The Merthyr Express

JUs- It stands to reason | gjll that such a pare Corn Flour as Brown I VV and Polson's Patent," made into hot t w m baked or boiled puddings, etc., with I :M pore fresh milk is wholesome and I m nourishing. a .1 m Therefore eat and enjoy it daily. m Stewed figs, prunes, etc- give variety. M t Many recipes in each packet ol g t Brown & Polson"s "Patent" Corn Flour l

POET'S CORNER. SNOWDROPS. Dainty, fragile, fairy bells, Growing sweet in nooks and dells; Darling of the early spring, Witching, bonny, graceful thing. Stay with us awhile, we pray, Teach us lessons day by day; Many things we'd learn from thea In thy spotless purity. Tell us, little blossom fair, Whisper softly on the air— Would you, had you but the power, Choose to be a summer flower? 'Mid the wind's low mournful sigh, Clearly comes the brave reply— "No, I'm well content to be In the place God meant for me." EILEEN CARPRAE. SILVER AND GRAY. Silver the shine of the moon on the wave, Burnished the path of the light on the sea, Gray looms the shore where the tides gently lave, Lichened the walls of the church by the quay, Silver and gray. Silver the catkins on willow-tree shake, Lonely the graves midst the whispering grass, lover the stem of the birch in the brake, Eerie the cry of the gulls as they pass- Silver and gray. Hope for the morrow, though dark be the hour; Get thee try trappings, why garb ye in gray? Courage keep always when battle-clouds lower, Silver a broadsword to wield in the fray- Silver and gray. J. JOHNSTON SMITH.

HER VENGEANCE BY B. R. P I] II O N U FF. Author of "The Choice," "The Spin of the Coin," etc., etc. CHAPTER XXI.-A METAMORPHOSIS. To Hugh and to his uncle it was a weird ex- perience enough, this ride in the night over the level prairie, beneath the clear star-strewn fcky, the faint darkness around them, in front Dodd's heavy figure motionless on the seat from which he drove. The intense silence of the great prairies was broken only by the sound of the horses' hoofs as they trotted steadily on, end only at long intervals did they catch sight! of a light gleaming in the windows of some isolated farm. "You will have to hold on tight here," said Dodd, turning presently in his seat; there is a steep ravine coming. I must see all is safe and tight." He got out of his wagon, and began to whistle tome merry tune, loud and shrill in the huge night. Apparently he found something wrong, for he came back to the side of the wagon, mut- tering something about wanting a candle. He foana one, and lighted it and held it up in the air above his head. The soft night breeze extinguished it. He lighted it and held it up again, higher than before, and Hugh leaned over the side of the wagon. "Why are you holding that so high" he ask- ed; "one might suppose you were signalling." Dodd dropped the candle with a curse, and put his foot upon it. "You can do what you like," he said with many oathe; "jump out and walk.away back to town if you don't like it." "Shall we?" said W<n-h to his uncle; "it would be wisest, I think." "When we are nearly at our destination? Don't be a fool," retorted Mr Hetherington obstinately, so obsessed by his dreams of manu- facturing diamonds that he had no thoughts for anything else nor any heed for warnings or suspicious occurrences; "go back indeed. What are you thinking of? Mr. Dodd, please drive on—we are only wasting time." "Look." said Hugh, and thought he saw an answering light flash out far ahead, but it vanished in a moment, and when his uncle looked he saw nothing. "What is the matter with you?" Mr. Hether- ington grumbled crossly, "do try to ph 1 bit." look here," said Dodd, aggressively, "if we are going on, that fellow has got to keep a civil tongue, or else me and him will scrap. "Oh, we will!" Mr. Hetherington promised easjerly. "All the same." said Hugh, "there is some- one following us." "Now you are lying," said Dodd. But even as he spoke, they all heard the sound of horse's hoofs, approaching the way they themselves had come. "Do you know who it is" asked Hugh, look- ing suspiciously at Dodd. At that Mr. Hetherington jumped out of the wagon with a show of agility no one would have grven. him credit for, and promptly collared "Have you bsen selling up?" he said fiercely. "I know no more than you who it is," said Dodd, without appearing to resent this, or making any attempt to free himself; "just you shut up and listen Hugh had jumped down from the wagon, too. "If you have been up to anything." he said quietly to Dodd, "I shall wring your neck." "Don't be a fool," retorted Dodd, "and make this other fool leave liold of me. Or else you draw the wagon out of the trail behind that bluff." He pointed to a group of poplars on their left hand. "Then come here, and we will watch and see who it is; likely enough it is iust some fellow on his way home after a whis- Key spree—but it is possible What was possible he did not say. but grew silent while Hugh led the horses behind the bluff, where he made them fast, and returned to the side of the trail, where he crouched down beside his uncle and Dodd. Nearer came the sound of the horse, driven tet a gallop; the light buggy it drew fairly bounded on the trail. "They must slow down here," said Dodd in a whisper, "this rough ground, and it will give us a chance to see." In fact, near where they waited, the buggy drew up sharply, and one of its occupants jump- ed down with a lighted lamp in his hand. "Hannah!" said Mr. HetheringtoD in a hoarse whisper, as the light of the lantern shon4 era the face of the man carrying it; "it is Hannah," and his face flushed darkly with anger and indignation. "The road dips here, my lord," they heard Hannah's voice saying "I think this will b" that ravine we were warned of; perhaps'I had better lead the horse across?" "Very well," answered another voice two of the unseen listeners at once recognised as be- longing to Lord Ambrose Boustead "Hi. hi!" shouted Mr. Hetherington, sud- õenly losing his grip on Dodd, and rushing for- ward. Hannah turned quickly, holding up his lan- tern, b,ut before he understood what was hap- pening the millionaire was upon him and had knocked hi mhead over heels. "Hullo!" cried Lord Ambrose, "what is all this?" and he leaned down from his seat to see what was happening. "You villain, you thief, you, come out of that," cried Mr. Hetherington, and seized him by the collar of his coat as he stopped, and fairly pulled him neck and crop from his seat to fall sprawling on the ground. The horse, startled by these violent proceed- ings, jumped forward, and Mr. Hetherington at once exploded into a yell—horrible, piercing, unique-so that it is no wonder the animal went off at a gallop, vanishing in the darkness at a speed that seemed to suggest it did not in- tend to pause that side of the Canadian border. "Well, I am blessed!" said Dodd in amaze- ment, "who would have thought the old man had all that get up to him?" "Come back to the wagon," said Mr. Hether- incton, running towards them. This seeming the wisest course to pursue, the three men ran at the best of their speed to the bluff, where Hugh had hitched the horses to a convenient poplar. They tumbled in, Dodd snatched the reins, and in a moment they were off, followed by cries of raere and wild sum- monses to stop that came from the darkness behind them, and by a sound of running to and fro as Lord Ambrose and Hannah, picking themselves up, realised what had happened, and set off in a wild and hopeless pursuit, first of Dodd's wagon, and next of their own buggy, which was already fully a mile away aesar's ghost," chuckled Dodd, turning to look admiringly at Mr. Hetherington, "that was slick, that was!" Mr. Hetherinjrton was breathing hard. and his face was still flushed with indignation. "What did they want?" he demanded, "com- ingr prying into my affairs, trying to see what they can get for themselves; one could hardly believe such people existed out of gaol; think 1 they would like a share in the diamonds, I suppose." "Diamonds? What diamonds?" asked Dodd wonderingly. "Eh? Oh, nothing )., answered Mr. Hether- ington, and then Hugh heard him whisper to himself: "All the kingdoms of the world, and the fflory of them." "Oh, well." said Dodd, turning to his horses, "it was real slick, and I didn't think you had it in you, and if them two fellows chase their horse and buggy that way, they'll get pretty badly lost. It's real bad land over there for miles—not much water, and nary a farm nor nothing." Having delivered himself of this opinion, Dodd became occupied with his horses, and said no more. Hr. Hetherington sank into his own thoughts of diamonds, and their manufacture; of all that that great secret, meant; of such wealth as few human beings have ever dreamed of, all concentrated in his hands; of his power spread far over the earth till there should hardly be his equal in the whole world. "And Delia," EHid to himself. "Delia is getting over her for Hugh very nicely, I believe, and—well, if an American heiress can be in the running for the Italian throne, where need Delia fear to aim, when she has such wealth and power behind her as this secret will give us?" But at that moment Delia, lying1 awake in her bed at the hotel, was thinking neither of principalities and powers, nor of Hugh. but only of the small, calm-eyed young man who had retaliated so disconcertingly on her out- breaks of temper. Delia had a curious notion that if she were much with such a man, losing one;6 temper would soon pall as an amusement. Then she made up her mind she would like to kill him, but could not hide from herself that the early death of this young man would ap- pear to her as a great misfortune. As for Hugh, his thoughts were busy neither with thoughts of wealth, nor with dreams of power, nor yet with Delia, nor of Lord Am- brose and his man chasing their runaway horse through the darkness, and probably get- ting hopelessly lost, nor 6ven of the danger- ous errand they themselves were engaged on. Instead, it was of Eira that he dreamed, and of the look he hoped would grow upon her face when she saw him approach. This was his dream, and to realize it he would have fac- ed a thousand times greater dangers; and now he dreamed it as his uncle dreamed of diamonds bigger than the world has known, and as another, an old man not now far away, dreamed of a dead son whose spilt blood still cried unavailingly to heaven. While as for Eira herself, she was sound asleep, having fallen into a mood of resigna- tion, and believing that the past chapter of her life was closed for ever. Dodd turned in his seat. "We are nearly there?" he said; "can you See that light?" They looked, and far away saw a small light twinkling, raised, as it seemed, some little dis- tance above the level of the prairie. "That is Noah's light, that is," said Dodd; "when you see that, you know he is working away at his inventions." With mingled feelings, the two Englishmen saw this light shining out over the lonely prai- ries; this light that marked the end of their journey, that marked the scene of the coming great experiment which might mean so much to the whole world. A touch of awe, as it were, affected them both, as they contemplated that faint light shining over the silent, immemorial prairies of this far northern land, the beacon of a man's audacious hope to make diamonds as easily as nature herself made them in those tremulous days when the whole earth was but a flaming laboratory for her to perform her experiments in. "It's a little light, that," said Mr. Hether- ington under his breath. "Enough for us," said Dodd, just catching his words. It was not often Hugh felt himself much stirred by the first object of their expedition. These diamonds by the bushel were not for him; he was not the Sinbad who, having pene- trated the valley, was to fill bis pockets there; but even he thrilled at the sight of that soli- tary lamp, and imagined to himself how far its rays would reach, how dazzling its illumination would become, if but that his uncle's dreams came true. He was losing, too, a good deal of the sense of danger that had oppressed him till now; or, if not losing it. he was at any rate learning to disregard it. For the first time he understood how it was that his uncle pressed on so heed- lessly, caring nothing for warnings, disregard- ing every precaution, heedless of all that was suspicious, obsessed by his dream of diamonds- diamonds. "All the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them," he heard his uncle whisper un- der his breath, and it seemed to Hugh that something of the ardour of the chase entered into his own blood. "Here we are." said Dodd, drawing up before a small building, just visible in the faint dark- ness of the night; "jump out, this is my shanty. Get in as quick as you can, for if anyone sees you. and sees you are white, we shall be done for." Jumping down, he hurried them into a small house of the ordinary prairie type. consisting of one large living room with a lean-to behind and an attic overhead. It was furnished roughly enough with a big cooking stove in the middle of the room, and some wooden chairs, and a table under the window. There was a blind to the window, and Dodd drew it before he lighted he lamp. "Wouldn't do to be seen," he explained; "not till you have turned yourself into nig- gers." He made the door fast, and showed them a ladder at one side of the room, giving access to the attic above. He climbed this, bidding them follow him, and they found themselves in a bare apartment with sloping sides, just under the high roof of the shanty. Up here there was no furniture at all. though four bunks had been arranged, two along each side of the room, at each end of which there was a win- dow. These had no window blinds, and Dodd proceeded to cover them with newspapers, and then from under one of the bunks ha drew a tin bath. "There you are," he said. "I'll go and get some water, and that bottle of dye stuff old Noah gave me." He disappeared through the trap door and down the ladder, and presently returned with a pail of water, and a small bottle of a clear, sparkling liquid. "I'll get some more water," he said, "then you can each have a pailful; you will have to change these store clothes, too, they would never do for a brace, of niggers." He vanished again, and Hugh took up the bottle he had brought and looked at it. "Are you going through with this" he said. of course," declared Mr. Hetherinsr- ton. plainly astonished at he question: "I w-euld do and risk a good deal more than that to get a chance to be present at such an ex- periment. Wouldn't you?" He poured the water into the bath and add- rd a few drops from the bottle according to Dodd's directions, and then stripped and step- ped in. The effect was extraordinary. The moment his toes touched the water they seemed to absorh from it some curio property of blackness, growing instantaneously black at the first contact. Sitting down in the bath he rubbed himself all over and then stepped out again, every inch of his body as black as any negro's. "By Jove," he said, looking a little frighten- ed. "that is queer stuff." Hugh followed his example and stepped out as black as he With every inch of their nak- ed skins shining and black, Hugh and his un- cle looked oddly at each other. "Nobody would believe we were white men now." said Hugh; "not if we swore we were." "So much the better." said Mr. Hethering- ton laughing, and Hugh laughed, too, touched by something comic in the situation. So they laughed together, for indeed they knew not what they did. CHAPTER XXII.—THE MAN WITHOUT A NOSE. In addition to this disguise of their darkened skin that Hugh and his uncle had adopted, Dodd had provided them with clothing less cal- culated to attract attention than that made by first-class London tailors which they had hitherto been wearing "Gosh," exclaimed Dodd, when he returned presently to the attic to see how they had been getting on. "Gosh," he repeated, admiring their black skin, which, together with the rag- ged straw hats, the untidy clothing, the flan- nel shirts, and the heavy boots they had assum- ed, had turned them into very natural-looking negro labourers, "gosh, I would not have known you myself for white men. It's terrible," he said, shuddering, and, to Hugh's fancy, there was something like horror in his eyes as he spoke. He told them they must be careful not to wash for fear of the colouring matter on their skins "running," and then he suggested they had better get a little rest as it was already past three in the morning, and they were to be presented to Mr. Siddle at ten o'clock. They lay down as he suggested, but neither of them slept, for now that the moment was so near Mr. Hetherington's imagination was on fire with dreams of diamonds of a brilliance incompara- ble and of a size such as mortal eyes had never yet beheld. And Hugh thought of Eira, and wondered if she would know him in his present guise. Soon after eight o'clock Dodd called them and they went downstairs and had breakfast. Dodd would net let them wash for fear of their spoiling their disguise, so they had to be con- tent with a rub with a dry towel, Dodd re- marking smilingly that they had no need to be particular as the dirt would not show on their present complexions. It was a brilliantly fine day, the sun shining with great power, and going out on the little, verandah in front of the house they had for the first time a view of the place to which they had at last come, after so lonp a journey and on so strange an errand. It seemed a lonely

0 f icious s COCOAO ¡

FUN AND FANCY. Customer: "Here, I say, landlord, what do mean charging me 10s. a day, and me a commercial traveller?—Landlord: "A thousand apologies, I took you for a gentleman." The waitress knew a thing or two about table '<qette, so she sniffed scornfully as she said: "Iv is not our custom to serve a knife with pk.—"Then bring me an axe," was the man's reply. Weary (lying under an apple-tree): "I say, rr ister, kin I have one of dem apples?"—Farm- er: "Why, them apples won't be ripe for four months yet."—Weary: "Oh, dat's all right, I ain't in no hurry. I'll wait." 'Did you tell that man who is round photo- graphing for the newspaper that you didn't want your picture taken?"—"Yes," answered the eminent but uncomely personage.—"Did he take offence?"—"No. He said he didn't blame me." "How did you get money to buy paint to finsh your big picture?" asked a sympathetic intimate of a struggling artist.—"Pawned my coat."—"Oh! And how much did you get for your picture?"—"Just enough to get my coat ou* "Mary, I wish you would be more careful," said the master of the house to a servant. "I am very sorry to hear your mistress scold you o often."—"Oh, don't you mind me, sir re- plied the maid. "I don't take any notice of it!" Wifie: "Did you poet that letter I gave you?" —Hubby: "Yes, dear, I carried it in my hand, I couldn't forget it, and I dropped it in the first box. I remember because "—Wifie: "There, dear, don't say any more. I didn't give you any letter to post." "Physical culture, father, is perfectly lovely. To develop the arms I grasp this rod by end and move it slowly from right to left."—"Well, well," exclaimed her father; "what won't science discover? If that rod had straw at tho other end you'll be sweeping." As the house physician was walking through a hospital ward, one of the patients called to him.—"Doctor," he cried, "I wish vou'd move me out of this here ward." "Why 710 asked the doctor.—Well, this feller next to me keeps fL- drinking all my cod-liver oil!" waa the next reply. The late Judge Silas Bryan, the father of William J Bryan, once had several hams stolen from his smoke house. He missed them at onoe, but said nothing about it to anyone. A few days later a neighbour came to him. "Say, Judge." he said. "I heard yew had some hams stole t'other night."—"Yes," replied the Judge, very confidentially, "but don't tell anyone. You and I are the only ones who know it." A number of privates were waiting anxiously in the canteen for news of the regimental team who were playing in a football cup final. The orderly-room runner entered hurriedly. He was asked whether he had heard the result of the match. "Yes," he said. "the regiment's one." There was loud and prolonged cheering. "Yes, my boys," the runner continued, "tho regi- ment's one, and the others is three."

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS, "FIDDLE-DEE-DEE!" There once was a bird that lived up in a tree, And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-deo!" A very provoking unmusical song For one to be whistling the summer day long; Yet always contented and busy was he With that vocal recurrence of "Fiddle-de^-dee!" Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four: That weird iteration annoyed him so sore, "I prithee, dear mother mine! fetch me my gun, For, by oar St. Didy, the deed muet be done: That shall presently rid all creation and me Of that ominous bird and his 'Fiddle-dee-dee!' Then out came Dear-Mother-Mine, bringing her son His awfully truculent little red gun; The stock of pine and the barrel of tin; The "bang" it came out where the bullet went in— The right kind of weapon, I think you'll agree, For slaying all fowl that go "Fiddle-doe-dee!" The brave little soldier quoth never a word, But he up and he drew a straight bead on that bird; And while that vain creature provokingly sang, The gun it went off with a terrible bang. Then loud laughed the youth, "By my bottle!" cried he, "I've put a quietus on Out came then Dear-Mother-Mine, saying, "My son, Right well have you wrought with your little red gun! Hereafter no evil at all need I fear, With such a brave, soldier as You-My-Love She kissed the dear boy. The bird in the-tree Continued to whistle his "Fiddle-dee-des!" —Eugene Fields. ONLY A BABY SMALL. Only a baby small', Dropped from the skies; Only a laughing face. Two sunny eyes. Only two cherry lips, One chubby nose; Only two little hands, Ten little tees.. Only a golden head, 1 Curly and soft; Only a tongue that wags Loudly and oft. Only a little brain, < Empty of "thought; • Oniy a iittJe heart, Troubled with naught. I Only a tender flower: j Sent us to ?ear; j Only a life to love j Whii we are here. i. a baby smail, lu.'t hi:v/ dear tc us, God kaowetb beat. 1I;}¡t".j:' J 0'

FOR MATRON AND MAID. COURTING GLOOM. It would not matter so much if the woman who is determined always to see the dark sid:) of things would but distort her own vision only, then she would not be dangerous to any but her own happiness. But she is not content to impugn horrid motives in everything, that is done for her and around her, but she does not irest until all her world sees as crookedly as sho does. If one must believe that the world is topsy- turvy, that truth and good faith and honesty are unknown attributes, that life is thinly ven- eered corruption, at least let her keep her views to herself. Why should she be allowed to dis- turb the trust of her neighbours? ENTERTAIN AT MEALS. Where nourishment and health are concern- ed, laughter and goodwill are vigorous pro- moters of the digestive functions. The Court jester was a valuable piece of dining-room ftir- niture in olden times, and a, good-natured and cheerful guest who keeps up a lively and enter- taining conversation at table docs more to aid digestion than any medicine swallowed after- wards. SHUTTING OUT ANNOYANCES. It pays for a. woman to make herself as com- fortable as she can. There is no falser idea than that there is virtue in putting up with whatever comes our way. The girl with such views usually has a sorry lot to put up with. It is not selfish to cut out annoyances. Gen- erally it means the highest good for those who must live with us. The woman who can be fretted and not vent it on someone else, either actively or unknowingly, is so rare that for the peace of her friends she should cease to be annoyed if within her power. BABY'S LITTLE WAYS. Give baby a fair show, says a cursory on- looker, and if can smash more dishes than the most industrious maid-of-all-work I It can keep a family in a oonstant turmoil j from morning till night, and night till morn- ing, without one? varying its tone. It can be relied upon to sleep peacefully all day when its father is away at work, and cry j persistently at night when he is particularly I! sleepy. It may be the naughtiest, dirtiest, ugliest, most fretful baby in the whole world, but you can never make its mother believe it, and you. had better not try it. I' It can be a charming a.nd model infant when no one is around, but when visitors are present it can exhibit more bad temper than both of its I parents put together. LINGERING IN A RUT. I Women are very apt to suffer greatly through I' the breaks that occur in their friendships, are not like men, who, in active business life, are never at a loss for companionship. They find it more difficult to form acquaintanceships, I and lack the initiative—what might be called I the executive faculty—to branch out into new paths socially, and virtually create new circum- stances. And this is exactly what is necessary when certain phases of environment pross upon a woman, and she goes on weakly day after day enduring conditions that often, with one big wrench, she might cast off, and go on her way lightened of a load that nothing but custom has caused her to carry. This re men j requires courage, but it is the only one to apply to certain cases. FASHIONABLE BLOUSES. The collars of some have frills top and bottom. A little bow in front suggests tho tie. Crossing with a curve from right to left fronts Crossing with a. curve from right to left fronts fasten with loops and buttons. The puff at the elbow suggests a leg of mutton sleeve upside down. A quite deep cuff comes with this sleeve. Knots of beads and tiny tassels dotf the sur- face of some lace yokes. Waistbelts are sometimes deep and supple, and at others a narrow firm band. The tailored shirt blouse has a frill of lace around the top of the collar. This lace extends down a. side, fastening half- way to the waist. i The frill is repeated on the deep cuffs of the blouse. j Striped materials are bordered with bands of plain stuffs. ■ Square yokes, quite small, are outlined with embroidery, and with wide silken braid. Military tabs in braid adorn some of the j blouses in the finest of materials. A full flower sleeve of chiffon is seen to j emanate from a very close top sleeve of moire, j BretteUs of rich embroidery with tassellcd j ends are smart on fancy blouses. A close-fitting cape-like piece of moire heads some of the smartest styles in chiffon. Bands of beaded lace bar long shirt fronts on straight down blouses. > HINTS FOR THE HOME. j For an Umbrella Stand.—When the umbrella i bottom leaks or gets shabby, take a piece of j linoleum, cut to the size of the bottom, and fix «»• | A good hint for those who do their own j paperhanging is to apply the paste to the wall instead of the paper. Amateurs will find it much easier to match the pattern, and the j paper is less liable to tear. It is not generally known butterclotha < sold at provision shops can be made into useful i articles, such as pinafores, pillow-cases, little white shirts, at the small outlay of a penny or twopence each. French Jumbles.— £ lb. floor, lib. sugar (brown), £ lb. butter, three eggs. Dissolve one I teaspoonful of carbonate soda in half a cupful I of milk, add to the other ingredients, also the nutmeg grated. Mix all well together, roll out very thinly, cut in rounds, and bake in very quick oven. A Delicious Vegetable Dish.—Buy a large cucumber, wipe it with a damp cloth, but do not skin it, then put into boiling water and cook until tender. Take out, and have ready two bits of buttered toast in vegetable dish. Cut cucumber into bits about 2in. long, leav- ing skin on, which gives delicious flavour of I asparagus. Serve very hot with melted or oiled I butter. Haricot Pie.A cheap but tasty pie can be made by soaking half a pound of haricot beans overnight, then boiling in the usual way. Grease a piedish, and put in a layer of beans. Season with pepper and salt, and sprinkle with a little minced onion. Then add a layer of I hard-boiled egg, then another layer of beans, I and some sliced tomatoes. Over all pour a little thick gravy. Cover with short crust and bake. ) To Enamel Gilt Frames.—This can be taste- fully done by dissolving a stick of sealing-wax in spirits of wine to the consistency of paint, which may then be laid on to the frames with a soft brush. This is a simple, but effective process. Of course, sealing ?wax of any colour may be used, and the quantity of the solution to be made must depend upon the size of the article treated, and the smoother the surface of this ie, the better it will look after the enamelling. CAKES AND PUDDINGS.—No. 17. This week's recipe is for Oatmeal Parkin. If made according: to the instructions, there will be no hard lumps, and the result will be a really nice parkin which everyone will like. OATMEAL PARKIN. 1 packet of Cakeema. 1 lb. medium cut Oatmeal. teaspoonfuls of ground Ginger and Spice mixed. lb. Butter or Lard. 1 teacupful of Syrup or Treacle. 1 teacupful of Milk. METHOD. Mix the Cakeoma, oatmeal and spice to- gether, and rub in the butter or lard. Add the milk and syrup (which should bo warmed), and mix well. Put it into a baking tin and leave it covered up till next day; then bake ft in a rather cool oven. Next week a Chocolate Pudding recipe. Cakeoma is sold cnly in 3d. packets by Grocers and Stores everywhere.

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and deserted spot enough. To the west the country appeared to verge upon desert, and indeed only a few miles away was a district called the "bad land," an alkali desert where there was no water, where nothing grew, and where only the fantastig "painted rocks" broke the dreadful monotony that otherwise rivalled the most barren stretcnes of the Sahara- North and north-east was prairie land, of rather poor quality and not much settled ou, though hero and there was the homestead of some Ice- lander or other European immigrant. South and south-east the land was better, though still only thinly settled. But three or four farms were visible in the distance, and in very clear weather or when the mirage came, there could be seen the little town of Athns, twelve miles away, the prairie village in which Editor Kcene had recently taken up his abode, and whence he thundered continually against the negro race with one eyo on the negro community that Noah Siddle had gathered round himsilf. Near at hand the scene was more piosperous. The shanty Dodd occupied stood alenc, but a few hundrew yards away from it, tc wards the east, was a group of comfortable and tidy look- ing houses, together with farm outbuildings, some of wood but most of them of stone. Sev- eral people—men, women, and children—were visible about the houses or at work in the fields, all of them apparently of the negro race. Most of the houses had neat and well tended gardens, and the fields of the farm, with green and healthy crops, that were now on the point of ripening, formed a pleasant contrast to the burnt-up, dry appearance of the rest of the country. The reason for this • apparent fertility was revealed when one noticed a little to the north the tall scaffolding that marks the presence of an artesian well. and then noticed little chan- nels for water running from it to the fields. Evidently irrigation was practised here, and with very considerable success. Between this well and the group of houses, but a little to the west, so that it was nearer to Dodd's shanty, stood another building of rather curious appearance. It was of a good height with a flat roof, and was made of well fitted stone, and the only windows that it had were high up, from fifteen to twenty feet from the ground. All the portion of the wall near the ground was blank stone, save only for one door, which was heavily strengthened with iron. On the whole, it reminded one of a prison or a fortress, yet without having quite the air of either. It was surrounded by two wire fences, of which the outer was about ten feet high and made of barbed wire, so as to be quite a formid- able obstacle, while the inner was not quite so tall, and was formed apparently of smooth strands. "That's where Noah does all his work," said Dodd, pointing to this curious erection; "he don't mean to have folks spying on him while he is busy. See that inner fence" "That outer one looks more formidable," re- marked Mr. Hetherington. I "That is where you miss your guess," re- torted Dodd; "that inner fencevcan be charg- ed with electricity when b«» wants to bo par- ticular private. Oh. it's hci." &dded, see- ing that his two companions >>ked incredulous; "some of the boys didn't bei.ero ,t. so they got an ox inside the outer ;,=,1:'(0 c-no nrs-hi. That ox was dead in the mcrr&n* -,»p iiko it had been struck wUjj. rio, sir. i 'tain't healthy to i-iajr.v txonwR while) Noah is busy; aTld you :J'S\; bo careful, for if he finds you out-—! "He would hardly to hurt v.?. remarked Mr. Hetherington with a i.vri'k" j "No one know? Vosre you ibssrved Dodd. "I dropped a letter to "iY ifrysr* in Lon- don," retorted Mr. them we were visiting &, ?-AK Sidtue in ( this neighbourhood. J. 'h Icued your j name also, Mr. Dodd, i?• -ioyikmg v/oie to happen to us, it wonid :101: be long bedor* in quiries were icke precautions as well as Mr. 8Idd" "I see you <¡,j D.-rdd, srriling with; averted eyes; "that r as ;1 ,"d smart ol you. Better come io and till it's time to start." Mr. Hetherington followed Him into the in- terior of the house, but Hugh remained on the i small verandah, looking, not at Noah Siddle's | curious home, but at the dump of houses to the east, and wondering where it was that E'i/a,! stayed while she was hero. He dici not bko to j think of her living ir. the yvdest of aU those ? negroes. There was 0n svvwsa juat & Jit,tie apart from the other. lb had » jotvh on wirier: a creeper grew. and be thcu*t.'i iJfeat its garden • seemed to have mors and bryrister :?1", than the others. He wondered it this .I3.r, vbc-vi | Eira lived, and while he ••ras still iocklug a-i it Eira herself came quic-iy round cornet- 5 of the verandah where he stood. "v." she said, stopping, but evidently not j recognising him. "oh, good morning; is Mr. Dodd back yet, do you know "Yes—yes," Hugh stammered, taken aback at her sudden appcarance. j There was a light in his eyes that she could | not help noticing, and he made n. little involun- ] tary movement towards her. She returned his look somewhat haughtily, till on a sudden she understood who he was. "Oh, never," she stammered, very pale, "never—it is not—not "like that, "Why not?" he said. "Oh, that is so dreadful," she said, trembling, ¡ and in her eyes there showed a iook of horror, I such as he had thought he saw when he imag- ined her face watching them our of the dark- ness tJ. strrted on this expedition. I "Why, ne aaid again. "I do not know," she muttered, and glanced over her shoulder at the curious barn-like build- ing behind her on her right. j "Well," he said, defensively, "you knew I should follow you." j "Never, never," she cried with energy; "I j never dreamed ] "All the same," he repeated, "you knew very well I should follow yoii. "You have no right, to say such a thing," she cried hotly, her paie face flushing crimson. "No, you haven't—it is cowardly, it is mean. And Miss Hetherington." she asked with bitter scorn "how does she like your leaving England while you come here?" "Oh, she is with us." said Hugh calmly. Eira stared a.t him, as if unable to believe she heard him correctly. "Oh, this is worse than anything I ever imagined," she muttered. She lowered her voice to. a frightened whisper; she bent nearer to him so that he could hear her low murmured words. "But he is not with you, too?" she whispered; "he is not with yoa—he is not dis- guised like you?" "You mean my uncle," snid Hugh; he is here." "But not—not she panted. "Why, yes," said Hugh, "hie makes as good a nigger as I do. I believe." I She had a dazed expression. Both her hands were on the verandah rail, as if only so could she support herself upright. Now and again she trembled from head to foci. "It frightens me," she said, "that you should I be like that—black. I never dreamt of that." "Oh, come," said Hugh laughing, "there is nothing to worry over; I have had a black face before, when we got some Christy minstrels up at school." "You do not understand," said Eira heavily. "I do not understand cither; it is something I never dreamed of 'that you should come like this. I think there is great danger some- where." "Oh, we can take care of ourselves, I think," said Hugh, and she looked at him with a palo smile, such as a. mother might give on seeing her child laughing and playing in the midst of some moment of deadly peril. Hugh added, net- tled by this smile, "Of course, if you tell Mr. Siodle-—" "Tell him?" she said with a bitter look, "tell him? Whlr, there is nothing anyone can tell him. She paused and looked round with an expression of extreme distress and bewilder- ment. "Oh, why have you come here, of all r.b ces in the world?" she broke out. "But I know-he made you—he is terrible I "Uncle did not make, me exactly," returned Hugh, "and he is not such a very terrible per- son." "I was not thinking of Mr. Hetherington," returned Eira; "he is nothing at 3011." "Oh, isn't he?" said Hugh, who knew that the important and wealthy Mr. Hetherington was not usually considered "nothing." "Any- how, no one else had anything to do with I n "Do you think that—do you really think that?" she asked. "Is it possible you do not know you have been led every step of the way here, as surely as if you had been taken by the hand?" I "No—why, what do you mean?" asked Hugh, uncomfortably remembering that impres- sion he had so often had of an unseen influence that shepherded them upon their way. For answer Eira turned again and looked at that old stone house that stood a little north and east of Dodd's shanty. Hugh understood. "But why?" he asked. "What for?" "Noah Siddle had a son," she answered, "who was my father. That bad man, who is your uncle, cheated him out of the great in- vention he had perfected after- years of labour, and drove him to despair; I was only a little child then, but I remember. Well, my grand- father was working on the same thing, but he could not succeed, and he asked me to help him to recover the secret my father had been rob- bed of, so that all the world might know what my father did, what he discovered, and how he was treated. I agreed willingly; and by the help of friends I got first of all the key to the cipher my father had hidden his secret in, and then the cipher itself." i; "I see," said Hugh slowly. "I think I more than half suspected all this." "I warned you," she said passionately; "I sent you warnings. Before I left England I had a dream, and I thought I saw my grand- father sitting planning something against you more strange and terrible than anyone but him could conceive. I warned you again; why did you not listen?" "Because said Hugh, and paucad. "Why did you come?" she asked once more. with the same intense and agitated manner, "Why did you come in spite of all my warn- ings?" "Do you ask me that?" he said. looking full at her, and speaking with an agitation of his own. "I thought you were engaged to Miss Hethc-- ington; I thought she had come here will: you." said Eira scornfully. i, doe.iu i:];to. if &i»e has." said Hugh hushed and suiky. anc unable j ae/en: himself or to explain that in not believe his enTa^eweat with Delia would eve* Ltg c<mi«cii' owW "It doesn't matter?" Eira repeated. "I thought I hated you once. but now I only de- spise you. I wonder how it is men are so light?" "I am not light," said Hugh, very angry in- deed. "Oh, pray don't trouble to defend yourself," she said cuttingly. "I think I understand you very well." "You——" began Hugh, but she checked him with uplifted hand. "All that does not matter in the least," she said "it is your being here disguised as a ne- gro that frightens me so. I never heard of that; I don't understand why grandfather wanted you to do that." "But it wasn't his idea. at all," protested Hugh; "it was our own." "You have no ideas," she retorted. "You have done nothing but what he wanted you to do. I knew he wished you to be here at the moment of his success, so as to triumph over you, but why does he want you to look like negroes? Oh, I am afraid" she said, clasping her hands. "I assure you there is nothing to be afraid of," he began. "And to have brought Miss Hctherington!" Eira went 011 unheedingly. "Can he bo plan- ning anything, a.crainst. her, t.qo.? Oh, I mu$t find-out what all this means, what his plan& are. Wait here till I see you again. Don't leave this house or go to him, whatever you do. He began to protest that he could not pro- mise, but she made him an impatient gesture, and turning, hurried away. He tried to follow her, but she motioned to him angrily to go back; and as he saw she was making for the old barn-like building near, he obeyed her and returned rather ruefully to Dodd's shanty. There he found his uncle sitting waiting, and he told him he had just seen Eira, who had recognised him. "That is bad luck," said Mr. Hetherington, frowning, but looking at obstinate as ever; "it can't be helped, though." Before Hugh could say anything more, Dodd came into the room. "Time we started," he said. "Are you go- Cig through with it 7 "Of course," said Mr. Hetherington with a little gasp of excitement, as he thought of his diamonds. "Rather you than me," said Dodd grimly. He led the way out of the shanty and by a trail beaten in the virgin prairie to the big stone building near. As they approached it, Eira passed them, hurrying away from it. "He will not let me in or speak to me," she said breathlessly. "I am sure he intends some- thing dreadful—something strange. "Pooh!" said Mr. Hetherington, who would not have turned back at that moment for an army. It seemed Eira understood the inflexible ob- stinacy his face showed. "Well. I am going to the sheriff,' she de- clared', and hurried on. Dodd shrugged his shoulders but said noth- ing, and led them on through the two wire fences to the big iron-bound door, at which he knocked. It opened at once, though by no visi- ble agency, and Dodd led them down a dark passage, whence opened two apartments that seemed used as store-rooms for a queer miscel- lany of articles, to a staircase by which they mounted to a landing above. Here were other doors, at one of which Dodd knocked. It open- ed, and crossing the threshold the yfound them- selves in a small, bare apartment where, at a desk, sat a tall old man with long white hair, a head nobly shaped, and a face of which the brow, eyes, mouth chin, were all perfect, but which was, nevertheless, stamped with a kind of grotesque horror owing to the fact that there was no nose, that feature being represented by two nostrils flat with the face. This de- ) formity, which seemed from birth, made him terrible to look at, and glancing up as they entered he smiled at them. "Good-day, centlcmen," he said. "I am glad to see you, I have been waiting for you," and he smiled again with a welcoming air that daunted them. (To be continued.)