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external, cure treatment. hr. _Beilman e beans kept whole by perfect baking heir full Stremast. O N A BLE EFUSED. ow Filling ble Icing ea to son ENTS _ AND â€" smoxke 25 rtoronto : delicious sances ve no equal, _ when OR SaALE. mmz ®ty Colborne ANEOUS$. NYENTION3 _ PIGEON & Davig lor infs. 24(0200 res DipMtn@rta ERS â€" irty mehes to g six inches to l1 sell entire or and, for )-u.' TPO606. _ Watar BUYr or ?,;..‘ t Dairy F4 lf:-bton. or 9 ( belting, pulleys, rctory for sale. ) by 42, complets » a’y 'beel. bearâ€" good condition. _inch to three Shipbuilders, n & Ssons, West, Toronto the For 1€ mi q ht y It is â€" B Pork ; hBEam ing sand on rest and to labor Gque* Co.. INC ; is indeed <f work t ild get it® leaning re LUMP3, h $t., I think Sale 13 o hell be a!l right after a galop." They ercused the road at a trot, which wese an uneven one on Adonis‘s part, and got on tie moor. Maude, stil in â€" high mprrt, still buoyed up by her feeling of v!xum;";. ,h”hl:‘; (;)n\‘-muuu.'yi. tdliilll ND‘ woare 0 e ndon nows, anning . OW whe‘s .!:‘:)nrog T.'m-; ::o‘v‘i‘d:“. a house in London, Staffor take his pro place in the world; they -ax“ & into the lwigh position which '1 his by righ, as wr_ o"Xhe realm. ~ ford wese sea: listening.. A question taftord lo« He was cham 1m® fe A Fooli sh Young M an; o your ke place rainct him and touched h r up, and noticed, with hat Adonis seemed réstâ€" se, and that he ehivered > (e‘t Maude on his back. atter with him?" he eaid. y._ Does the saddie fit?" ; Pottinger, with a halflâ€"| : Maude, followed by the | sion of the trained QO!‘I speak out. some sometimes," said can manage him quite ind Pottinger etanding uched his hat and grow ght of his master. 5 r!_ Glad to cee you! i he was genuinely glad. well, and the horse is © put the aideeaddle on ae he went wp and patâ€" tafford, "never mind. I iter, as you have the » like Adoni‘s, Maude?" plied. "Though I‘m not s me," she added, woth he said in a low voice your father. Our mar place as soon aa you vou to fix the date He PER XLH h 1 at the door ed Stafford; ‘"he )# but he is highly bred Or, the Belie of the Season. a ride m h ht vesterday, even we should be riding d," she said. â€" "How iould have you back her »o tightly, mise." warning; and ahe The rain had ceas issed away. asd in ate d and mast rocm, and, »id, paced had gone me to her! id â€" jealousy ick," he said. z one of my wifely my â€" husband waitâ€" ny plans, Stafford?" er was speaking of ught of writing to muot be no reservo that you have come aite frankly. My faâ€" hat our marmage onee. He has withâ€" ng. Pottinger mur s, her swelled u will . glad ete wh m in U is hat again. oner‘s been riding ow that I ought to «n do so in a minâ€" rd 2 h horse curiously. and throwing up agitated manne? t seen him dis slight was the 1 b‘m. With an e :aze, the fierce ed to burst forth ind accucations; wo ohe turned to nd smmi‘ing. _ ___ to go over the z you something room. or here. if m, and, when ahe . paced up and d gone to that to her! She was jealousy, which ear because she m within her boâ€" ok of here must w of her rival. ere married, she till she was eafe. uickly and went inding where she entered the room time to turn to aggard and harâ€" do d4â€"and you will ? It is hard for but â€"but you will ) do so, and ho uld not have let 1 see, 1 had been re that you askâ€" the pla d ave you back vn‘ Don‘t all s is dying for btimgg." . se out," he said. le. â€" ‘Perhaps plied, feeling him to speak he of the interâ€" i‘ch had been ehe murmur. casteth . out t I! 1 only| Her lips curled scornfully at his aeâ€" irly that if| sumption of indifference. to be found| _ "I bhave seen her and met her," she said, difference to| ‘but I have not been introduced to hetr. l let us overtake her, and you can introâ€" and solf.re.| duce me. I should like to krow her." s head ~that He looked straight before him, his face in his eyee.| grave and sot. acked _ Dre "Is it worth while?" he caid in a low : me." She ride actces auzhed dman ne éeurprice. mean? Did and gelfâ€"reâ€" head ~that in his eyee. acked, pre ly at home! Herondale ually, an ked, with a afford ? w you not rid he her d face ed and n her €a ind he «ht x‘,.\’ mm her ears for Bany & MS aftemwards, rose above the clatter o’l Adonia‘s hools, and before the ery Rad died away horse and rider had fallen with awful force into and acrecs the hole. Then eame a dead cilence, broken only by the ecund cf the horse‘s iron choes as he kicked wild‘y ‘1':1?; pr::ed in ndv:din atâ€" tempt to rise. e up, an ngin herself to the ground, tried to M the otruggiing aniwal. But, indeed, it was horror and not fear that sttuck her motioniees for a moment; for horse and t‘lu.d‘,'-;tw‘lge:'hl r‘ellnl ‘form ner‘s was e:ained with blood, battered bY the madly kicking animal, now in ‘te reached it, and keop 8 it until whe could succe ing it away from that ciop it by throwing it. tate for a moment. Jt may be said in all moment ehe forgot that life «he was going to . Falconer; she did not eaid "Not now," he ea‘d, huskily. "I have comothing to tell you, Maude; something you ought t» know beforeâ€"before you make Miss Heron‘s acquaintance." Sho turned io him with a low laugh. "Do you think I don‘t Iinow?" she said, between her teeth. "I have knownâ€" all along! 1 read the letter you wrote to her â€"I got itâ€"stole it, if you likeâ€"from Poiâ€" tinger. I have known all alongâ€"do you not think I have been very patient, very diccreet? Even now I bear no malice. I «an forget the past, forget and forgive. Why should I not, sceing that I am acsut «d of your love and good faith? You will see how completely I forget, how little imâ€" portance I attach to your fancy for the girl; a fancy which 1 am sure you have quite ouigrowu. Oh, I can trust you! We wil join Micea Heron by all meane." His face was cark and heavy. "Do not, Maude, until you‘ve heard aW," he began, but with a ecorn{ul laugh that yet had comething dowbting and deâ€" epcrate in it, she sent Adon‘s on. He sprang forward nervous‘y and shovering under a siroke from her whip, and awiftâ€" ly leasened the distance beiween him and Kupe:t, who heard his approach be‘ore | Ida did, and who ne‘ghed a welcome. Ida turned and eaw who wa« following her, evx Stafford just bebind, and guthering her reins together she rode Ruport, quickâ€" ly to the top of the hill. f "M‘os Heron!" cried Maude, in a vouce of covert incolence, but almost open, t â€" wmh. "Miss Heron, etop, please!" i1 did stop for a moment, then, teel-l ing that it was impoecible for her to meet | them, that day, at any rate, she let Ru-| pert go again. By this time Stafford had | almost gained Maude‘s side. His face was dark with anger, his teeth clenched tightâ€" ly. He knew tbhat Maude intended . to f#runt her poséeesion of him before Ida. In a low but perfectly distirat voice, he She lc her face "Why "I« she was haunting him, a question which he cou‘d not thrust from him: he was going to marry Maude Falconer, going to take the bard and stony road of duty which Ida, in her notle way, had zc-ilfied out to him. Ought he not to tel! Maude about Ida and h.s brokea engagement to her; would it not be better for both of them, for all of them, if he were to do so? He would have to tell her that he could not live at the Villa; she would want to know the reason; would it not be better to tell her? He raised his bead to begin; when eudâ€" denly he saw, going up the hill in front oi them, a horse and horeawoman. She wae wolking up clowly, and, lonf before her figure «tood out againet the clear eky, he sow thai it wee Ida. It is scarcely an exaggecstion to say that his heart stood wtMl. That she chould have appeared beâ€" fore him in his e:ght, as such a moment, while he was riding beslle his future wife ing t them port a lmo: "Is it worth while?" he caid in a low voice. "Some cther timeâ€"â€"" "Why not row?" ahe asked. ‘"We can catch her quite easily." _ _ _ t hls future wifeâ€"flled hm with bittewâ€" ness. His face muet have paled, or Maude must have seen him start, for she looked at him and then turned her head and looked in the direction in which his eyes were fixed. She recognized Ida intantly; the eclor rushed to her frce; her hand tightened on her rein epaemodicaily; for a moment che felt inclined to turn aeide, to wde away, escape from the girl ahe hated and lcathed. And then she was moved by another impulse; the demon of jealovay whispercd: "Th‘s is the moment ol your trinmph; why not enjoy it to the full; why not let her feel the bitterness of dofect? ‘There is your rival! Let her see wouh her own eycs your triumph and your happiness." The temptation was too great for her, and she yielded to it. "Who is that riding up the hill?" she waid, controlling her voice admirably. "It The moment had c« her. "Ye, i he could Her l t hon, is it not?‘ ©," he said, ze impassively as like an arrow from ew near the fAying o whin to her loft ne for him to tell An English recruit wa« stopped in the street recently by an officer for failing to salute. The young fellow confessed his ignorance of the regâ€" ulations (having only just enlisted), and received an impromptu lesson. The dialogue concluded the recmuit saluted correctly. “BLthe way," said the officer, "to what company do you belong?‘" ‘‘Please, sir, to the Wigan Coal and Iron: ‘Comâ€" vbany.‘"" was the reply. I The following advice is not new, but it deserves to be repeated aad borne constantly in mind :â€"â€"Resist the first inclination to stoop. Brace ap whenever the shoulders. settle in the least. To place oneself sideâ€" wise before a mirror and allow the back to curve forward, then gradâ€" vally to straighten it will convinece anyone that, with every inch that is raised, ten years seem to be taken from the apparent age.‘" Women adopt many and varied methods of holding on to a youthful figure, but this is by far the best, for it inâ€" volves no deception or artificiality. Some people are quite as attractive in old age as they were in their youth, but it is not those who ‘"let themselves go‘‘ and sink into an apâ€" pearance of having lost their inâ€" terest in life. Fight on ! Fight on ! To the finish. While our lifeblood flows within, Till we‘ve crushed and conquered Caesar, And we‘ve cleansed his bloodâ€"ful sin ; Till freedom‘s cause has triumphed, Till men slay men no more, Till the sword is smashed forever, And the nations cease to war. â€"Stanley C. S. Kerr. Fight on to the end and conquer ! And run thy course to the last, Is the cry of all thy peoples ; Is the prayer of those who‘ve passed. Purge out the pride of this Caesar ! Humble him down to the dust ! Strike out his sword from its scabâ€" bard ! Leave it to mould and rust! For the life of thy love and honor ; For thy Empire‘s snowâ€"white name ; For thy kith and,kin who have perâ€" ished f In the war ‘gainst gruesome gain : Let thy cannon rcar with anguish, Let thy armies strive and strain, Till the Prussian breed is broken And his race hath ceased to reign. ing.beide him, Ida, calm now, but trombâ€" m.'né-d Maude‘s head on her knee W%:d the blood from the beautifal face. lovelinets was not marred, there was no bruise nor cut vpon it, the blood having flown from a wound juct beâ€" hind the temple. Ptafford ran to the brook for eome waâ€" ter and tried to foree a few drops through the clenched teeth, while Ida bailied the white brow. Buddenly a treâ€" mor ran through bim, and he put his hand over Maude‘s heant. It was quite v&l; he bent his cheeks to her lips; no breath met them. For a moment or two he cou‘d not speask, though he stayed Ida‘s min‘stering hand, and looking up at her, eaid: "It is of no vee. She is dead!" (To be continued.) To England,. Oh! mightiest mother of nations, Thy peoples hear thy call. Strike with thy sword and vanquish Thy foe that‘s the foe of all ! The folowing poem was written by a young offfcerâ€"Lieut. Stanley C. 8. Kerr, of the 10th Royal Grenâ€" ediers company, 20th Battalion, a son of Senator J. K. Kerr. It is entitled ‘‘To England." From the swellen lips of the dying. Parched with a fevered thirst ; Steady thy hand for the struggle! Hark to thy peoples‘ strain ! That the lives which are lost in the battle For the grave can gain no victory, The sting of death must cease ; For the lives that are lost for freeâ€" Have passed, but not in vain T Are gained for a blessed peace. "To Fight Till Men Slay Men No More" Lieut, Starley C. 8. Kerr. His First Company. Brace up. Don‘t buy a chicken if the eyes are not bright. When the eyes are dull and sunken, you can be sure that the fowl has been killed some tame. + To keep curtains from blowing out the windows, conceal thin iron washers in the hems and corners. It will make the curtains hang evenly and without constant ‘stirâ€" ring in a breeze. â€" |â€" _ When baking, the scissors are uséful ; a snip and the biscuit dough is quickly apportioned ; a quick cut and the drop.cooky falls into place on the baking tin. The velery and cheese sandwiches are delicious. A little mayonnaise is mixed in with the cheese, which is finely grated, the celery being put through the mincing machine. Colored ‘handkerchiefis should be soaked in cold water for a short time before they are washed. This will prevent the colors from runâ€" ning or fading. Faded silks may be restored in color by immersing them in soapâ€" suds to which a little pearlash has been added. _ Cereals will not become pasty in cooking if they are stirred with a plated fork instead of a spoon. _ _ Nail stains may be removed from wood by scrubbing with a solution of oxalic acid, half a pint of acid to a quart of boiling water. _ To soften brown sugar when it has become lumpy, stand it over a vessel filled with boiling water. _ Vinegar placed in a bottle of driedâ€"up glue will moisten and make it liquid again. f 4 To keep irons from rusting rub with mutton fat and wrap in brown paper before putting away. § Stale bread as crumbs or soaked in milk, custard, or stock, may ‘be used in the making of many sweet puddings, such as bread and butter pudding, apple Betty, plum pudâ€" ding, cheese pudding, etc. Whiting and ammonia are best for cleaning nickel. ; £ Milk toast is delicious when proâ€" perly made, but it is so simple that people are apt to make it carelessâ€" ly. Here is a recipe that, faithfully followed, makes perfect milk toast. Make a dry toast, spread with butâ€" ter and sprinkle with salt. Place it in the dish in which it is to be servâ€" ed. Pour over it a little boiling waâ€" ter ; cover and place in the oven for a fow minutes to steam. 1 Uses for Stale Bread. % Not a érust of stale bread should be thrown away, for it is not only useful for the crumbs which every householder keeps on hand to use in frying and scalloping, but may be used in countless other ways. Toast, of course, is always better when made from yesterday‘s bread and to make good toast is no mean art. Buttered toast, which makes a very good luncheon dish, is made from slightly stale bread. Heat a dish and stand it over hot water ; toast several evenly sliced pieces of bread and spread them generously with slightly _ softened butter. Eprinkle with salt; place them in the hot dish and stand for a minute or two in a hot oven; serve in a covered dish. » Put into a saucepan one teaâ€" spoonful of butter. When it bubâ€" bles, stir in a teaspoonful of flour and let it cook without | coloring. Add slowly, stirring all the time, one cupful of milk. Cook until slightly thickened and add a saltâ€" spoonful of salt. Pour this thickenâ€" ed milk over the softened toast just before serving. A puree of peas, made in very much the same manner, offers a soâ€" lution for leftâ€"over peas, and may also be made with the dried peas if they are soaked and boiled a sufâ€" ficiently long time. Mash and press the boiled peas through a sieve. Place them in a saucepan and stir into them enough hot milk and pepâ€" per and salt to well moisten and season,them ; add also butter and very little sugar. This may be served like mashed potatoes, or if preferred it can be turned into @ baking dish and slightly browned in the oven. Vegetable Leftâ€"Overs. The English have an odd way of using leftâ€"over vegetables for a very pretty as well as a palatable dish. It is called vegetable mould and can be made from almost any combpination of vegetables. Rub cold cakbage through a wire sieve, also some cold carrots and turnips, keeping each vegetable separate. Add to each a little melted ‘butter and season with pepper and salt. Grease a small mould and put the vegetables in in layers. Then bake or steam until the mould is hot all through. Turn out care{ully and serve. Other vegetables may be used in the same way. and the lightâ€" er the color of the vegetables the more unusual and attractive ‘the mould will ibe. "Colcannon‘"‘ is another English dish, simple to prepare and seldom seen in this country. This is made from cold leftâ€"over cabbage and poâ€" tatoes. Cut the potatoes in slices and fry brown in dripping; when they are browned add the sliced cold cakbage and fry lightly toâ€" gether. Season well and serve. HoOME Useful Hints. The Ancient Roman, like the Scot, grew strong upon porâ€" ridge. Puls was the staple of his diet. But foreign victories brought foreign manners, and luxury made an easy conquest of Rome, which presently adopted the three meals of the Greeks, to divide the day. In the early morning the Roman was satisfied with bread, dried fruits and cheese. ‘Then at noon came the prandium, which consisted, in simâ€" prandium, which consisted, in simâ€" ?h households, of the broken meats rom yesterday‘s dinner table, with What wonder then the cook‘s was a respectable profes=@on, becoming a free man! When we turn to Roms we fiad the same progress from simplicity to gluttony. 3 There is no better proof of the delicacy of the Greek palate than the honor in which cooks were held. They plied their trade with the greate:t freedom, and, not being atâ€" tached to this master or that, they were called in by the rich on occaâ€" sions of brilliant festivity. As the years passed the Greeks grew daintier and more critical of their food. The three meals which broke their day were not unlike those which stil}l obtain. ~Their first breakfast was simple enough, consisting of bread dipped in neat wine. Their luncheon was taken about noon, and their dinner was as late: as ours. . Spoons and forks they knew not, nor tablecloths nor napkins ; but, if their service was bad, in the fifth century luxury had already invaded Athens. _ _ z The heroes of Homer, for inâ€" stance, were not nice feeders. They seem to have had the healthy plain food and plenty of it. They had nceither butchers nor cooks. They slaughtered their own beasts and prepared their meat as well as they could. They had little taste ~for fish, which they ate only when there was nothing else to be had and they looked upon game as no better than the food of necessity. Nor were vegetables pleasing to their sturdy palates. Meat, bread and wine were their staple fare, and they asked for no accessories. Pork and mutton and goats‘ flesh they ate willingly . Pork Was Highly Estcemed. Indeed, the beast which, to some is still unclean, was very much to the taste of the Greeks, and was highly esteemed at their banquets unto the end. Athenseus writes in lyrical strains of a pig that once was served to him and his friends, the half of which was carefully roasted, the other half boiled gently, as if it had been steamed, and the whole stuffed with thrushes and other birds. But best of all the Homeric heroes liked beef, cut into pieces and grilled upon spits. And it was only on occasions of sacrifice that their desires were wholly satished. Though the godis, to be sure, claimâ€" ed the daintiest morsels, there was enough left to appease the stoutest hunger. Nor did they demand any adornment to such feasts as these save fruit. "He dines not who eats alone,"‘ was a maxim which never fell upon dishonor. That we should notice similarity rather than difference, as we look backward, is but natural. The craving for wellâ€"cooked food is wholesomely human, and if the palâ€" ate grows more delicate as the apâ€" petite becomes less gross the change is not peculiar to this country or that. As in postry, so in food, the love of simplicity is the proof of a golden, if primitive, age. § The Ancients, by whom we mean the Greeks and Romans, ate very much the same food that we eat toâ€" day, and with the same appetite. They looked upon the process, perâ€" haps, with an eye of greater cereâ€" mony. In Homeric times the gods took their share of every banquet, and in a later age of the placing of the guests, the conduct of the symâ€" posium, were of equal import with the choice of the meats and the wines. in drawers Sor some time often beâ€" FO0D TH: ANCIENTS LIXED s : uo4.‘ rop. ~pal A teakettle should be givten fr6â€" quent baths, else lime and other Never throw away cake, no matâ€" ter how dry, but the next time you bake a custard, slice the dry cake on top just before you place it in the oven. This makes a decious caramel. Flannelette may be rendered nonâ€" inflammaible by rinsing it after washing it in alum water. Dissolve two ounces of alum in a gallon oi cold water. quent baths, else. lime and other salts will settle on ‘the sides. Keep an oyster shell in the kettle to preâ€" vent this. Bake pastry in a hot oven ; this will expand the air in it and thus lighten the flour. Handle pastry as little and as lightly as possible. Use rolling pin lightly and with even pressure. * NoT so YZRY MUCH DIFFERâ€" ENT FROM OURS. Cooks Held in High Esteem After the Simple Life Had Been Pushed Into Shade. In cooking rice, if you wish to keep every grain separate, cook in rapidly boiling water, with cover off the vessel. To remove stains from white flanâ€" nel shirts and similar things, smear with equal part of yolk cf egg and glycerine. Leave for an hour and wash them in the usual way. for a while 300:&%0, and that it serves also an reviation for three ciphers, that 7458 is the same as 745$000 The followiag theory is rnot preâ€" sented as complete, but it has some aspects of probability which make it seem worthy of concidcration. The sign 8 was used in Portugal a~ early as 1544; how much earlier I cannot at present say. It was callâ€" ed tifroa (ciphra means a cipher, and cifroa is merely arguamentaâ€" tive). The Portuguese, however, did not use it originally or exclusively to represent a monetary unit, as apâ€" pears from the definitions of cifrom given in the Portuguese dictionaries of Viera, Moraes Silva and in the Diccionario Contemporeano, all of which say in substance that the cifâ€" roa serves to separate the thousands from the hundreds, as, for example, 3008506, and that it serves also as ORIGIN OF THE DOLLAR MARK be sought. Of all the theories advanced in explanation of the origin of the do!â€" lar mark not one is entirely satisâ€" factory and convineing. A Spanich source has often‘ ‘been suggected, but the faâ€"t that the cign is fst us>d in Spain is at least a negstive indiâ€" Yet if we compare the luxury o‘ modern times with the luxury ~ Rome, we shall observe but few d‘f ferences, We do not, like the Ro mans, recline at our meals; we d not observe the ceremonies of th» triclinium ; we are more sensitive in keeping clean our hands, and preâ€" fer forks to fingers, but the tast> of man has not greatly changed ¢~ 2,000 years, and if it could be our good fortune to dine with Lucalus. his table would cause us no confuâ€" sion and but small surprise. Was Called "Cifrao" â€"First and Last Letters of Wyrd Mean Thousands. A Large Number of Thrushes. It was a fantastic spectac‘le, an suggests not the banquet of an ep cure, but what the newspapers « today call a freak dinner. Ard the Romans, no less than the Greeks, proved their love of the pis by the preference they showed fo: sausage and black puddings. F: the rest they esteemed a hare, 3 goat, or a dormous> that had been fed on chestnuts as rare dainties, and they finished their feasts with ~ fine array of pasiry and fruit. Sow there were who praissd the simp‘! life, but we may assume that Hor 8IGN USED INX PORTUGAL 1X SIXTEENTH CENXTURY. So valiant a beast, freed because the guests of yecterday had sont him away untasted, deserved the ministration of no mean carver; And a big bearded man in a spanâ€" Eled hunting ccoat plunged a great nife into his side, and as the kni/: entered, out there flew ace, when he dec‘ared h*s hatred parsici apparatus, was express no more than the remorse of a jad palate. But no banguet at Rome was complete without a wild boar, whose entrance upon the table, roasted whole, marked the highest momer: of the ceremonial feast. Petroniv has described the pomp of its com ing with a vast deal of cireumâ€" stance. "A tray was brought in with a wild boar of the largest sizo upon it, wearing a cap of freedom, with two litt‘e baskets wove of palm twigs hanging from his tusks, ono full of dry dates and the other ~ hsh. Round it lay suckling pig: made of Simmel cake with thei mouths to the teats, thereby showâ€" ing that we had a sow before us." devised to stimulate appetite, not to sntisfy hunger. ~ It consisted of an 6 array of what we call g‘ ceuvre, anrd yet ressemb‘ed ded r‘de tables of Bweden ‘and "Russia more nearly than the modest dishes of Frascse.~ Therg wereâ€"shellfish and eggs and vegoâ€" tablee, _ _At the famous banquet of Triâ€" maichio, which, it should be rememâ€" bered, was not morely a bangust, but a burlesque,, and , was given by a multiâ€"millionaire, as we should call him toâ€"day, tho-"loilf.uo would have served the most of mea for a dinner. A donkey of~ Cofinthian bronze held two baskets of olives, white on one side, black on the other. Then there â€"were dormis covered with honey ard poppy seed, hot sausages on a silver grill, and benesth trem Jamsons and pomeâ€" gramate so;ds. But a Roman dincd with Trimaichio g: rarely as with Lucullus, and the freedman‘s fancy was separate and I‘s own. The Satirists and Historians, as we know, condemn the extravs gance, which vastly increased unâ€" der the empire, and which bade the wealthy Romans send for their priceless delicacies to the ends of the earth. Satire had nmo more efâ€" fect than sumptuary laws, and the banquets of rich patricians and wealthyâ€" freedmen are legendary. First came the fish, for poor as for rich a necessity of the dinner. Beaâ€" barbel and the turbot of Ravenna were the favorites and the haddock was not disdained. Oysters were as highly prized at Rome as in modern ‘London, and were brought by the wealthy from Britain to be fattened in the Luâ€" crine Lake. ‘Of the birds, the chief in esteent were fowls and peacocks, and fieldfares were as eagorly sought for in Rome as in the Atheas of Aristophanes. Aiter the gustus came the regular courses (fercula they are called), which might be three, or even seâ€" ven, in the houses of epicures,. ° that another orig‘a shou‘d TORONTO An Irish agricultural journal adâ€" vertizes a new washing machine unâ€" der the heading : ‘Every man is his own washerwoman."" The same paâ€" per, in. its culinary department, says that "Potatoes should be boilâ€" ed in cold water." J; is well known that morey Bpanicthâ€"Amer‘can e~mageo waes ex tensively cireu‘ated in the Uaited Btates in the "early colon‘al 4ays, and the siga wou‘d not improbab‘y be employed in commerce. 1ts posi tion before jnstead oA sfter the naâ€" merals may be ascountcd for by .he Englisth custorn of plasing J\he 8 to the left, as has been sugg:=ed. (a Bpanishâ€"Amercaa . hooks + «ome timas cooupies one plass acd conse t.mes another, but hore agala Por tuguese influence mishs be t+ra~»d for as its plase was immedately be fore tas hundreds as wo have al ready scen, it would corsectly stand at the left of huodreds in writing #1.00, s‘nce the American syetem of !eckoning very seldom takes mils into account. The mark, as we have seea. is in general unse in Brazis It is a‘so> used in the cther Lataâ€"Amorissa countrice, and it seems very probsa ble that Spanish Amsrica ad ptrod it from Portuguese. America. _ The boundaries betwecn Brazil and tae reighboring Bpa 1 scoloa‘ss wore not very clca!rr; established jn the eightsenth cemay. For +â€"xe <ime the Portuguese theld porsesciora of parts of Paraguay sad Uruguay. 1t is surely not «ramge that the cifrao shov‘d have becsa introduced jato thcee regions. and that its use should have extendsd to all 8pa si«h possessions. â€" c C with Braztan moasy and tho res afterwards divided by two. A Contae=ction. 1t seems probable that whe # i contracted combinatioa of M. : 8, whe first and Int loiters oi Portuguese word m Ukares, vD means thouseands. The suppres ~A the middle stroke of she M wo be very qatural <a cipher. Portuguaers p> 18 a "G pataca. is nearly equiyz‘en dollar in value. e ‘sa use to represont thousaad as well as of coins; thus t~ guese histcrian Leos writ avallos, e 508 in"satesâ€"fo sand cavalry and filty (how fantry. (plural worth milreis »as in Marsu on in America, etc. that Macau and The Dictiozcario C« adds that it is a‘s> u sent a monetaury va‘*. The Portuguese naturally carsled this «sign with them whea they e>â€" onized Prazil, and it is in constaat vee in that country. It should be observed that when the Poitaguese use it in reckoning monrey, they alâ€" ways use the wornd reis. They writo 1:000$8000 reis, or 4:0038000. 1t may be well to explsin that the real (plural re‘s) is an» imag sary oua worth .08 more thaa our mia:; the i our currency. quivalent to half In rough caleu rmcmey Can be re erd by strikicg lacsing 8 at the : cepyal polat i9 £00 is the ava‘s $10.( ) $1060,039, a~d murse, being he sams proco lamp saves eye strain. â€"It is keroâ€" sene light at its best â€" clear, mellow, and unflickering. The RAYO does not smoke or smell. It is easy to light, easy to clean, and easy to reâ€" wick. The RAYO costs little, but you cannot get a better lamp at any price. Easier IF the child Kas a big, generous light to study by. The Lessons Come Carried +o Rrazil Made in Canada m 1008600 corresp« Loupon on m â€" takk ore 1 its a 6 A eq appro® me â€" <lf 1 puitiag t B 0) AZ to reor id 18@ mat ) 13 i4 4