Barry Herald

THE BROKEN GATES OF DEATH. Most Irish country people believe that only those who die of old age go straight to some distant Hades or Heaven or Purgatory. The young are believed to be taken by the others," as the country people call the fairies, and live, until they die a second time, in the green forts," the remnants of the houses of the old inhabitants of Ireland, or in the woods. This nearness of the dead to the living gives rise to an abundance of stories, of which Mr. W. B. Yeats con- tributes a most interesting collection to the Fort- nightly Review. We select a few showing the curiously primitive temper of our neighbours Most of the stories are about women who are brought back by their husbands, but almost always against their will, because their will is under enchant- ment. An old man at Lisadell, in county Sligo, told a number of tradition tales of the kind that are repeated generation after generation in the same words and in the same chanting voice. His father had told him never to refuse a night's lodging to any poor travelling person," and one night" a travel- ling woman," or beggar woman, told him that in her place a woman died and was taken by the gentry," and her husband often saw her after she was dead, and was afraid to speak to her. He told his brother, and his brother said he would come and speak to her, and he came, and at night lay on a settle at the foot of the bed. When she came in, he laid hold of her and would not let her go, although she begged him to let her go because she was nursing the child of the King." Twelve messengers came in one after the other, and begged him to let her go, but he would not; and at last the King came him- self, and said that she had been always well treated, and let come and nurse her own child, and that if she might stay until his child was weaned, he would send her limine again, and leave, where they could find it, money to pay a debt of some £ 40 that was over her husband. The man said, Do you pro- mise this on your honour as a King?" and the King said, I do," and so the man let her go, and all hap- pened as the King had promised. People indeed come back for all kinds of purposes. The writer of the paper was told at Sligo about four years ago of a man who was being constantly beaten by a dead person. Sometimes it was said you could hear the blows as he came along the road, and some- times he would be dragged out of bed at night and his wife would hear the blows, but you could never see anything. He had thought to escape the dead person by going to a distant place, but he had been followed there. Nobody seemed to give him any pity, for it was an old uncle of his own that was beating him." Sometimes people come back out of mere friendli- ness, though the sight of them has often an unwhole- some effect upon the living. A man on the coast opposite Arran, in Western Galway, was the contri- butor of this tale: "There was a boy going to America, and when he was going, he said to the girl next door, Wherever I am when you're married. I'll come back to the wedding.' And not long after he went to America he died. And when the girl was married and all the friends and neighbours in the house, he appeared in the room, but no one saw him but hi s com- rade he used to have here and thegirl's brother saw him too, but no one else. And the comrade followed him and went close to him, and said, Is it you, indeed ?' And he said, It is, and from America I came to-night.' And he asked how long did that journey take, and he said three-quarters of an hour,' and then he wentaway. And the comrade was never the better of it; either he got the touch, or the other called him, being such friends as they were, and soon he died. But the girl is now middle-aged, and is living in that house we're just after passing, and is married to one Bruen." Many and many are believed to come back to pay some debt, for as a woman at Gort, says "When someone goes that owes money, the weight of the soul is more than the weight of the body, and it can't get away till someone has courage to ques- tion it." Here is another story: A man had come back from Boston, and one day he was out in the bay, going to Arran with £3 worth of cable lie was after getting, in M'Donough's store, in Galway. And he Was steering the boat; and there were two turf boats along with him, and all in a minute the men in them saw he was gone, swept off the boat with a wave, and it a dead calm. And they saw him come up once, straight up as if he was pushed, and then he was brought down again and rose no more. And it was some time after that a friend of his in Boston, and that was coming home to this place, was in a crowd of people out there. And he saw him coining to him, and he said, "I heard you were drowned." And the man said, I am not dead, but I was brought here, and when you go home bring these three guineas ;to Michael M'Donough, in Galway, for its owed him for the cable I got from him. And he put the three guineas in his hand ind, vin:sli(,d away.

THE COMMONS AND CROMWELL. A debate took place in Parliament a few years ago on the proposal to erect a statue to Oliver Cromwell within the precincts of the House. In consequence of the opposition shown to the suggestion, it was dropped. Some time back, at the sale of Lord Revel- smoke's collection, a co-religionist. Mr. Charles Wer- theimer, acquired a fine, life'-sized bust of the great Protector, executed in marble, by a great artist of his tiine-Bernini. It occurred to Mr. Wertheimer (says the Jeioish Chronicle) that the House of Commons might be willing to compromise the question of a statue by the acceptance of a bust; and he accordingly offered his purchase as a free gift to Parliament, in recognition of Cromwell's kindness to the Jewish race. This offer was made last May to the Speaker, 'Mr. Gully, who placed the proposal before the propel quarters. The bust has now been placed inMr.Bak four's private room in the House of Commons for the inspection of members. I

Miss JESSIE WFRTHEIMER. of Cincinnati, has in- vented a commercial paper which excludes the possi- bility of forging names, or otherwise tampering with its face value. The invention has been sold to a New York firm for £ 6000. THE British soldier is frequently called a "lobster," and most people think it is on account of his red coat. The'following is another explana- tion In 1643 Sir William Waller, the Parliamen- tarian general, had sent to join his army a regiment of 500 horse, which were called by the King's party the Regiment of Lobsters," on account of the over- lapping plates of iron in which their bodies and limbs were encased. TIlE Rev. H. Elvet Lewis, of Llanelly, has accepted the pastorate of Hare Court Church, Canonbury, London, and will enter upon his new duties early in May. Mr. Lewis is a well-known preacher in Wales, and he is also a distinguished literateur. He has published several books of poems, and, was the chaired bard at the Wrrexham National Eistedfod. THE French town of Etarnpes is reported to have substituted the phonograph for the recording secre- tary at the meetings of the municipal council. Some of the councillors objected on the ground that all their little defects of om;ry WO\l td be registered by the apparatus, but the mujorky voted forgiving it a trial.

JOHN HARD'S DISAPPOINTMENT. my last climb, Ruth, lass," said Simon Kell to his daughter, with one of those unsettling chuckles which had been so common with him of late and he nodded towards the ladders and bit of a scaffold at the top of the spire of Cursham steeple. Dost love John Hard very much ?" The girl blushed, though there was no reason why she should blush at such a question from her father, especially as he knew well (and she knew that he knew) that she loved Hard. I do. father," she replied nevertheless. Then, with another chuckle, Simon remarked, You'll be sorry—mark my words;" adding, "the parson's given me the sexton's berth and the cottage, said I could have 'em if I liked, and I've thanked him kindly and said 'Done!' to it. But it'll not be for long. And now I'll see to the fixing of that vane." He went off to his workshop, leaving poor Ruth disconsolate in spite of her love for the young Ctirshv.m carpenter. She knew well what her father was driving at. John had made no secret about his interest in Simon's savings. He hoped to get his fingers among them early and start a small builder's yard in the town. But the thought revolted old Kell. who had coaxed John's scheme out of his daughter. It's a rare fine revenge I'm having," said Simon when he had shut the door of the shed and blocked the lower part of the window also folk passing in the churchyard might so easily have looked in." He took handfuls of gold from three of his pockets, new sovereigns all of it, and heaped the coins on a workbench. To the heap he then added a fat little roll of Bank of England notes. This done, he chuckled afresh as he viewed the pile. It's took me forty years to sweat it up," he ob- served almost plaintively, but," (this with vigour) I've not moiled an' toiled for the sake of an up- start village carpenter, whether he weds my girl or whether he don't." After these words he gasped. The doctor was right; he had neither breath nor power to spare. He turned to the new vane for Cursham steeple. It lolled skittishly against a bench, with its metal pennon rigid. This latter he now unfixed, disclosing the hollow rod, some four inches in diameter and five feet long. "There's more than enough room," he said, as he tossed the gold into the cavity. After the gold the notes. Then sand, provided for the purpose, until the rod was tightly packed. And, finally, the vane was refixed, fastened, and all was ready. I'd give summat like a week of what's left to me to know what it's history 11 be I" muttered Simon Kell, as he stood with a hand on the vane, before summoning his assistant. But this semi-romantic mood passed, and he opened the door and shouted across to a young man at the ropes at the spire's base Steve, come here!" The two of them hauled the clumsy piece of work, Simon himself saw it properly placed, also that the pulley ran smoothly; and then he took to the lad- ders alongside which the ropes ran. Foot by foot the weather-vane was then hauled upwards by; Steve Corvesor, while Simon ascended foot by foot with it. j Eventually it was landed safely on the summit platform. Here Simon was joined by his assistant, and between them they completed the work. By the evening Cursham steeple had its brand new weather- vane securely gripped by stone blocks, morticed with the utmost precision. You're making a fine good job of this 'un, Mr. Kell," said Steve Corvesor, as he watched his master's carefulness. "Ay—it's the last," said Simon; "youll have the trade all on your own shoulders after to-night. If only you'd got my lass with it I" J If but I had!" exclaimed Steve, giving way for once to open regret. Neither of them said any more on thia subject. It was too late in the day for that. John Hard had arranged for the banns to begin on the following Sunday. Both, Simon and Steve distrusted John Hard's disposition and were sorry for Ruth. There were times when Steve could with difficulty keep his hands off the arrogant young Cursham carpenter. A fortnight afterwards Simon Kell and his daughter were installed in the pretty ivy-Clad sexton's cottage at one corner of the churchyard. j Another week and Ruth left her father for the home John Hard had made for her. For Cursham it was decidedly an exciting marriage. The bride; looked pretty enough for anything and the bridegroom manly enough, yet there were several heads shaken I over it as well as those of the proverbially dismal gossips and Simon Kell and Steve Corvesor. Thus deserted (though the word is needlessly harsh), Simon seemed to fall away fast into old age, decrepitude, and senile chuckles. Tbey all knew what the doctor had said about him, for he told everyone who had ears to listen to him. He liked to see Steve, who was now the firm, and he liked to see Ruth; but be found joy in no one and nothing else And so he died. Her father's death touched Ruth two ways. She was very sorry to lose him, but for her husband's sake she looked forward now to the money for which (she knew it by this time) John Hard had married her. They had told her so already. Instead of money, however, they found merely a tremulous scrawl addressed to John Hard in these words: ■. You've made your own bed and now you can on it. I know your sort, Johnny Hard, and clever as you thinks yourself, youll be smart to find what you wants." That night John Hard thrashed his wife for the first time. It was the beginning of that tragic yet strangely attractive look in Ruth's eyes which put Steve Corvesor well-nigh beside himself whenever he met her. "A mean, spiteful, lying old curmudgeon 1" So did John Hard term his late father-in-law when he had succeeded in finding nothing indicative of .1 banked or indoor savings. The next five years were a time of sore trial to Ruth Hard and Steve Corvesor. j Even Ruth's children were but a poor consola- tion to her for a brutal husband. She had the pity of the whole village, but this also was a small matter. Steve continued to live at Cursham, though his work lay mostly at Whimpton, five miles away. And daily he too seemed to change under the trial that was changing his dead master's daughter. ( One day a great event happened. It did Steve good to think of it for months afterwards, when Ruth ^yas not in eight. i He and John Hard met casually in the meadow beyond the parsonage, and Steve could not resist the temptation to stop the carpenter, for he had seen tears in Ruth's eyes the last time he had said Good morning to her. I It'd do me good to try and give you a licking, you cowardly wretch!" he said with startling abrupt- ness. Try then retorted John Hard. ness. Try then retorted John Hard. They had the meadow to themselves at the outset, but after ten minutes a dozen villagers had collected to see the fun. j It, was grave earnest, however, and not fun at all. j The spectators knew as well as John Hard himself what it was all about, and they applauded all Steve's successful strokes. Another five minutes an<$Steve got in a terrific blow on the carpenter's lower jaw. This ended the fight. Hard Was carried homei groaning with a fractured bone. This was what Steve loved to remember. But not the words Ruth said to him next day. I'll never forgive you for your cruelty to my hus- the words Ruth said to him next day. I'll never forgive you for your cruelty to my hus- band,' she called at the Corvesor's house expressly to inform Steve. All the same, a woman's never (especially when she is young and comely) need not be held to be immutable. And so when John Hard died some 18 months afterwards-by no means because of the j fight-Steve put on the airs of a new man and little by little strove to convince Ruth that she owed it to II' herself to be happy at last. She resisted him for nine months and then cava way. You are so good, Steve," she said, that I will j dare telling you it is for the sake of the children, and not because I feel properly towards you. The old feelings that girls have before they marry have long been killed out of me." I'll take you as you are, my treasure, and be thankful," said Steve. He had full faith in his power to make Ruth love him, in spite of every- thing. And he succeeded, as he was bound to succeed. No wife could live with a husband like Steve with- out loving him sooner or later. 0 Steve Corvesor was five-and-thirty when he met with the accident that made him useless afterwards for steeple work. He was a leg short when he got up convalescent after it. Then, as it chanced, once more that little cottage at the churchyard corner became vacant. The new sexton had his own home and did not care for the cottage.. < "It will suit us, my girl," said Steve, "and 1 daresay something will turn, up soon. There's the accident pay for another nine months, and it'll be queer if I can't find some work for my hands." To the cottage they went, therefore, and on the very first, night of their installation, Ruth recurred to the subject of her father's savings. She had evidence of the withdrawal of over a fbous'ind pounds from the bank about a year befors the old man's death. "Never you fear," said Steve. If it's meant foi us it'll be found. If not. it's best where it is." They talked on, listening to the wind outside, which was fast swelling to a hurricane. When they were in bed the noise of the trees and the roaring in the chimney kept them both awake for long. The storm increased during the night. At twe o'clock it was at its worst, and it was then that a tre- mendous squall struck the church and blew off its crest as if this had been a thing of straw. The vane, with all its stem, was torn clean from the stone-work and hurled upon the roof of the cottage known as the sexton's. It crashed through this and lay broken in two on the floor of Ruth's and Steve's own bedroom. Ruth's first thought was for the children. She rushed to the baby in its cradle, and with a cry of gladness took it to her bosom. Then she ran in the darkness to the other children. They also were un- iBjured, and at her bidding turned after her into the other room. But Steve had meanwhile lighted a candle. He was staring at the sovereigns which littered the room. Whatever does it mean ?" stammered Ruth. Then the bank notes, still in the broken rod. caught Steve's eye. He pulled them out and saw Simon Kell's name on the back of the first of them. My girl!" he exclaimed, it's come at last. It's your father's money." There was little more sleep for Mr. and Mrs. Corvesor that night, and in the morning they counted up their godsend and found that they were the richer for their smashed roof by fourteen hundred and thirty-two pounds. Diligent sweeping made the total up to thirteen pounds more. The money did not make them happy, but it muck increased their happiness.

WOMEN IN JOURNALISM. Miss Elizabeth G. Jordan, of the Xcic York World, one of the best newspaper women in America, has written an exceedingly entertaining and novel little book entitled Tales of the City Room." It is a col- lection of newspaper stories, 10 in number, each of which deals with some typical incident in the life of the woman journalist in a great city, or some of the usual phases of life with which the reporter is con- stantly being brought into contact. A peculiar feature of these tales, taken from a field which the author has skilfully worked, is the vivid picture of a newspaper-woman's life, which is as varied as a kaleidoscope and as full of interest as its shifting pictures.

ENGLISH AND FRENCH WORKMEN. There are some very suggestive passages in the re- port on the trade of the Consular District of La Rochelle by Mr. Warburton, which has just been issued by the Foreign Office. A representative says The only change to report with regard to the sale of British goods is the continuous diminution of demand for them, owing to the increasing ten- dency to manufacture everything in the country in- stead of importing. Almost all goods of this class are now made in France of good quality and mode- rate in price, which is only what might have been expected, bearing in mind the great advantages they f>ossess for cheap production in much lower wages, onger hours of wrork, and absence of strikes or labour troubles. What the difference in hours and wages amounts to may be estimated by some instances from this dis- trict, where in the great shipbuilding and engineering establishments skilled workmen are being paid at the rate of from 24s. to 30s. per week with a day of 11 hours, without deduction for meals, and unskilled labourers only get from 16s. to P-I. Boiler-makers, fitters, metal founders, and moulders get from three- pence to fivepence per hour, and overtime is paid in all cases at the same rate as ordinary; as Much as six hours is sometimes worked beyond the ordinary day. the rule being that 24 hours' overtime has to be worked in each fortnight. It has been claimed that in large works the Eng- lish workman turns out in eight hours the same amount of work as the Frenchmen in 10. This. how- ever, is considered in well-informed quarters to be too favourable an estimate. I have heard of a gentleman who is going to test the matter, and has left England and set up his plant in France, where he expects by the lower wages, longer hours, and freedom from interference in the management of his works, to gain a material advantage with his auto- matic machinery." I

BOSTON'S GREAT DEBT. A special committee of inquiry into the municipal service of Boston reports as follows: We find extensive and pretty good service rendered, for which we pay more than we ought, but which, though it were procured with the best economy yet attained in this country, would still be so expensive that we should insist on charging its cost to posterity. We find a debt, appalling in size, after all proper deduc- tions have been made, and increasing at a tremendous rate, its size and its increase partly concealed by devices of book-keeping. Our debt, it seems, is much the greatest of our municipal dangers—a danger all the greater because it has been incurred with the approval of practically all our citizens and not chiefly through the wiles of a corrupt Government."

A NEW HALL FOR WESLEYANS. A public meeting was held at Exeter Hall to inaugurate the scheme for the erection of a central hall for the South London Wesleyan Mission in the neighbourhood of the scene of The Bitter Cry of Outcast London." The Rev. Dr. H. J. Pope pre- sided, in the absence of the Rev. Walford Green, the chairman of the district, who wrote expressing his sorrow at being forced to be absent, and saying the building of the hall was one of the most important steps taken in connection with London Methodism for the last 25 years. After the meeting had been opened with prayer, the Rev. J. H. Hopkins, one of the ministers of the mission, introduced the chairman, after which the Rev. H. T. Meakin, the other minister of the mission, expounded the scheme, saying it had been supported and forti- fied by a series of unanimous resolutions which had been passed by all the committees which had had to deal with it. The site for the hall was in Bermondsey, having on one side one of the poorest districts in London, and on the other side the working-class population of the neighbourhood. No neighbourhood could be better adapted for the pur- pose. The purchase price of the site was ESOOO, and the whole site was freehold. Here they proposed to build a hall to hold 2000 people, and to construct it on the most homely lines possible. Here they pro- posed to carry on the business of God every night, and proposed to make the entrance as attractive as the theatres made their entrances, or as the brewers and distillers made the entrances to their gin palaces. There would be also a smaller hall to hold about 700 people, which could be divided as wanted by moveable partitions, and class and recreation rooms. The meeting was also addressed by the chairman. Rev. W. L. Watkinson, Rev. Dr. Horton, Rev. T. Champ- ness, and Rev. S. Chadwick.

MR. CURZON'S FAR EASTERN POLICY. In view of the attitude which Mr. Curzon now takes up, as the mouthpiece of the .Government re- garding our policy in the Far East, it is interesting to recall his-views of the situation as recorded by him four years ago in the columns of the National Review: The inhabitants of a small island on the face of the northern seas, we exercise by the valour of our ancestors and the intrepid spirit of our merchants a controlling suffrage in the destinies of the Far East. That influence may, fortunately, be emp/oyed in the undivided interests of Peace. Friendly relations between ourselves and Japan will give to her that naval security which she so much needs, and to us 1 the continued command of the ocean routes. A I similar attitude towards China will strengthen her in a resistance, for which there is yet time, against the only enemy whom she has real cause to fear, and will facilitate our own commercial access to her ter- j ritories by land. Great as is the position which I have depicted as being enjoyed by Great Britain in the Far East. I believe that it will be greater still. The improve- ment of existing and the creation of new means of communication is rapidly developing a solidarity between the East and the West which our grand- parents would have deemed impossible. Fusion and not disintegration will be the keynote of the yrrogress oj the coming century. There remains now but few countries to which access has not already been gained; though there are several whose political stability is precarious, or whose political boundaries are not determined. As soon, however, as fixity can be predicated of either of these departments—much more. if of both-coromercial exploitation will begin. For this object British energy, British capital, and British experience, will be required. The Power which has been longest in the field, which enjoys the best geographical position for the distribution of its commerce, or the dissemination of its influence, and which can command the largest resources, must in- fallibly triumph in any such competition."

A COMMITTEE ot the members of the German Reichstag has been formed for the purpose of erecting a memorial to Moltke in Berlin. It in- cludes representatives of all parties except the Social Democrats.

READINGS FOR THE YOUKG. RESOURCE The King of all the Goblins lived in a lordly hall. And round his kitchen-garden was built a migh-y wall. Now go, my son, Hobgoblin, and call upon the King, And when you reach the portal, be sure you knoclc or ring. Hobgoblin gained the palace, and stood against the door; The knocker was above him a paltry foot or more. Hobgoblin placed his linger beside his little nose. And, lost in deep reflection, looked downward at his toes. Then slowly, sadly, homeward lie Iud, 11'" ,lfJ1Î way; "I could not reach the knocker, my dear papa, to-day." You tell me, dear Hobgoblin, thai when you souglit the King, You could not, reach the knocke)', but doubles; tried to ring?" Hobgoblin gave a sliiicider said ho. "I grieve to tell That, in my disappointment, I quite forgot the hell." The father Goblin sternly then called his 3-oungest son "Go wait upon our monarch before the day is done." Toward the palace portal young Goblin shyly came: The bell was far above him, the knocker was the same. No time for hesitation the sun was setting quick; So on the kingly portal he pounded with a stick. And when above the mountain the pleasant morning broke Young Goblin sought his homestead with treasure in his poke. "Now tell me." cried his father." what said the gracious King To such a tiny caller, too short to knock or ring?" "He said: 'Within the palace is much of wealthy store, tVhich is not meant for people who turn back at the door.' He said: The bell and knocker are purposely put high To keep away the people who haven't pluck to try.' He said: 'In his opinion 'twas quite a proper trick For one too short for knocking to call him with a sck. CAUGHT IN A TRAP. A duke was very fond of playing tricks on people. He went to a farmhouse one day and saw a woman making butter. He asked for a glass of milk, and while she was away fetching it, he picked up a cat and threw it into the churn. Now he was sorry the moment after. and he threw a sovereign into the churn to pay for the butter he had spoiled. About a month after, the duke called at the same house again, and began talking about butter, when he said Do you ever spoil your butter when you are making it ?" Not often, but somebody put a cat into the churn about a month ago, and I found it lying at the bottom of the churn dead, and I also found a sovereign lying against it; but I sold it to the duke's house, and they never complained. I wish the person who did it would do it again, because I should get both the sovereign and the butter money." I should think the duke did not know the butter went to his house, or he would not have put the cat in the churn.Schoolmistrcss. A PRISONER'S MOUSE. A prisoner caught a mouse in his cell in Holloway Prison. He did not kill it, but gave it some of the porridge which had been supplied for his supper. When he had made friends with the mouse, he taught it to perform many little tricks, and when he went out to take exercise in the prison yard he car- ried his little friend with him in his pocket. The story reached the governor, who, however, was too kind-hearted to order the man to give up the mouse. This privilege was much valued by the pri- soner, who, for a time, was unwell, and unable to leave his cell. The man and the mouse passed many hours together, and every day the little animal became more tame. It always appeared at breakfast-time, and re- ceived a share of the man's food, eating it out of his hand. Out of the small pieces of coloured matting the prisoner made his little friend a very pretty collar, and in many ways he showed his affection for his companion. During the daytime the mouse was busy cleaning itself with its paws, for mice are very clean animals. At length it would scarcely leave the man, and it came to know his voice so well that it would run to him in the darkness when lie called for,it. {« This is only one of the stories of many of the sagacity of animals.Onc Hundred Animal Stories. FIRE, IF YOU DARE t" In one of the Spanish-speaking towns in South America a British subject was arrested for joining in some local riot. He was condemned to be shot, and brought out before a file of soldiers for that purpose. The British and American Consuls protested against the act. Suddenly, just as the officer was about to give the word "Fire!" the British Consul rushed to the side of the condemned man, wrapped him in the British Union Jack." and exclaimed Fire. if you dare The American Consul also wrapped around him the Stars and Stripes," and stood on the other side. The result was that the arms were grounded, and the man delivered over to the British protection. The lesson we learn from this is that the sinner who believes in Jesus is saved by being covered with the robe of Christ's righteousness, for there is no con- demnation to them which are in Christ Jesus." He is redeemed with the precious blood of Christ, and protected as one of God's children.- Tra.rellcl's' Guide. THE LADY'S DREAM. About a hundred years ago some repairs were needed at the parsonage of Uxbridge. As the young bricklayer was going up the ladder with a hod of mortar, the clergyman's wife spoke to him. Good morning, Staines," she said I've had a dream about you." About me, ma'am < Why, whatever could it be about ?" "Well," she replied, laughing, "I dreamed you would become the Lord Mayor of London." Well, I never exclaimed the bricklayer, laugh- ing heartily in his turn; that's a very unlikely thing to happen I" Oh, of course it will not come true," the lady said, as she turned into her house. But she dreamed the same dream again; and as it greatly impressed her, she related it to the young bricklayer. He shook his head, thanked the lady for her kind wishes, but said he had no money or friends, and therefore was never likely to gain such wonderful promotion. He left the parsonage with no other impression than what had been made by the kind notice taken of him during his work. I do not know what passed in the subsequent years, but I find the same Staines did actually become Sheriff of London, after that Lord Mayor, and then was knighted as Sir William Staines. During his office of sheriff, he appointed the clergyman of Uxbridge, now an old man, to be his chaplain. I am disposed to think that the dream fulfilled itself, that it impressed the young brick- layer's mind, and induced the persevering industry and thrift which raised him at last to the dignity of chief magistrate of London City.—Sunshine. AN INTERVIEW WITII A BRUSH AND COMB. Aberdeen, in Scotland, is the place where all combs worthy of the name are manufactured. Of course, there are inferior ones to be had elsewhere, such as the miserable specimen you heard upstairs, harsh and brittle, and able to stand nowhere at all. But they are beneath notice. The finer kinds made in Aberdeen are of tortoise-shell (from the shell of the big tortoise found along the shores of the Indian Ocean), but they can be so exactly imitated in horn by the clever work- people that it would take very sharp sight to detect the difference. The way this is done is by dipping the horn into nitric acid, which stains it yellow at I once, and then the darker stain is made by red oxide I of lead, which women pour over the yellow horn in beautiful wavy lines. But perhaps you would like to hear how the horn for ordinary combs is prepared ?" I should indeed!" said I, settling myself cosily { among my cushions, and ready, in fancy, to be shown over a famous comb factory at Aberdeen. Well, the horns themselves, some of which are handsomely marked with grey and white, are procured from the Indian buffalo. The very best kind comes from Siam (you will remember that the king of that country visited England last year There are fine horns also obtained from South American oxen. But of whatever sort they are, they j are all cut into sizes with a circular saw. Then they are sent to the furnaces. In front of each furnace | stand a man and a boy, ready, after heating, to cut the flattened born into the shape that is wanted for the comb. The boys at the factory are very useful and quick. Then the horn is pressed and dried, and after this the teeth are cut..Again it is a boy that I helps the man who works the 'twining' machine. And the twining machine is the most fascinating of all the machines to watch. Quicker than quick it turns out the horn in two pieces, the one comb cut clean out of the other. Then, the teelli are smoot,liec! and rounded, and grailled hy means of rasps. Nc little care has been expended, you see, in makim even the simplest comb pleasant and easy in use.'

GARDENING GOSSIP. (From Gardening ,riie PA!,III,Y contains several gems, conspicuous amongst which, are S. ariajfolia (the shrubby Meadow Sweet), with its feathery plumes of white flowers; S. Thtinberlmi, S. Douglasi (Douglas's Spine), S. Bella, and Anthony Waterer's variety of S. Bumalda. The deciduous Daphnes are beautiful early-fiowering shrubs. The fragrant flowers are succeeded in summer by red and orange-coloured berries. One variety, named D. Mezereum grandiflora. flowers in October. To do the Daphnes justice they should be transplanted about exerv fourth year, and the best time to do it is immed a elv after the fall of the leaf, as root action comm nc s early in the new year. Viburnum Tinus (Laurusimus) should be included on account of its freedom in bloom during the sunless days of winter. The Japanese Wych Hazel (Hamamelis arborea) is the most showy and curious of hardy shrubs, or small trees, whose flowers appear in January and February. The long. narrow twisted petals are of the richest yellow. This is the tallest growing shrub we have mentioned, or intend to mention, and it is included in this list more on account of its rarity and the time at which its flowers are borne. THE Busii HONEYSUCKLES are as beautiful in bloom as they are free in growth. Weigela Eva Ratlike, W. Candida, W. Hortensis Nivea, and W. Abel Carriere are the best varieties. W. Looymansi Aurea has rich golden- yellow leaves, and is very effective when planted in dry soils. Nuttallia Cerasiformis bears freely its drooping racemes of greenish-white flowers in February. The small-leaved Mock Orange (Phila- delphus Microphyllus) is of neat growth and very free flowering. P. Lemoinei is of slightly taller habit, and exceptionally free in bloom. P. Coronarious is a very ornamental, yellow-leaved kind. and retains its colour well, even when planted in shady spots. The Mexican Orange-flower (Choisya Ternata) is one of the most exquisite of fragrant-flowered shrubs. It is of bushy growth, and very attractive even when out of flower. The shrubby Honeysuckles should find a place where early-flowering shrubs, and especially where sweet-scented flowers are valued. Two of the very best kinds to grow are L. fragrantissima and L. Standishi. Ceanothus Gloire de Versailles pro- duces an abundance of pretty blue flowers. C. divaricatus, C. americanus (New Jersey Tea-plant), C. Arnoldi, and C. Marie Simon are also meritorious kinds. The charming Winter Sweet (Chimonanthus fragrans) is one of the most delightful of mid-winter flowering shrubs. Though not particularly showy, the small, sweet-scented flowers are produced with much freedom. THE JAPANESE SNOWBALL-TREE produces large trusses of snow-white blossoms. Prunus sinensis and P. triloba are amongst the most useful and beautiful of hardy shrubs. Veronica Traversi, Genista of sorts, Garrya elliptica, and Ligustrum japonicum are easily grown ornamental shrubs. Yucca recurva is very graceful and attrac- tive planted either singly or several plants together in circular beds. The Thready Adam's Needle (Y. filamentosa) is distinct and handsome. Its erect spikes of flowers are pretty. Pyrus (Cydonia) japonica and its beautiful forms are worthy of attention, as they are free flowering and of simple culture. Deutzias, Forsythia suspensa, Lilacs, and the Snow-flower (Chionanthut virginicus), should not be omitted. The New Zealand Daisy-bush (Olearia Haasti), flowers towards the end of summer. Its Hawthorn-scented flowers are white, and borne freely. Hypericum oblongi- folium, H. patulum, and H. Moserianum are the best of the St." John's Worts. Rhododendron prcecox adds colour to the dull shrubbery during February, while the broad-leaved Mountain Laurel (Kalmia latifolia) bears very freely its dense clusters of rose- pink flowers from May to July. Kalmia angusti- folia is of dwarfer habit and even freer than K. lati- folia. ROOM PLANTS. Great care should be taken in watering room- plants. The temperature of the water should never be below that of the room. When it is given, the plants should have a thorough soaking then the soil should be allowed to become almost dry before another watering is given. Constant driblets of water result in the top layer of soil being always moist, while the rest becomes dust-dry, and the roots which it contains perish. In very cold weather plants should be removed from the win- dows at night before the room is vacated, and a newspaper spread over the tenderest; this will be found a great protection against damage by frost. Foliage plants should have their leaves sponged with tepid water regularly once a week. Plants breathe through the leaf-pores, and if these become clogged a bad state of health neces- sarily ensues. It is sometimes said that room-plants should never be plunged over the rim of the pot in water. I have, however, never found any detri- mental effects arise from the practice of this custom. When good-sized Palms have become nearly dry at the roots it is difficult to thoroughly soak the mass of soil by any other means without removing the plants from the room but if a tub of tepid water is brought in the pot may be lowered into this and allowed to remain in it until every particle of soil has become saturated. Then, after being allowed to drain, it may be returned to its position and treated in the same manner when the soil has again almost dried out. Palms are often ruined through maid-servants, when engaged in dusting the room, lifting them by the stems. A long stem forms a convenient handle, and obviates the necessity for stooping. One day the pot falls to the ground, leaving the plant, with its ball of roots, suspended by the stem from the maid's hand. The crocks used for drainage have probably fallen out; but their purpose being an enigma to the domestic mind, they are consigned to the oblivion of the dust-pan, and the roots are hur- riedly crammed back into the pot. Naturally, this treatment is not conducive to the well-being of the plant, which resents it by exhibiting symptoms of ill- health. Directly such signs are noticed an examination of the roots should be made. and the drainage restored if it should be found missing. If plants have been lifted out of their pots a slight interstice is generally discernible between the earth and the pot. This allows the water to escape without thoroughly moistening the soil, and is, in its way, as detrimental as the absence of drainage. A pinch of some fer- tiliser scattered on the surface of the soil occa- sionally during the summer, and wi i>red in, wrill tend to strengthen the plants and keep them in good health. THE PINKS. The Pinks form a charming family of plants, for the most part easily grown, rich and varied in colour, many of them sweet-scented, evergreen, and lasting long in flower. The family contains less than 100 species, of which the greater part are European, while a few are found in temperate Asia and Africa. In England we have six species, and they have been very old garden favourites. Old writers can scarcely find words to express their admiration of them.. The names were all expressive, and many of them have stood their ground for more than 400 years, such as Pinks, Carnations, Cloves, Gilliflowers, Sweet Wil- liams, and Picotees. The Pinks, like most alpines from high elevations, are essentially moisture-loving plants, and during spring and summer moisture must be given in such a way as to interfere as little as possible with the tufty crowns. Moisture about the neck or a stagnant soil is almost certain death. Another essential to success is that the roots should be kept cool during the hot summer months, and this can only be done by burying stones inclined at about 45deg., so as to give the roots an opportunity to get out of the way of drought, &c. The wireworm seems to be the deadliest enemy of this handsome group, and when an affected tuft is found, the only plan is to lift it, wash off all the soil, and replant it again in a fresh mixture. In this way we have saved nume- rous tufts of D. alpinus, which in the south seems most liable to its ravages. The Alpine Pink (D. alpinus) is a somewhat rare and very beautiful species, scarcely ever met with doing well under cultivation, unless in the north of England and Scotland. Our summers in the south do not seem to suit it very well, and although we get a wealth of foliage and of a rich green hue, the plants always flower sparingly. Plants in pure well-decayed leaf-soil always are healthiest and flower the most freely. D. alpinus seems to require plenty of moisture, and may be grown as near the ground levej as possible, if water be not handy to give it periodical drenchings. The more exposed the position the sturdier and healthier will be the clumps, and the more chance of a good show of lovely large deep rose- crimson spotted flowers. It forms dense masses, and may be increased readily by division, although we prefer propagation by seeds, which it rarely fails to ripen. There are several forms of D. Alpinus in culti- vation at the present time, notably one called Tener, a much more useful plant in the south at any rate, as it never fails to yield abundance of flowers, which, though smaller and not so bright, are produced in such profusion as to make it an acquisition. The best of this class, however, was distributed as D. glacialis, and is probably a hybrid between the two. The plant is altogether dwarfer, while the flowers, which arc of a bright deep rose, are borne in rich profusion, and are nearly as large via those of D. alpinus. It must not be confounded with the true Glacier Pink, which is, however, a near ally.

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