s in the northeast we are in for a da-(v spel!," he said, blandly. Mr. Fish beamed upon him. "A popuâ€" . lar fallacy, sir. We shall have rain withâ€" in twelve hours." At that moment the train started with a jerk, and Mr. Fish, who had pausâ€" ed to deliver his opinion, sat down in my lap, ery costly business," I growled somefhing""th-;l.; "Pity it wasn‘t," but Mr. Rn_d_ plpced it on plan of your own?" I stockbroker‘s rauâ€" the conversation in Fishâ€"who is really said. pleasantly. "But said the bank clerk fa.ult. 7"’5};: -engjne‘ ventured to hat with the up from his the trains the rack NO DEAD FLIES LYING ABOUT Bold by all Druggists and General Stores In that case the c‘reumstances must be regarded as d« ‘v unsatisfactory and as emphasizing «se need of a stringâ€" ent recasting of our immigration laws, It is not desirable to have myriads of aliens flocking hither, with no thought of becoming Americanized. but meaniag to remain aliens, to get all the American money they can and then to return to their old homes.â€"New York Tribune. A feature of the case which is of speâ€" cial interest to the United States is that a considerable number of these Hungarâ€" ian immigrants seem disinclined to beâ€" come citizens or to become in any way permanently identified with this country. They retain their allegiance to the King, they send back their savings to the oid country, and after a time they themâ€" selves return thitherâ€"precisely as the Chinese have so often been denounced for doing. _ In connection with that cirâ€" cumstance it is pertinent to recall that Baron de Levay, in the utterance which we have cited, declared that the Hunâ€" garian government had officially providâ€" ’ed means for the safe transmission home of emigrants‘ remittances of savings, and for the repatriation of those who needed to return home. If to this we add the official statement recently attributed to Dr. Wekerle, the Hungarian Prime Mimsâ€" ter ,that the efforts of the Hungarian government to induce its emigrants to America to retain their Hungarian citiâ€" zenship are meeting with much sucress, we may perhaps arrive at an explanaâ€" tion of the phenmonea we have remarkâ€" ed upon. * 1 ARCHDALE WILSON, | and by mail. ~. TEN CENTS PER PACKET rRom Inasmuch as statistics are not availâ€" able in Turkey, is is impossible to state the exact amount of the candle importaâ€" tions; it is known, however, that the consumption is very large. Candles are used in every home and hut in city and country. They are used in the houses of the wealthy natives as well as in the tents of the nomad tribes. Large quanâ€" tities are furnished to the hotels and churches. _ They are an infportant feaâ€" ture of all religious ceremonies, During the celebration of marriages the guests hold long lighted candles, which they carry away to their homes when they depart. Persons desirous of bringing good fortune to relatives and friends, or hoping to draw the blessings of heaven upon themselves, frequently keep from one to five candles constantly burning upon the church altars. The Mohammeâ€" dans also use them in their places of worship. I Those of domestic production are handâ€"made and of poor finish. The maâ€" terials used in making them are paraffin and stearin (imitation bees‘ wax), and in some instances _ real wax is used. Most of the foreign candles consumed in Byria are of French make. _ They are imported through commission _ houses and are sold to Syrian wholesale dealers; a credit of three or four months is usuâ€" ally given. _ Practically all the business of Syria is in the hands of commission merchants. Rich and Poor Make Use of These Illuminants. Vice Consulâ€"General William C. Magâ€" elsson writes from Beirut that the canâ€" dles used in Syria are both manufactured locally and imported. . Aale 3 man who is seeking trouble. . Mr. Fish wished me good morning hurâ€" riedly, He had decided to call on the traffic superintendent and give him a few hints on the better mannnamané mt Ks 1. . "[Enbors get a word in edgeways. But thereâ€"" At this moment the train rolled into Liverpool street and there was a scramâ€" ble for hats, sticks and bags, "If ever you join a thinking club, sir, I‘ll pay your subscription," _ said the stock broker, by way of a parting thrust. And he strode away with the air of a ed pleasantly behind his spectacles, "We‘d all join," said the stock broâ€" ker, grimly, Mr. Fish beamed with pleasure, "We all need more time for meditaâ€" tion," he said. "Many people when once they start talking don‘t seem to know when to stop. They won‘t let their neighbors get a word in edgeways. But thereâ€"" w0 20 Te # CHTC going to quote Carnegie," "I certa(i]nly think t;gnlt Mr, Carnegieâ€"" "Carnegie never made a bigger mistake in his life than when he began opening libraries. _ The world doesn‘t want any more libraries, sir, There are too many books already," "But surely readingâ€"â€"" "Reading is mostly waste of time, i1 "What the world wants is thinking clubs." _ "Thinking clubs? You mear thatâ€"" "I mean that some of us talk too much and think too little," said Mr. Fish, shakâ€" ing his head, sadly. "If I were a milâ€" lionaire, I should surprise some of those fellows. _ I should build thinking clubs @all over the country, where no one was allowed to speak." "I think that an admirable suggestion" said the clergyman, and his eyes twinklâ€" ed pleasantly behind his snecthnlse of a man who knows what he is talking about. "It‘s a law of the universe, Can you give me the name of a millionaire who is doing any good in the world." "I consider thatâ€"*" I began. But Mr. Fish checked me with upraised hand. "I know what you‘re going to say before you open your mouth, You‘re HAMILTON, ONT. Won‘t Become Citizens, tendent and give him a few hints better management of the line. THE LIGHT OF SYRIA Wilson‘s Three hundred times bet. ter than sticky paper. FLY PADS with the air of a A man is known by the company he keeps, and if an employer knows that his employe is not leading the simple life or something akin to it, he will not likely trust him as he would those whose walk and conversation are ahoava «. terror to his employer and \\'irll'gm advanced. â€" If "Juvenis" thinks his plover will never know who his a ates are he is mistaken. This is thing that an employer must kno selfâ€"protection. even if he has t« ploy a detective to find it out, Tbereinugooddedoftruthll A man is known by the compar keeps, and if an employer knows There is nothing that hi« will notice so quickly as his ; The young man who is fond : er and sisters and home, â€" panions are the people of or the students at some eve strikes an employer â€" favor; young man whose associates men, gamblers and advent terror to his employer and w advanced. â€" If "Juvenis" thin plover will nevir Tenouar aatk . A young man wrote to i Chronicle asking what were sites to success for a young : city. The Chronicle says the gite is "earnestness," and the . he must keep good compan y on this head : " CV~CVO witn respect to trees and thunâ€" l«!«-r storms, yet Lnrdl'\' a summer day | passes without its record of somebod y hilled by lightning under a tree. ‘ If this does not demonstrate ignorance it does demonstrate the willingness of a ‘certain proportion of mankind to risk death rather than risk a wetting. It is a , form of the gambling spirit. He figures ! that the chances of that particular tree being struck are in the ratio of one to | several millions. He knows that the chances of getting wet and perhaps takâ€" ing cold if he does not seek shelter are in the reverse ratio. He takes the chances on the lightning.â€"Chicago Chronicie. 70 2Ve AZnemng.â€"Uhecago Chronicl« That may be true in some cases hundreds of people seck shelter i trees in pure thoughtlessness or i ance of the danger incurred. And y stand by the trumk of a tall t»« a storm is much the same as to he the ground conmection of a ta}! } ning rod. When a man seeks shelter bene tree during a thunder storm he is against the acumulated experion mankind with respect to trees and der storms, yet !urdly a summea TORONTO of five years. Drink among wom labor in factories and laundries fruitful cause of the early deat children. The drink bill of the « was growing less, and he looked fo, sened mortality as it decreased. | himself the sixteenth out of e children, nine of whom survived 100,000 lives The Ontario Immigration authori report that 12,000 men have been pla on Ontario farms this season and the demand for hired men has not 4 met, a thousand applications for ) being yet on file. The farmers, howe: do not care to pay the high wages manded in some instances, the figures ing kept up by the railways, which n help and are willing to pay for it. Murderer Thaw appears to hav« having a luxurious time of it, It i that his actual living expenses in York were $150 a day. This in a suite of rooms at $50 a day fo self and wife, board for a mai valet, $5 for tips for waiters, $2 supper at Sherry‘s, auto, $25, an rest wenm for i‘ncidmul expensos, he was studying economics then to Russia is in a bad plight. The com is in a ferment and even the militar distrusted. The Lower House of P1; ment is strongly revolutionist in leanings, and the constitutionalists unable to control it. In the eountry c are unharvested and the peasantry sullen and rebollious. There may be | days ahead. Archbishop Bruches, of Montrca exercising a potent influence in fav. temperance, and he is winning man the cause. In the thinty parishes diocese which he recently visited he j the work initiated by himself pro« ing, and he hopes for great results. efforts should receive hearty suppor _ Alfred Beit is dead. He is said to have been the richest man in the world. He was not proportionately famous for us ing his money for the good of his fel lows, although he did found a chair of Colonial History at Oxford. story is short, but there‘s in it for those who think. A nineâ€"yearâ€"old Orillia boy whiskey flask which his br hidden, drinks the contents an, CURRENT COMMENT. | wrote to the Chicage what were the requiâ€" ® a young man in that somates are «portsâ€" udverntums is a and laundries was : he early deaths _ 0j bill of the country of truth in this. the company he at lus â€" employer s his associations, fond of his mothâ€" me, whese comâ€" _ of their church e evening school favorably. â€" The iich his© brother contents and dies will never be tall tree in _ to become _ tall lightâ€" furst requiâ€" second that . It save know for s to emâ€" his + â€"Assor} & some ned t Ve H. Up} a les hteen 011 Ne finds 1¢ od at iW al an®#t 36