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b\ t «+ Â¥ L9i § | lay upon my breast, and the tears that}Said, had been a pleasant one, but he fell like rain. 1 told her that what| was afraid the air did not suit Lady I was avbout to repeat was my mother‘s| Severne. She bhad not teen well since favorite. an< that it was called "An | bher arrival, and he thought it wou!~ Ange!‘s Song." ! be better for them to fi "Yor have the face of an ange!," nhe, I believe every heart in the room achâ€" wid.looking up at me, "with that goidâ€" led for him; he looked so anxiouns and There came into my mind one of those poems that my mother had lovedâ€"one she had often repeated to me â€" one which when she was dying. she had asked me to say once again for her. I shall never forget my surroundings @5 Lasy Severns prefgrred her reâ€" nestâ€"â€"the blue sky f‘ushed with rosy fi.m. the green earth waking up to summer life,. the dark tackground of the room that had hbeen like a prison, the tbeautiful. yet kaggard face that lay upon my breast, and the tears that feli like rain. 1 told her that what She came and stood in silence by my side. I saw her look at the brilliant., beautiful tints of the morning sky, at the frosh tender beauty of th» green trees. and then her eyes wandered round the room. ‘The glasses, the arish light of the lamp, the conâ€" ’usion and disorder, how they contrastâ€" ed with the bright, pure heavens and the clear light of day! I knew that the contrast had touched her; I felt that the peaceful influence of ©the morning had reached her. The wind, which was like th» breath of the roses, seemed to change her face as it swept over it. She put her arms round me. "I am so tired," she said. I took her in my arms and laid ber head upon my brsastâ€"a lost, unhappy woman, 1 knew, hut still Mark‘s wife. The warm tears were falling then from her eyes. "How kind you are to me !" she said. "I am so tired that 1 con!d sleep forâ€" ever, I think. Tell me something. Say to me some of the beautifal words that' ypou sing.‘~ . 1*!3 Lady Severne never went to rest Uike a rationa‘ being. That made her se diificult to manage. She wou‘ld sit up al! night and sleep in the day. A sudden gleam of gold shooting into the room showed me that the sun was Ilsing. I drew aside the hangings and opened the window, letting in the saweetness and freshness of the mornâ€" inz aipr. "Dear Lady Severne, do come here for one moment," T said. It was about four in the murning- & lorely June morning, bright with sun«hine, and with dew, fragrant with !.‘ba odor of lily and rose. Puring her I found Lady Severne inclined to be qulet and talk rationally. There was something of sullen deflance about her at first, but it died away when I had been some little time with her. I tried to interest her and to make her forâ€" get the horrible craving for stimu‘ant that was destroying ber. She became more like herse‘lf. "You wil}l hbave a terrible night, Miss Chester," said the grim woman. "I shall not mind that, Martha, if you have a good one," 1 answered. I took ber back to her room, and the prayer that ross to my lips every moâ€" ment was "Heaven belp Mark!® _ If this was his life if those were the scenes to which he was accustomed, this creatura, hardly buman now, the companion of bis l:fe, then indeed had be need of Heaven‘s help and pity. I contrived to get her back safely to her room, and to wake Martha who was bhorriiied at ber carelessness, but as she told me with tears in her eyes She was worn out. Never can I forâ€" get the night that followed. I could not describe it. To me it had the horâ€" ror of an Inferne. 1 cannot tell what would have happened if Marthi bhad Got consented, at last, to give ber some brandy . } The next night Martha was so worn t that 1 persuaded ber to go to bed.. g":nhina else could restore bher, and I promised not to leaye her unbappy misâ€" tress for a moment. 1 looked at her steadily and calmly. Gradually the wild eyes fell before mine. I knew that if I could assert and maintain my authority over her then, I should keep itâ€"and I did so. I was quite uncertain bow my exâ€" periment would succeed. I was preâ€" pared to see her spring at my throat as she had at Martha‘s a few days Ance, to see her beat the doors with horrivle cries, as she bhad on the preâ€" vious day, when Martbha was compellâ€" ed to wend for Lord Severne. "Neitber," I said. "I am stronger than you. If you attempt to scream or to make a nolse, Ishall prevent it, even if I hurt you. You will go back to your own room and remain there in quiet." is . ‘"Where is Martha?‘ 1 asked, wonâ€" dering how she had escaped. and thankâ€" fu! beyond words that she was here with me in the "Queen‘s wing," rathâ€" er than in the western tower with the visitora. "I must have it," she continued. "I mean to have it. I know what is goâ€" ing on, although I am shut up. I know proud, refined Lady Yorke would not like her bouseho!ld raised durâ€" ing the dead of night by one of her guests calling for something to drink. Bhe would not likeit.pntif you do not give me what I want I will beat the deors down, I will stand in the bhall and scream until the whole house is A pretty dilemma. A nice visitor! 1 thought to myself ; but I did not let her see my dismay. It would be better, I thought, to take her a bottle of poison. "You must get up," she said. "You | are the only person in this bhouse who | ts kind to me. You must get up and | fetch ns a bottle of brandy. 1 must.' have 1t."* ? UNDER THE LILAC TREE. x«HAPTER XVI That same ‘evening Mark,. with an effort for which 1 admired bim, returnâ€" ed to the drawingâ€"room and spoke of his wife. His visit to Westwooi, he There was a polite murrmuur of regret, but no one spoke. Whether any of those assembled there knew the truth bad really seen and understood ber condition, I eannot tell. No one menâ€" tioned her name or spoke of her after "Lady Severne has fallen over her train." she said, quietly. "1 wish those long sweeping trains were out of fashion; they are very dangerous." _ E C o en ae s | Lady Severne had deceived ber. I only know the results. Martha dressed her ladyship for dinner, and Lady Severne asked for a favorite dress of hers, a handsome white and gold brocaded satâ€" in.â€" Martha was delighted that she lahould take so great an interest in her | appearance ; that was always a good sign. She evidently did not perceive anything wrong in Lady Severne, or possibly the mischief was done after she left her. We were all in the drawâ€" ing room waiting for the dinncr bell. Lord Severne was ta‘king to Captain Forrester, more at ease and less anxâ€" ious than 1 bad seen him for many days, and Lady Yorke looked as though a great load had been taken from ber mind. Some one had just inquired if we should have the pieasure of seeing Lady Severne at dinner,. and Lady Yorke had answered with a bright smile, that she was much better and would certainly join thein. when thei door opened and we saw her standing. on the threshold, saw the gleam of white and gold, saw the light in the diamonds, the graceful figure, the white jeweled hands. A‘as, alas, how shall t tell it? Inone moment L saw what was the matterâ€"so did Mark and Lady Yorke, and we all three hastened toward her. THer face was ghastly, her eyes were wild, and a leering smile bovered on her lips. Half conscious herself that she was not able to move, yet with a mad defiance of her own feelings, she tried to walk with a digâ€" nified step into the room and before one of us could reach ber. could put out a hand to save her, sh> had fallen upon ber face, to the dismay and disâ€" tress of every one present. In less than a minute. Lord Severne had raised his wife in his arms and borne her away. % Lady Yorke I have never a face white guests. My hope was vain. A few days aftâ€" erwards Lady Severne was, to use the nurse‘s pbhrase, worse than ever. The blow that Lady Yorke had feared fell; the terrible expose which she bad dreaded came. For a day or two Lady Severne bad been better. She came down to dinner, and was careful what she drank. There was relief on Mark‘s face and on Lady Yorke‘s. On the third day an awfu! occurrence hapâ€" pened. Whether Martha was tired, off her guard, or in ignorance of what was going on. I know not. Perhaps hignngreiih â€"lcis â€" S â€" 7. Seerony : HIVbE+ 4 "Please Heaven! but I kave seen her ladyshin repent before now, and found ber worse than ever a few bhours aftâ€" erward." Despite these words, I had a hope. "Further and fainter the song died out, But 1 beard the angels still." bed. I wl:i?speretrl‘;nivlâ€")-(‘;;o“‘tv;;' the .(‘)l(‘l nurse. She said : in my arms in the light of the morn,â€" ing sun, I thought she was saved, and tears of gratitude filled my eyes. I thought the sweet influences of the fair summer morn had spoken to her heart, that grace from beaven had fallen like dew upon her soul. I let her s‘eep as long as she could, and then Martha came back. We laid her dgwn. pale and exbausted, on her And 1% Well, I knew so little of the bold this terrible vice takes of its vieâ€" tims that as 1 held her closely clasped Then with tears of regret and reâ€" pentance, utterly exbausted she fell into a deep sleep with her head upon my breast. ed her sin, that she loathed herself. Would I show her the way to that heaven where the angels sung? What could she do to atone to Mark? What could she do to regain bher lost youth and goodness? She clutched my arm as she cried out : ‘"A demon holds me in his grasp â€" take me from him !" ed ter, The lonely shall find a friendâ€" There the heart‘s desire shall be grantâ€" ed That hath trusted and loved to the end."‘ Tears are the dew of beaven, the poet tells us. Tears fell from Lady Severne‘s eyes upon my â€"dress and hands. She was clinging. to me wildâ€" ly crying out that she wished she had been a better woman, that she loathâ€" ifPâ€"~â€"rbvcimaliicindiiihiter t D â€"irie dilrsiediisisresss; 1 Wisteatascteil They are bidding me home at last, To the place where the joy of the fuâ€" Shal| be linked on the love of the past, Where the bouseless shall seek a shelâ€" "Not a drop in the cup seemed wanting The thirst of a life to fill, £ And further and fainter the song died out, But I heard the angels still. I think it will not be long, child ; The voice was so tender and earnast That joy was too dee» for mirth, And the heart was too full for speech, "Again, when I walked with the lovâ€" ed oneâ€" You remember this loved one, dear, And the smile that has gone from amâ€" en light upon it," and she listemed to every word. i ; "I know I have beard them sing, child, And I know that they spoke to me, With my mother‘s arms around me, While I sat on my mother‘s knee, And she told me of love that p.ved us, And a Father we had on high, And the grave that we need not fear, child, child, y, T ols ¢ And heaven came down on earthâ€" And the voice we no longer bear tâ€" And the soul that can never die CHAPTER XVII with a presence of mind seen equaled, but with as death, turned to her with the heavy grades between Torâ€" van vor passengers, or to stop sudâ€" equipment of a full line of handsome, onto and Richmond Hill up Yonge St.. de0‘s i\ case of danger. An automaâ€" commodious and rapid autocars. ‘The where the HLite: of t i1 trun tic Yeditator in front of the motors which will be itted in these it 0t AHIOCE NE . Y * motori‘an will give him full direc autocars are the invenbton of Mr. W The car is of handsome design, and the tions. Tae van will be furnished J. Still, and tae Canadian Motor Sy.: upholstering, electric lighting, paintâ€" with stmzg, effective brakes of two dicate contro‘ the rights for the Domâ€" separate deaigns. The entire work will inion for their use in bicycles, tricy. ing, otc.. will be in keeping with the x Mr. St. cles. i . s yclea, y the be done by Canadian experts. Mr. St. cles, invalid chairs, road vehicles of all beauty of the lines as shown in Germain has purchased an interest in kinds. street cars and locomotives, as engraving. The first car will be a the Syndicate, and bas already depositâ€" well as for stationary engines. The enâ€" pessenger and parcels van, seating 25 ed several thousands of dollars to their ternrise promises to be large and luoâ€" 1 with credit to secure the immediate proseâ€" ra:ise. Mr. St. Germain, is to be g»amtld“tt!lfll uggege With ourion of the work. Mr. St. Germ:in gratulated on his pluck and p.,:‘.;- in the railed space on the roof. BleCâ€" to show his good frith and confidenc> en« in pushing forward his agitation tric buttons for use of passenrers and in the enterprisc. h = @so on deposit for the new line of autocars which will w‘ will warn the c â€" ~<man in cash and securi‘i~= th> sum of $i00.â€" be the first in Canads if not on this to tusn to right or | *o 000 availasble for the building and conmtinent. ento, of which Mr. Thomas Benâ€" * _ gough, Court Stenographer, is < President, and Mr. W. J. Still is Mechenical Engineer, which calls for the first car to be finished at once, to be equipped with motors exerting 20 horseâ€" power, and capable of ascendâ€" ing grades equal to 1 foot in 8, so that there will be no trouble with the heavy grades between Torâ€" ento and Richmond Hill up Yonge St., where the line of autocars will run. The car is of handsome design, and the upholstering, electrico lighting, paintâ€" ing, otc.. will be in keeping with the beauty of the lines as shown in the "Louise," he said, here is news. Listâ€" en. "At Nice, the 18th inst., after a I asked Lady Yorke if she had receivâ€" ed any letter from him. The answer was always "No," but we often spoke when we were quite alone, of the beauâ€" tiful, hapless woman whe was worse than dead. One morning Lord Yorke looked up from his paper. We heard notbing of him. He never wrote. He bad kept his word; be had cut himself adrift from every social tie and from the world. at heart to inquire. I spertt the next two years with Lady Yorke as happy as I could ever be in this world, belping her in all her good deeds and works of charity, thinking always with a sorely aching heart of Mark. Through the enterprise of Mr. A. H. St. Germain, of North Toronto, the citizens of Toronâ€" to and the County of York are #o be privileged to have runâ€" ning in their midst in the early summer, the first autocar in Canaida. Mr. St. Germain has elosed a contract with the Canâ€" adian Motor Syndicate of Torâ€", They left Westwood early the next morning. How the removal was manâ€" aged | never heard, and I was too sick at heart to inquire. The last sound I remember was the terrible, passionate sobbing of a strong man, and then came to me a merciâ€" ful ob‘livion. THE FIRST CANADIAN AUTOCAR He was kneeling at my feet. Was it wrong. when I saw his white face so full of anguish, his eyes so full of painâ€"â€"was it wrong to bend over him, to put my face for one minute near his, to kiss him with my whole soul on my lips, whi‘e I saidâ€""I forgive you, oh, dearest love! Goodâ€"bye!" "It is .this, Nellieâ€"that before Igo will you say that you forgive me. The burden of my life is a heavy one, and the heaviest part of it is the sorrow that my mad folly has brought upon you. Let me take into my dreary exâ€" ile that knowledge, and it will be to me a gleam of bappiness, the only one that can reach me after my cowardâ€" ice, my weakness, my folly, my betrayâ€" al of your faith and trust. Ohb, lost love of my youth, oh, true love of my beart, forgive me, forgive me!" _ "I shall do my best, Nellie. After toâ€" night, I have done with the world. I will never visit nor receive visitors again ; I have finished with society. I cannot bear the disgrace; but J shall do my best for my hapless wife. I broke one vow; I will not break anothâ€" er. It was ‘for better, for worse,‘ and and it is for the worse. I shall take her away from England, find some place where there are few temptations, and take the greatest care of her. There is no hope, I fear, but I will do my best until the very end. I fastened the yoke around my own neck; I must bear it with patience and courage. 1 say goodâ€"by to all that is bright in life toâ€"night, Nellie. I would rather die a thousand deaths than risk such a scene again. I am going from light to darkness. There is one thing only that can make me less sad and less sorâ€" rowful." "What is it, Mark?" I asked, with fastâ€"falling tears. . ‘"You are right, Nellie, and Ihave no reason to complain. It is a‘l my own fault. I have paid a bitter price for my weakness and follyâ€"only Heaâ€" ven knows how litter; man can never tell. I deserve to suffer !" "What shall you do?" I asked, lookâ€" ing with loving, longing eyes at the dark handsome face, so humble and so ‘"No, I could not do that. The wide world must lie between us, Mark, forevermore. 1 will think of you, pray for you, but see you againâ€"never!" "You have been very good to my unâ€" bappy wife:; you have been your own selfâ€"gemerous, noble, forgiving, I beâ€" lieve; Nellie, that if any one could do her good, it would be you. She loves you, she seems to have a certain faith and trust in you.‘" He looked at me wistfully. "I dare not ask youâ€" you would not, of courseâ€"you could not in any way take charge of herâ€"travel with we!? Ah, noâ€"I am mad to think of such a thing !" _ Yet to refuse him was the hardest thing I had ever had to do in my life. "Heaven help you, Mark!‘ I ansâ€" wered, with tears. many times before, in the bright moonâ€" light, and Mark raised his haggard face to mine. I went. My beart was filled with anguish and despair, a horrible restâ€" less pain. He was going awayâ€" Mark who had heen my loverâ€"in distress and sorrow, and we were never to meet ‘"Nellie, see â€" there are several people out on the terrace enjoying the moonlight. I want to say goodâ€"by to you. I shall never see you again. Will you come ?" 4i so sad. There were a few words of reâ€" gret from the visitors, a kindly exâ€" pressed hope that Lady Severne would scon recover. Not one word of suspiâ€" clon was breathed; but there was a strange quiet. No one talked much; we bad no music, no singing. One or two spoke of leaving Westwood, and there was over all an indefinable shadow and gloom. Later on, Mark, addressing me almost for the first time, said : e "You know my secret now, Nellie?" We stood together, as we had so TORONTO van â€" ‘or passengers, or to stop sudâ€" den!y h) case of danger. An automaâ€" tic Yedisator in front of _ the motoritan will give him full direcâ€" tions. Tae van will be furnished with strmag, effective brakes of two separate deaigns. The entire work will be done by Canadian experts. Mr. St. Little Bessieâ€"I know, but Uncle Jack says ladies don‘t bhave any birthdays after they are 25 years old, so I want to have lots of them before it is too late. _Motherâ€"Why, Bessie, your birthâ€" day isn‘t till next summer. _ ’ CONSIDERATE ARAB WIDOW. _ When an Arab woman is tired of widowhood and desires to marry again she goes the night before the wedding to her husband‘s tomb and prays him not to be offended. To make quite sure of ‘his forgiveness she brings with her two large goatâ€"skins filled with water and with these she waters the grave that the refreshing liquid may soak down to the defunct husband‘s bones. Having thus done all she can to propitiâ€" ate his spirit she goes off with a good courage to start life again as a wife. Little Bessieâ€"Can‘t I bhave a birthâ€" day party next week, mamma? _ *"Our meals," Mr. Zander writes, "we find abundant in quantity and varâ€" iety. For breakfast we have coffee, coffeeâ€"cake, bread and butter, with eggs or fried ham occasionally. For dinner we have boiled potatoes with butter gravy, boiled cabbage or other vegeâ€" tables, and pudding or pie, and coffee. Sometimes we have pork and beans, and sometimes some egg preparation, as potato pancakes, dumplings, etc., while with one meal in the week we have meat. For supper we hbhave the remains of our dinner, with fried or baked potatoes and eggs. We have coffee with every meal. On this fare we thrive well." A Familly of Four Live Well on $200 Per Year. A. H. Zander contributes an article to the Ladies Home Journal, in which he tells how he maintains a family of four personsâ€"his wife, two children and himselfâ€"on $200 per year. He is a school teacher and is paid a salary of $405, out of which he saves and puts out at interest $200 yearly. Living in a small Wisconsin town he has the adâ€" vantage of cheap rents, his house costâ€" ing him $36 per year. His other exâ€" penses are: Provisions, $94.82; clothâ€" ing and footwear, $38; magazines and newspapers, $5; incidentals, $40. j ‘"‘Nellie my love for you was never ‘TLove for a day.‘" 1 am Lady Severne now, with fair children growing round me, and Ilove my husband just as much as I did when we met and parted under the lilac trees. I love him as well and so dearly that I pray 1 may die looking on his face. ‘The only reference to the past that Mark ever made was one day when he took me in his arms and said : my hbheart, my love, were his, as tie; had always been? I did not say him nay. Mgrk_ knows best what I said. P on o o o t o nc in n o tE on me. You might do so, Nellie; I am at your mercy. If you send me avay, I cannot complain, but as there is mercy in heaven there should be mercy on earth. Love, my love, take me; help me to be a better man:; help me to be noble and strong! My life is in your hands, Nellie; will you say me nay ?" How could I, when I had loved him, and him only, all my life? How could I, when every glance, every word, of his was dear to me. How could I, when Mark came back to me, not then but two years afterwards, and asked me again to be his wife. "I know, Nellie," he said, "that some women of a,nature lower than yours would punish me now, would take their revenge, would _ éend me away broken hearted and wretched, would give me back pain for pain,would delight in' heaping scorn and contempt I never in all the after years asked how she died. The only thing told to me was, "She died in peace!" and I know how great is the méx;é‘y' of Ifgaâ€"veâ€"n.- perfect this pardon for sin. And I wondered if the long and linâ€" gering iliness had been sent to help purify that poor sinful sou!, in which, after all, there had been a yearning for good. Had she gone: "Whe!"e the houseless shall seek a shelâ€" tbl'y The lonely shall find a friendâ€" Where the beart‘s desire shall be granted _ That hath trusted and loved to the end ¢" ' Yorke. A WISE PRECAUTION. LESSON IN ECONOMY. THE END. Well, sah de white ones is de easiest found, an de dahk ones de easiest hid after yo gits em. BOTH HAD THEIR MERITS. Uncle, which breed of chickens the best ? Attorneyâ€"You say you hbad called to see Miss Billings and was at the house at the time the burglary was committed ? Witnessâ€"Yes, sir. | Then how did it happen that when the prisoner dashed into the room and assaulted you, you leaped through the window and went home, making no attempt to defend the lady or give | the alarm ? ) He was obliged once to pawn his watch. He started life with an income of $550,000 a year. Hea says he bhas no debts. He loves to travel incognito in Paris. He buys hundreds of theater tickâ€" ets without using them. His favorite vehicle in London is a hansom cab, yet his stables cost $75,â€" 000 a year. His_:ife was nover attempted by an assassin. He goes to church e;'ery Bunday imorning. He spends $5,000 a _ year for teleâ€" grams. He is a cclone! eight times over. He has every order of knighthood in Europe. His uniforms are worth $75,000. He is a field marshal and an admiral. He is the chief horse owner, dog ownâ€" er and yachtsman in England. \ He owns the deepest mine in Engâ€" land. He was the first Christian to dine with the Sultan of Turkey. He never allows a typewriter in his house. He is a D.C. L. otf Oxford, an LL. D. of Cambridge and a barrister. He has 13 university degrees. He has laid 73 large and important foundation stones. He opened part of the Suez canal. He has made more speeches than any other man in the world, but mostly short ones. I thought it was her father He loves to labor for the workingâ€" man. He is said to be one of the best shots in England. He is 57 years old, and bas four grandchildren. * His favorite wine is champagne of 1889, and his favorite liquor a cogâ€" nac 40 years old. He is a firstâ€"class judge of borses and dogs. He sets the fashions in clothes for the whole world. » Lumber, Shingles and Lath always In Stock. Rometbing About the Mcir to the Throne Which May Interest Nou, He is 5 feet 6 incbes high and weighs 180 pounds. Having Completed our New Factory we are now prepared to FILL ALL ORDERS PROMPTLY. We keep in Stock a large quantity of Sash, Doors, Mouldings, Flooring and the differâ€" Sash and Door Factory. ent Kinds of Dressed Lumber for outside sheeting. Our Stock of DRY LUMRE is very Large so that all orders can be filled. He has light grey eyes, a grey beard, brown complexion, and a bald head. Hfis hands and feet are small and NATURAL PRESUMPTION. THE PRINCE OF WALES. X.. G. &J. MoKECHNIBE i Sambo Johnson, sternly i know I toI‘ yo‘ not t‘ go swi, no white trash chiliun, eb ? |_ Sambo Jobnson, J r.â€"But | white befor‘ he went in. Why do you that umbrella ever lost an Mrs. Swillerâ€"Y ou came home intoxiâ€" cated last night ! Disgraceful 1 Mr. Bwiller, innocentlyâ€"l)id I? I don‘t remember it ! & ex of th., p._:/ . 0" was only an annex of the British Admiralty Deâ€" partment, «inuvin, . 7° _ ®#SDTUL Â¥oice he began singing a long rambwling song of the sea. It had thirtyâ€"two verses, uninâ€" telligible to the shore lubber, but the chorus â€" which burst out every _ few minutes, was something like this : Though death may be near There can bhe no fear In the heart of a British tar. Nashville‘s jackies took up the reâ€" frain and bawled out "British tar" ag if the White Squadron was only _ an anneXx of the Britick 4 1 0; OWYc ® ; _ 5 _[TCAds men had a their ;nrt{. In ashrill voice singing a ong rambling #or sea. It had thirtyâ€"two ver telligible to the shore lubbe; chorus â€" which burst out e minutés, was somethinas i: * â€"_ ,\‘>~_ ‘°no Darâ€"room further down Duval street, the ‘forecastlemen of the Ameriâ€" tan and English ships were proc‘aimâ€" ing the same sentiment in their own way. On board the Cordelia are a number of Scotch marines, A party of them were welcomed at the bar by a score of marines from the New York, A Cuban in the crowd began playing & mouth organ, A hig American corâ€" pora! grabbed a little stocky Scotchâ€" man around the waist and began waltzâ€" ing. In a minute the floor of the saâ€" loon was shaking under the heavy tread of thr dancing marines, while a crowd of British tars over in the corâ€" ?ert kept time with their hands and eet, The Cordelia‘s men had a so‘loist in their party. In ashril1 y,;,2 70 :05 in street, the "f. } Almost ever since there bas been such a thing as an American navy the Arrival together in the same port of an American and a British warship has been the occasion of fights between the crews. For that reason the preâ€" sent friendly feeling between Engâ€" lish and American sailors is regardâ€" ed as significant. There is method in it, so naval officers are saying. "The United States already has the moral support of England in our troubles with Spain," said a lHeutenâ€" ant on the Detroit, "and we want to keep it." selves at the same bars and come in together on the chorus of the same songs. This has been going on ever since the arrival here of the Britis] warship Cordelia. A Key West despatch to the New York World says: British and Amâ€" erican tars are fraternizing in the friendliest manner in Key West. They rrome.nade the streets arm in arm, ride n the same phaetons, refresh themâ€" They Are Enjoying Themselves Together at kKey West, Floridaâ€"Biood Thicker Than Water. BRITISH AND AMERICAN SAILORS FRATERNiZING. y do you make such a row abo imbrella you lost ? Haven‘t y ost an umbrelia before 2 ; but this one Ts mine SIGNIFICANT INCIDEBNTS, Cyil CC oeen a minute the floor of > shaking | under the the dancing marines, , B_ritish tars over in i 'Johnsun. _ sterniyâ€"Don‘ METAMORPHOSIS FESTIVE sEAsox DIFFERENT "m _ Under the h,‘.‘,, ncing marines, while a h tars over in the corâ€" with their hands and so well. They are ) _not wa‘k with the id splendid swing of aduate; bui they are broadâ€"gshouldered and king. asts were drunk, but them all was eternal n England ard Amâ€" go swimmin‘ about yo* Handâ€"made I‘ the old stan made shoe Horse Shoe ALLAN V In the Town of D« Grey, including valbe: Brick Dwelling, a buliding lots, will be & lpots Also lot No. 60, Township of Bentincl ing Town plot Durha FOR The EDGE LIUINSED AVO Coupty of Grey. Ba and at reasonable pates Lo&n and Insurar veyancer, Jom: Loane maod with out promptly made. in NANEK PO LOAN at Has opened out Novamy Punmurâ€"e. MONEY To 1 BJms sc BUSINESS ) I® one door mnorth of Mortgage taken 1 "BSUER of Marringe > tioneer for Counties Residenceâ€"Eing Bt. Firstâ€"Clas %. Asy person wh “ M Dfl”, w h name or another, or seribed or not is reap 8. Itf msubsoriber , mp'od #t s certain to centinugese to sapd , th i pay for it if he tnk Of the Best Q) TH AN JAMES 1, Ifany person orl “"“o be must pay publisher may coputin mentic made, lnx colj whaether it be takon f There ean be no le‘u{ paymentismade . office. This procee hat a man must pay We oa!) the .,.',m magte‘s and subsorib nopsis of the newcpa UNDERTAKING P Jobbing of all Fire I1 OFFIOK, over Gnawr‘e J. P. TE HUCH WOOD MISOELL Furn . L. MC Still to be foun oppesite the D in connec A Arstâ€"clas Apply to JA for sale c N ow spa DUR