mm. - Bee, neat out Heads hem rat at Mon tite, uh asiol C " Ind. at. lbs. "9 h RE Ila " ad. om- 'to tho tho her [DID mo ', it. AID mt nd " at of 6 no important In to - the postpone- , ment or maul-cut of your Mrothal,,: oven " the M “at! Ia4y Ethan I Hge, to your oldest friend and your lute i sadism I should have been the first to 1 informed of this 1iffieultr," and Col. Hastings, in In excess o tagitation, that _ namely seemed justified, even by the! (a? importance of a broken marriage. l v . 7 - -....-- v. - .F.V.._.. "'"""HP. " deemed any “fumed husband to be the proper tM': to be first advised of n discovery t t no deeply affected my cir- cumshncea and his interests." “In Heaven'. name. Lady Etheridge, what in the nature of this discovery t" in- quired Colonel innings, moving about mtlmly, and scarcely able to rennin his agitation. The effect thin nnnouneelnent and up- on Colonel Hastings could scarcely be explained as astonishment, doubt or dis. appointment. It seemed nther the con- oternntion, terror and dismay of detect. ed guilt. He dropped into n choir, wiped the cold drop. of npiration trom his blanched face, med}: lever-.1 ineffectual :ttempu to speak, and then gasped orth: "It is simply tha I, called Linn Eth- eriAre, In) not the heir ot "9ttburne.'" "For Benet. nke tell me.' How did the existence of this other heir, come to yen: kgywledge '.". A A "By the wiles-ion ot the nurse, to whom we: eonfided the one of the in. fant heiress of Swinburne. and, who, the! was tempted to betray her trust, nnd palm off upon the witness baron her own child as his daughter." "What!" exclaimed Corona Hastings, in perplexity, but losing a. portion of the abject terror that. had lately and xmaeeounubly shaken him. “It is 3 sad story tor me to tell: " compels my tongue to the unkind task of disinheriting myself, and to the ttard. er and more cruel one of criminating my mother." Lady Etheridge commenced and nu rated the whole story as she had re ceived it from the nurse. Colonel Hastings, as he listened, grew raver and graver, and when she had eoneiuded, he paused a long time in deep thought, and then said: "Udy Etheridge, I know you well en. ough to be sure that if once you mp. {on the claims of another to be just, owever oppoael to your own interests those elaims ma ybe. oyu willdmlw hm those claims any be,you will at once mi- mit them. I must see this woman, and. u a magistrate, I must take her state- ment, officially, upon oath; and, " you "r-awkward an it may be-your mar- rioge with my non must be postponed." " a ' _ _ . " lyuu u: "V uuwvnu. uv â€VI ‘7‘ v-..- -- ..... m,'e'Le,'eieg'Ji',','r,diot't 1:33:32: 'now; indeed, it would break my heart, with ttentlo dignity. ' l and fut short even the few hours I have "Well, well. we will talk of that. at f to live. .D.? “,5" shrink from me now, â€In. future time. Meanwhile, we will my only child! pleaded the woman, m direct good Mrs Montgomery to n 3 mice of such deep sorrow that Lady plain to our friends, that, Iron: union Etheridge hem: down and tenderly In!" Been circumstances. the marriage is ne- ladihog’ Baying'. h I h . " cemrily put off, and we will go togieth- t Ul'",.: “will"; l I'," come " to Mrs. Elmer's cottage, where 1 will "te.y, Wt you ti t e “a, . h Iron-examine her." said the colonel rls- oh, thank you, Laural cried t. e bg and touching the bell. wretched woman, pressing her hand with A tootma answered the summons spasmodic haste. "And you forgive me, "Oesire Mrs. Montgomery to come l â€$30: mother.' Forgiveness is a pro- hither, and then order. the horses to be ' fane word to pass from child to parent." rt',',,',,)",. the $105: f'grrgsgiczpod etro,te,'tt. “vet I cannot rest without it, Laura." rou unme Mt y, n its "Then take it, with all my heart. " in?“ man bowe (land retired and " a you think that you have injured me, few moments the door opened and a tall take my forgiveness, as freely and a? dignified, elderly lady, attired in a black 1ti,rl"i,t2,'"plo'r""got"er,ttlr1u'1Tl'i'li', utin dress and white lace turban, enter ,you. which 1 would GiGiirb spare you, ed the, room. 'ir I could do so with justice to anoth- "Good-morning, Mn. Montgomery. We er. But be strong and patient; it uhall have ventured to request your presence be but short ,and when it is over 1 will here upon rather a sorrowful occasion. remain with you as long as you live, and We have just received intelligence that try to perform toward you all the dw " old and intimate friend of our lam- I ties of a daughtre." _ 1t.f?etttt Ptt dutrerr an be And in lull an hour utterwnrds Colonel he man bowe dand retired and In a h moments the door opened and . tall dignified, elderly lady, attired in a black nth: dress and white lace turban, emer- " tho room. "Good-morning, Mn. Montgomery. We have ventured to request your presence has upon rather a sorrowful occasion. War have just received intelligence that an old and intimate friend of our tam. ily is lying at the point of death. This necessitntes a temporary postponement of the marriage, as Lady E'thitre and myself must, immediately rapt to the deathbed of our friend. You wtll, there. fore, Mrs. Montgomery, be 3“ good as to take upon yourself the task of explaining to those friends who intend to honor our breakfast the sad reason why our fee- tivity is deferred,' 'said Colonel Hast- Irttt, .. . 1.-- "n-.M.‘h an. h any that Mrs. Montgcaary was thum1erstruelr nt this announcement would give the reader but q faint idea of its effeet upon her. She was strick- en dumb for " least two minutes; trot or- recovering her speech, she set her tongue It work. "to make last atone- ment for its first delay. Colonel Hast- hp, however. at once eat her short by chewing that Lady 1t1te. had not a moment to spare, as dean: w specter of persons, and would hr the mightiest on earth. A with the stately courtesy of t trim. he conducted his ward to of her dressing-room. as death was no re- and would not wait I: earth. And then, turtesy of the olden his ward to the door .Huting: and Lady Etheridge were rou- mg along in the clone carriage on their wag: to t e house of the hundguq. --- The lick womn by when Lady Eth- eridge had left her some hours before. She was attended by Rose bad a neigh- bot, who watched with her. - - A The eyes of the visitor: turned ftrst upon Ron I glance of inquiry to (-00 whether as yet she knew or ssuspeeted 'e, possible grent fortune in store for er. _ But no; that drooping form, pale tape. and those tearful eyes spoke of anything rather than of pleasure and unexpected triumph. - _ - . J A, Laura then advtunced to greet the maiden, who was about to respectfully courtesy to the harmless, who Immedl- ately presented her to Colonel Hastings. And it must be admitted tlnt the cun~ ning old courtier bowed to the possible future Lady Etheridge, of Swinburne. I few hours "of my life, Oh, Laura, Laura! (t.o you with such a mighty, unquench- ';to you wiht such B mighty, unquench- able thirst for your presence and your love; and when l have heard all the peo- l It', praise the goodness, and wisdom, and I ounty of Lady Etheridge, I have mid to myself: That is my daughter. No lhnuglzty. cold-blooded and selfish Ether. I idge ever was good, wise or bountiful. It I is because she is my daughter!’ and when l l have seen you passing through the ill- Huge in state and grandeur, and Joy, 1 , have dared to linger and gaze upon your Harm, lest I should rush out and eaten i you to my bosom. Do not be cold to me 'now; indeed, it would break my heart, (and cut short even the few hours I have tto live. Do not shrink from me now, 'my only child!" pleaded the woman, m in voice of such deep sorrow that Lady Ilithe-ridge bent down and tenderly kiss- l ed her, saying: - _ The; neigilbor aroG/made her opal. ance, and gave way to the distinguished visitors. 7 "Ah, you have returned, as you pro- mised! I knew you would. Laura! Laura'. take my hand, my child. For- get your past grandeur ,or regard 1t only as a brilliant dream, an duke my hand, my child. I will not ask it long. Are we alone:"' 773375;": took the place by the head of the bed, the sleeping woman awoke, and, seeing her, said: "No, mother; Rose is here, and one of your neighbors.' "Send them away." This short conversation was carried on in a very low voice unheard by any one else in the room. Laura arose and spoke to Rose and to the neighbor ,both of whom immedi- ately left the house. when she return- ed to the bedside of the sick woman, who again eagerly clasped and held her hand, saying: "Oh, Laura! Laura'. do not feel cold- ly toward me. Let me have the com- fort of my child's affection in the last "Oh, thank you, Laural" cried the wretched woman, pressing her hand with spasmodic haste. "And you forgive me, Laura?" "Give me the love of one, my child. I need it greatly. And now what " it you would have me to do, Laura?†"The statement that you made to me last night, to be of any avail to the true heiress of Swinburne. mint be put into writing, sworn to, signed, and duly witnessed in the presence of a magis- trate. Also, it is needful that you sub- mit to an examinaion by I phy- sician. who will duly testify that you ttre of sound mind when you execute the document.†. "I will do all that you wish me. Laura. Let the proper person be brought hither. The sooner the better." Laura beckoned Colonel Hantings,who had retired to the farther end of the room, out of hearing of this conversa- tion. When he came to the bedside, she pre- sented him to, the dyTng w_oman, aay_i_ng: "Here, mother, is" my late guaidiin. Colonel Hastings, who wishes to take Toâ€, depositiqnz" - ... _ . "You-certainly. I will be very thunk, ‘ul to you, sir, it you will send for a Colonel His-tings growled an inedible imply, for he we very much perplexed, ,snd dissatisfied; end went out, entered the cerringe and drove off to bring the ‘proper forties. _ In " i on hour he returned with them. l I will not wary my readers with the details of the form-I proceedings that 'oecupied the next two or three hours, (iii that connrmed the validity of the dying women’s 'statement. The whole .business was conducted in a manner " ionce legal and confidential. No farm was i omitted that could go to confirm the evi- ldence; yet, each member of the party "tood strictly pledged to the others to tkeel) the secret until proper proceedings ',' con d be taken upon it. Immedintely " ,ter the signing and witnessing of the Idocument, ell left the cottage, with the excepion of Colonel Hastings end laura, who remained by the beside of the pat- ient, who had sunk into a sleep of utter exhaustion. physician Ind a hwya, and uly one at. you my think proper to summon for the pnrpou of confining and tre.,', the validity of the tstatement that I " to make," aid Mrs. Elma: _ ... . "Well, Lady Ethaidge. Howe" this may eventually result, whoever may be dee ared the true heiress, of this you may rest assured that, ‘poeseeeion be ing nine points of the law,' it must in any case, be months, if not years, before you can be compelled to lay down your title, or give up your estate, or leave your home at the eostle." "Colonel Hastings, I do not believe that there is one candid person in the world who could witness what we have wit- nessed to-day and not feel convinced of the truth of my mother's statement, and the rights of Rose to the title and u- tates of Etheridge of Swinburne. I shell not wait to be just for the tardy per- mission of the law. I here and now solemnly resign in favor of the new claimant all right and title that I may be supposed to have to the barony and estates of Swinburne. This is my final resolve. Call me, therefore no longer Lady Etheridge, but, if you are kind, call me, as you did in my happy child- hood, Laura, for that name is in"inepet.'/ a. condition to judge what you should do. You are unnerved by this sudden shock. You have spent the night in watching. You need repose. Let me en. trcat you to return home retire to your ohamber and take a few hours' sleep. You will then be in a better condition to think and to act." uvvu, ulvllln, nu unuv us"..- .u ......_ J-- "But my dear Laura, this is taniti. cism. about fanaticism. You are now m "I thank you, Colonel Hastings; but my mind is clear enough and Wrong en- ough, even now, to know right from wrong." "Well. Laura, I perceive it is useless to combat your resolution at present, though I deem it a most injudicious one.' And so saying, Colonel Hastings rose to bid her good-bye. CHAPTER VII. When Rost- Elmer left her mother's cottngo. it must be remembarod that she had no knowledge or suspicion of the exalted fortunes in prospect for her. Her heart was filled with grief and des- pair-grief for her supposed motheru failing mind and body, and despair at the discovered falsehood and treachery of her lover. For him whom she had knowni only as William Love]. her pure affec-‘ tion, honor and trust had amounted to real faith and worship. With the heath. enish idolatry of a young warm heart. she had adored him as a god. And now to find this idol of her adoration a trai- tor of the deepest dye, who could now woo her under false pretenses and a- sumed name and who, even on his eve of marriage with Lady Etheridge, could coolly plot her own ruin, so wrung her heart with anguish and distracted her brain with wonder that her whole na- ture seemed beaten about between mad- ness and death. as a storm tossed ship between wind and wave. In this mood of mind tshe left the cot- tage and after parting with her neigh- bor at the door of the latter, she walk- ed listlessly down the narrow street, intending to seek the hills. She had pro- ceeded but a little way beyond the out. skirts of the town. and had sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree to rest for a while, when she heard a familiar foot- step approach and looking up, she saw Albert Hastings standing before her. She started up with the intention of hastening away, when he caught her hand and replaced her on her and seat, and smiling said: "What, my sweet Rose.' you broko your appointment with me last evening, and now, on seeing me approach you try to run away. How is that, Iweet Rose?†"When I made that appointment yel- terday morning, I thought that I was making it with my own betrothed lover, William Lovel, and not with the affian- ced husband of Lady Etheridge, Mr. Hastings," replied Rose, with more sev- erity upon hor young brow than any one would have suppoed her cpnble of showing. "Mr. Hastings! Lady Etheridge. Wtutt is it you mean, Rose? Some one has been islandering, me to you." "No, Mr. Hastings. Thank Heaven that no one on earth knows our acquaintance except your worthy friend and valet, Le. vere. Thank Heaven that none else in this world knows the extent, of your falsehood and my folly!†"Rose, what in Heaven's name, is the meaning of this. It seems to me. that to- day I have fallen into a train of strange adventures." "Not so strange either, as those you had marked out for yourself when you purposed in the same day to marry a peeres and ruin a peasant. Oh. against whien of the two did you meditate the blackest treachery. Against the unloved lady whom you were about to lead to the altar, or the ill-loVed cottager, whom you were alluring to destruction. Good Heaven. what blackness of wickedness! Stand out of my 'rv, air, and let me pass. Your presence darkens the very sunshine to me'." exclaimed the maiden, with a horror so real that it could not have been concealed. - 7 inkliogéi’ {have twice asked you what is" the meaning of this attack. I have . right: to _tttnswer/' __ . "You shall have it, Mr. Hastings. But first, perhaps, you will explain to me how it is, that on this, your wedding day and hour, you are hem question: ing me, instead of being at the chunk with Lady Etheridge." - - He saw by her manner and her expro- aion that she knew too much for hm to attempt to carry on the decepton. He felt no other course was possible for him but to tell the truth and defend his conduct as bent he might. He said; - "iii-Gi/ii' irti.w/tivai- mary months it fore I knew you and 1oye, partly to rinse, a rtly to please the Indy who conic-red uron me the honor of her pre- femnoe,,I contracted nylon to Lem Etheridge, without e particle of love on my aide entering into the "fair. After- ward I now L',"'; Rose of the world, and loved you, t e first nnd only woman I eva- did love, the last and only women I ever dull love. I could not forgo the! plenum of seeking your dear presence, ind beaeeehng your love. If I approachw ed you under In "sumed name it was B) lover’s strutegem and no such, you will forgive me. If I sought to make you mine upon unequal terms it was . low er’s extravagance, and. as such, you may pardon it. I love you, Rose, with I whole undivided heart. In proof of which, I hove this day done what I should have done months ego. I have broken with Lady Etheridge and I have come hither to throw myself upon your mercy, to beg pardon for all the wrong done or med- tated Igunst you, to lay my heart, hand and fortune at your beloved feet, and to beg you to be my wife. Rose. I am at your feet. Will you forgive met Will you necept my hand, and be my beloved wifet" he snqoplieated, sinking upon one knee and tuking her ham!- " -iiiie/ Gaiehed"it from him and shrunk swag, ergclaimjngg --- - . “a m1"? tUTiiTiRien with Lady Ether- idgo! Double tmitor! False to me! False to her! Who, shall trust you? “Rose! Rose! I do not main these bitter reprceohes from .vou--oot from rm.', To you, at least, I have been hue!†- "But false to her! False to that noble ttlr. who gave you all also possessed, a. , above all. her whole heart’s rich love! Ah, do you think, air, that I ad- mire treachery any more. because an- other is to suffer by it rather than my- self? Shall I thank you, because you ham: turned traitor to Lady Etheridge, rather than to met Nor. no! no! no! a thousand times no! I spum the faith- leag heart! Go! leave me, Mr. Hast- ings! Your presence infects the very air I breather." "Rose! Rose! Why this fierce indig- nmtion against one who adores gout Why do on continue to strike one who loves you too tenderly to retort? If for a time 1 vaoillatod between the lady who had m promise and the maiden who possessed my heart: if, final, I broke with the lady and decided for the mai. den, was that so great a orimet It so, you, at least, Rose, who profit by it, should not reproach me with it," said Albert Hastings, bitterly. "I profit by your treachery! I pick up your broken faith and wear it as a trophy! Never'. Know me better, Mr. Hastings!" "Rose, you are very eruel." "Listen to me once more. and for the last time. and you will understand why you and I must speak no more on earth. Yestonlury afternoon you met me, breathing vows of sincere, undivided, um dying lover." "Trtey were'. Well. so I believed them to be, and so I, hoping in a fool's pm- due, left you. Well. when I reached home, my mother, very unexpectedly on my part, despatched me to the castle to request Lady Etheeidtte to come to see her. On reaching the cautxle I was shown to the libralry, where 1 found the lady sitting with documents before her, and with her noble face beaming with happi- ness and bonoditstioms, as though Abe were anticipating the arrival of some- one upon whom she was about to be. l now some new token of her love-.erome _ unemnpled good. In a word. Mr. Hat- ings, this noble and generous lady was expecting her betrothed husband, upon whom she was about to bestow in ad- vance her whole vast landed estate. I had scarcely time to deliver my message and to gain her consent to come to my mother, when your name was announc- ed. The dear lady, who had nothing to conceal. did not send me from the room, but bade me retire to the bay-window l sent. and amuse myself with some pints until she should be at liberty to go with me. I obeyed her, and in another mo- ment your name. your true name, and not the false one by which I had known you, was announced, and you entered the room. I heard your voice, and, re- cognizing it, started and turned around to assure myself that my ears had not deceived me. No, there you stood, breathing to her the same rows of sin. cere, undying love. that you had just three hours before breathed to me! And there she atom]. nohle lady'. with all her loyal soul beaming from her fine face, believing your words that fell from your false tongue, just as lbelieved you three hours before, A ‘_ .. "‘Wmich were true, Rose; as true no heaven!†A horse who has always been made to obey quickly, will respond to commands from anyone, whereas the creature who has been petted and talked to accords, unless hungry, scant attention to any- one. We talk to horses altogether too much, and it is a silly and dangerous custom. "Whoa!" should mean but one thing, and, slip, slide or fall, should meet with instant obedience. Not another word should ever be used, beyond por sibly the order to "stand over" in the stall (slalom-h even that is best unsaid), ment, the "eliek" of the tongue for in- creased. speed. The animal's attention is kept if you are tsilent-he does not know "mat you will do next, and as he distrusts and merely tolerates you, even 3ruggint- “I hear you are having your daughter’s voice cultivated.†Bug- irins-"Yet. I'm afraid it can't be cured, so I am doing the next beet thing." an he fears you, his anxiety is always to find out what you wish done, or what move you will next make.-F. M. Ware ln The Mental Limitations of the Horse, in the Outing Magazine for October. Don't Talk to Your Rene So Much. my father who desired the Ingr- a, be continued.) DEWED ALL 21an FOR ttttVER YEARS, AND DOCTORS SAID, i _ - "NO can." SKIN COVERED trout: Challenge: All Players and Has Defeated Even Pillsbury. Can you play checkers? There is a blind man in Philadelphia who can beat you, no matter how well you play. He has defeated Pillsbury, Matthew Priest, and half a dozen other professionals despite the fact that he can not see ms much as a ray of light and has to follow the game in his wand with the asistancc of his finger tips. John Thompson is the blind chum» pion's name. He lives at 251 North ‘Wurnock street, where many of the most scientific checker players in the iUuited States have called on him and met their Waterloo. Vang“. m-Buk cures cutl, burns. brakes, gulch. ammo. soup mom, plmplas. poisoned wound]. children's rushes, ulcerl. bolls, ub- aceuoo. Itch, lore buck, tottering and au- ohu-xlnz wounds. etc. UM " an embrocluon It cures rheumausm, qeitttlett and cold on the chest. All drugglsta and stores sell Zun- Buk at 500 per box, or cannon. trom the Zuni-But C... Toronto, tor price. 5 boxes tor 82.50. Thompson has a crude little board that was made especially for him, the aquarea being sunk in the wood. One set of men is square to match the holes and has a little groove on one side. " hen the men have only a single value the†grooves are turned downward, but when they reach the king row the grooves are turned upward. The other set of men are the usual round checkers and with his delicate touch Thompson can distinguish be. tween them as readily as anyone who has the full use of his eyes. Forty-nix years ago Thompson's vision left him. He is totaly, absolutely blind. It was about fifteen years ago that he determined to learn to play checks and had his little board made. HThe game fascinated him and he has been play- ing steadily ever since, part of the time 1 professionally. _ "id; aeveril years he has been a. regu- , hr future " the, Simhm 313d Archl Geilraiseurn and he will play there gain this year. He meets all comers Ind rarely loaf: a PH". "Oh, it's a beautiful game,†he slid, rapturously to a visitor who called st his house. "There's no end to it. Pills" bury himself Admitted to me that there is more in it than there is in chess, and that's a good deal for Pillsbury to any, you know.. Poor Pillsbury' He was a good opponent, the kind of opponent that a man likes to meet. "Thnt's one reason I alwnya bad I kindly feeling toward Edgar Allen Poe. He was a friend of checkers. or draught: u be called them. He said that check- ers Wu undoubtedly the moat scienti- tie game on ertly". He tnlked about the game as if it were a. masterpiece of art or music and with unerring accuracy he worked out the problems. r "I could play checkers forever," he ex- cinimed enthusiastically. "It is a won- derful gnmv. People don't understand it. They think it’s a shallow game, but it’s deep - deep.-Phiiadelphia North American. Luge Number: Emphyed in Spectacullr Shows. The children’s dramatic booking Mfiee is a busy place just now, for rehearsals are in progress for a spectacular pro- duction of one of Shakespeare's plays which will employ 100 children. This Ls probably the largest munbar of children ever used in one play, and is one of many signs that the public likes to we children on the stage. V:ry few of them are chiHron of ac. tom and actresses who are playing, al- though a few belong to players who for one reason or another have left my Inge. Most of them are the children of very poor people who mlly need the money. Among the 100 children for the Shake- speare play are five from one family, in which the father is dead. Their salaries combined will keep the family in comfort, sad the work is not hard. It " my “on that I play k_e_epn the children on Ben Hur, some ten years ago. with fin? children, an! The Sorrows of Satan, with fifty or My, were a.bout the first play» to employ extra children in Urge numbers. Humpty Dumpty had eighty. Beauty and the Beast fifty, and The White Cat seventy-five. With the Shandy increase has come an agency devoted to the booking of chil- dren a-lone . It is fun by a woman. a. kind faced, motherly woman, who has children of her own and looks after her charges carefully. --- - - .. rm --., -L:LI-,._ A; “A GriiiairiLt" act: Thirs are usually at home 3d in bed before the play is over; and there in practically no labor in the â€gunman "TEL-Rm ehildren never tnvd when . big production M this kind goo- ou tho BLIND MAN CHECKER ADEPT. x-Bnk Eu Completely Cured. CRILDREN ON STAGE. 1hliftt SORES. RIO ARCHIVES TORONTO um children in and: city. is at“ iGTiirtTiiUiur9t1ittetlyAe than with: she mu and irteite a. a i7iirtriUrGir-t-ttyrtyie '.iiiiij?tuy.L.l,tte,gt',higeug: formulae outside of school hour! out injury, and who and the money. She tawny! gen five or nix the. u aiGsfLriu"iesoa,ae1tthefr,t,1t: 1mm: gilt: them out. In New York "su-als-err-tardent'?- GGsfLiu'ieu,aedtthefrt,e.t: lac-ml sitts them out. In Now York she Wine: (on to when: m- tm'nmenu. school exercises and tho “to, lookin for good mum , A mm, - - m†A hundred extra ohildm in I m is about A. pretty 1 sight to an be up gined, for they are ulnyo duo-en foe their grace and beauty. They we: can to get their bend: turned, nor to develop stage fever. In fact, they an the I. hear-h u the English are uid to uh their pleasures. The reentry discipline is nutmally irksome to children, and they must keep still, both In to Wu and feet. (mildren are far more euy to can than adult extras. They are more pa. able, far less self-conscious. The Inn. sger’a only object is to get them My to be themselvea on the stage, when they are sure to make u hit. Very - at t1adestroiio-uupoothe my ... . . ira children receive ‘5 I week. When they are apeble of aiding extra paruth%ret.82sora8P_t Week or more. Children in - have incl-cued as much u in the chorus in recent yuan, and than cunning intent. in Peter Pm, Mm. Wigs! of the t1.htmg. Patch, The Prince Chap, and other production are fresh in the public mind. Five of the children in the Cabbage Patch were from one family end ell had been extra. Tho mother of one o! the Cabbage Patch children was employed to travel with the production {or the purpose of curing for the children. The youngsters finished the canon healthy and? happy, 13nd without a day's illnau. The five children in Peter Pun had none of them been eats-a. All atartari Prince Chop were combat! for their put; with parts. The two littlb girls in The by the childreeN booking mm. 'It is I curious thing that 3 child - tor almost always does well. There are no sticks among them. But the charm ing children of the sage are seldom heard of atterwhrd. The exquisite nu- uralneam which make: them delightful all disappears as they lure the realm ot childhood, and them have to learn all over again how to e u grown-up new. --New York Sun. Landward: rise the lofty beetling cliffs towering ttpwtmis to the nun of the skies; here and there cleft in twain u by the hand of some titanic giant, the I great fissure clothed in verdure and guy with wild flowers; while scattered about lupOn the shore nre great frngrnents of Irock. detached perhaps ml ego from the cliff by Dome mnvullion of untun; many of them surrounded by lovely marine poliI. their sides clothed with feathery coraline and graceful waving fronds of many hued tutpe, while in. numenhle tiny fish and immature mn- taeen dart hither and thither. or lurk in dark reel-mes ready to pounce upon in Binary prey. I And there, -trrds, is the great oeeot, its surhce glittering like diamondl in the glorious Bun, 1nd flerked here and there with the white nil: of some gul- lant ship. or with the russet brown aid ,lens graceful form of a number of fish. line bontl returning from nn Ill nighths {quest of the harvest of the we. . I w.--“ -- ---- ___ i And when the pedestrisn has left far ibehind the haunts of man, and han in-nched . wild part of the count where !the foot of men source ever treads. he ! finds that the sea birds resent his intru- ith? into their realms, Ind circle round (hip, angrily uttering their discordant lcrica and fiercely threatoning In attack. IBut let him beware lest the exhilaration of the walk cause him to stray too far from the shore. for when the tide turns it advances along that flat, hard sand like a windswept mill race. and then he must flee for his life. or the advancing water will inevitably overwhelm them. " (By I. Banker.) How exhilarating Ind inspiriting to those who appreciate the glories and too beauties of nature is a long walk along the bard dry sand of the seaohore in the early prime of I. bright summer morning. A spirit of glodneu Ind re- ioieing pervades all nature ;the shore birds -- sea-lurks, rock pipits, dotterel, and many another feathered beauty - are gamboling and frolicking, sud flit- ting from rock to rock and from pool to pool in the exuberance of their joy; a. floek of graceful terns is skimming over the breaking waves. so swiftly that they pus like 3 flash of light; and circling and testifying their glsdneu in a chorus of somewhat shrill snd discord- ant cries. And so in like manner smutrentrarteed with the Measures and with the gnietieo of this life, forget that they we wander. ing far away from the thoro- of eternal safety. And then when the rushing waters of that dark stream over which all must pass come suddenly upon them, they realize, perhaps, alas! too late,thn.t all is blackness and darkness. But then are others who far not that drum: for He who died that they might live etern- ally, and Whom they have loved and obeyed, will safely pilot them over ita dark waters right on to the bright In! joyous shores of the glorylnnd. God's love and pews be with ne'er this ooh 1ee"Y Mr - .77., .--- I. a... " freshness o'er thy thoughtful um moaning. In lts glut auxin-m. Benny to beauty. gme to (nee! Pair nature's book together and, The old wood-paths that ha" our trer _ . _A--..- -..__ ...1A Wham throw In kiss to thee i or. om quThftt" tt flit. the The hills we cltm‘bod. the river not By "ttttttt along tta deer rarine- All keep my memory new and green u. u- ' _ lclvuu- --.r- .-. ---- The gems: haven: will head iron .0. What would. dear bun. m burden bet iG-kAdinik of our common God'. tove-unctFq. but. ad tr The Punch“: whlte-ahtnlnx through His ---ttse all ot Harmon's Du! If. then, . ttr"nt Vida-fog}?! The slam): of 1 Men reo6- What can I - Linn my!!! The "ieef,tiici.rtug:ty t',,T uni} -' 'iieii,tt,ie [and 00.60"?“ "W‘Y- Writ-'0' don my “I“. ttttdet the “an! With ouch a pnysr, on glass untilâ€. ON THE SILVERY STRAND. ll-n Iva - "_-__,v _ " :ood-pama that knew our tread maple mm- overt-d--. cS'iSIm‘Ehwm mom. anon: the woodland bloom. 'air'."CtrGliiii'Cor tir" mm BENEDICTION. city cgsgmena can. E333 JEROVAI-m When God ... tesndintt the In.“ to the promised had All-lei: opp“! their prom-ea. but was utterly dimm- fitod under the lower-hip of Jock“. A. altar called Jehovnh-Niui (the lated ie my banner) was ruined w! the decree ad God made known. God will have m with Amulek from generation to gentl- tion, till his remembrance in blond out from under henna. Exodus xvii. 8-10. Amulek in " of the {lechly or Adam nature, which enmity to God. Rom. viii. 7, vii. "-26. .loehun in type cl Christ, to whom God In: given “and†over all P.mrh that Be any input - nnl life. John xvii. 2, Rom. viii. ld. What the Christ life in imputed the strife between it and the “ably or Adam-life begins. Victory in natured. Rom. viii. 38-9; the relult, 29, I. John " a; the way to victory. Rom. mil. ". In this sevority to the sinful mum ho- hold the goodnm of God to the lilac. War with this Amulelt till he in biottad out. Wherefore, any: Poul. I holed you surrender to God. thnt Be any " thin for and in you. Rom. xii. l-2. "De npair of no man," say. our Lord. Ink. vi. M. People submit to doctors, their fellow natures, but leer to aubmit to ’their Creator. Why? Because Soul - blinded them to God's loving John xii, 40. See this offer of om lie any one who will only admit Him. Rev. iii. 20. Fling out the standard of the Lord From pole to fartheat pole, That Christ may reap the full reward Por travail of His aoul; He did the human race redeem With “is most precious blood, ’Rolled bark to Adam judgment'a atten- " ark rolled Jordan’s flood. Fling out God’s lit-mind, fling it with, Bid every soul to lee That when the Christ on Calvary died 'Two, for our victory; As the plain serpent lifted high Did life and healing give, Sn Christ in death made sin to die-- Behold, believe, and live. Fling out God's sundu'd of free grace To every 'sinful soul. That all GodU offer may embrm~ Christ Jesus maketh whole; Fling out the standard far afield Above a sin-bound world-- Til'. the lust soul to Christ Illa“ yield That flag will not be furled. All glory to the Putin-r be, Who Bent "in only Son To win our fight on (hlury, 'Twn (luau God’s will was done: Uplifted he the tiaviouru name By ewcrv i'hrmtian'a tongue, Tilt Irv all hearts. with love “lilac, Chric', glory shall be lung. . Jetuittttt iii. HM), Rom. v. tru THE EINSTRELSY " THE WINDS. I. Cor. u How varied and diverse etc the hu- monioun melodies of the winds, magi“ from the whispered gentle sigh ot the dying zephyr, to the tending blaeta ad resonant booming of the hurricane. For there in musk even in the storm; there is a rolling melody in the swelling peel. Phett of the fiereest tempeute, even in the convulued spasms of the Wilde-t or- .mnismu of the elements. gallium of the elements. Tin in widow-am, as the sun in net- ting behind a dense indigo-lined bank od cloud on the horizon, gliding its edge. with a lustrous golden lining, it. bril- Guey coutrttsttutt sharply with the heavy and loud, threatening Machine-I of the cloud. The sea is suddenly Innk- ed into a turmoil of white frothy vhf. of foam as the gale with acme a no- ment's warning 'sweep. over the gently heaving wavelets, at first in tuneful, rhythmical measures like the wit music of the swirling river, but, u it gathers force, sweeping the chords in evor aug- menting agitation; its cadence now rin- ing, now falling, until at length it swan. into I amorous, reverberating roullh of nature'. fury. And then, when the west-i-aa-i-irate;) 's, iiiiiijji,tii,i' iiijii"ijjliii,;,) rage of the tempest has subsided, the fitful gale makes melody midst the Sq- ging of the ship All on an eolinn harp, end strikes 1 manning. burial dime u of lamentatlon or of mourning. And how tuneful, too, is the muck od the winds when a fresh and irregular breeze in playing amidst the tres a; t" forest; now, as a stronger gust pull fitfully through the yielding boughe, raising e pen of wild harmony; or whispered fugue or delighting the our of Me observant lover of nature qrith its quavering strain. And in other modes too "a nature'- anthems and varied symphonies [ruled forth b F the “indn, midst the ravine. and Ull' gorges 1nd chums of the moan. taims, where the over varying current. of air keep rrvel amidst those rugged defiles, now with taint Ind tremuluuo breath as though a charm of earth. fairies were gumbollin: and diuporting themseh'n: or now orhoed forth in . dinpuon of fury and violence; or on the we: more when tno munio of the wnvos unites in melodious rhythm; at in many another of nature's wide do, maim. But mt to tttl in " given to run" But mt lo tttl in " the otrsutien either nf m or. still stranger. of bee od adwrnmonts and up! “kn mum" many. (on the wottdrovs love of I pivFe Hi1 F'rtn to "ml run. 'n new!†that any d 'f they “in. “in“! th, van. But than who it G.. t'-tr .-"edreh vnm with \um-lar and an: former lulindnuq and folk {A few more you" and our an Britt no Mrmrer be charmed by the nqr6et ton. of “a. [cum and the pom-am. The mount mm of violem molt la ttavimr I In“ d ettert on the placing power! of (to sad It In menus that our m - be this to mttor the opera at V Ronda! owing to “-7.101 d d Knlrkn-The mu Vb luv-HAN! chat-tn]. Rhett-Haw I†00 The Vanishing Hum: Voice p, lo all in it given to reatim a either cf ttature's psi-Indy angel. of her many and vari- 'nts and splendon. And “I r mam“. too. Gil to rulin- n's love of (be AhreMity in Fon to “mks: oxqtHtiost for v. trat nny ("rim of - my. l. 'r.,tirtt't the glorie- of hea. tlmm- “ho happily do no, " 'MeoG mm“ "'.-. an M10. in and nmnvmulmt " their Effect of 18-19-21. 's"