Papurau Newydd Cymru
Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru
10 erthygl ar y dudalen hon
IVEILED PROPHET.
VEILED PROPHET. NEW MAHDI CAPTURED IN THE SOUDAN AND HANGED. Router's Agency has received additional details of the expedition lately undertaken by Colonel Mahon, Deputy-Governor-General of the Soudan, against a new Mahdi who had arisen in El Obeid. Colonel Mahon had but just returned to Khar- toum from El Obeid on his way to England when news came that Mahomed El Amin had pro- claimed himself as Mahdi among the Tagalla mountains in Southern Kordofan. Realising the dangerous possibility of such a movement, a force of 200 cavalry was drawn from Khartoum and despatched by steamer up the White Nile, orders at the same time being sent to El Obeid for 200 infantry, with two Maxims, to meet Colonel Mahon and the cavalry near Tagalla. After proceeding for 200 miles up the White Nile the Khartoum force disembarked at Faehe Showe, and marched in a south-westerly direction towards Tagalla. The force accomplished a rapid and trying march of 200 miles over desert country, which was rendered more difficult owing to the heavy rains. Five days after leaving the river, Col. Mahon heard that the Mahdi was in a certain village, and after a forced night march the troops surrounded the fanatics' position at daybreak. There was some desultory firing, but the Mahdi speedily realised that he was surrounded and gave in. Col. Mahon, accompanied by the local Sheikhs, then went up to the village, whereupon the Mahdi came out and surrendered. He proved himself to be a man of great intelli- gence, who had twice made the pilgrimage to Mecca, from which city he had just returned. He was 40 years of age, and a native of Tunis. He had been most energetic in his propaganda, and it is estimated that he had been left alone for another month he would have had all the people of that part of the country with him. Letters were found from most of the leading Sheikhs in the Soudan, making enquiries about the movement. He was working on the same lines as the original Mahdi, and in a very short time would have been in a strong position. He was taken prisoner, sent to El Obeid under escort, and subsequently tried and hanged. He was not dressed like the Soudanese Arabs, but he and all his people were partially veiled. He wore rich silk garments like those of the Mecca people. His principal adherents were also taken prisoners and sent to El Obeid. After his investigations in the Tagalla Hills, Col. Mahon's force marched back to the White Nile by easy stages. Many of the horses succumbed to grass poisoning, four of the infantry were lost owing to sunstroke, and 75 per cent. of the whole force went down with fever.
DEPARTING MISTLETOE.
DEPARTING MISTLETOE. Dickens must be turning in his grave, for, from Covent Garden market comes the strange report that mistletoe is going out of fashion. The poor will have no money to spend on such luxuries this year, and the dwellers in flats and maisonettes, and they are legion nowadays, already bump themselves against the furniture, and would bump themselves still more did they fill the already crowded space wherein they dwell with mistletoe and holly. In all this pother nothing at all is said about kissing, but perhaps we are less backward than our,grand- fathers and need no bough of tempting white and green to swing encouragement.
.NATURE NOTES. .
.NATURE NOTES. THE BIGGEST ROACH, The Old Windsor waters of the Thames have yielded what is claimed to be the largest roach ever caught in that river. It fell to the roC: of all angler named Edmunds, and scaled 2ibs. 12oza. CANARY NO TEll. German canaries excel all other canaries aa singers. One has been known to continue a single trill for a minute and a quarter, with tv. enfcy changes of note in it. NATURE IN A FEARSOME MOOD. In parts of the North Island of New Zealand eruptions are commonplace events. The recent eruption of the great Waimangu geyser recalls the terrible havoc caused by the explosion of Mount Tararewa on that island in 1886. The country for miles round was devastated, including the loss of two native villages with their inhabitants—close upon 100 lives. ABOUT GERANIUMS. "I do not think" (says a writer in the "Gardener"), "that there are any plants more often improperly managed than the Geranium. In nine out, of 12 places it is the value of the knife that is unrecognised. Many lady gardeners who manage their own greenhouses say to their friends, I have some nice slips coming on the bottom of my plan, ar I as soon as they are long enough you shall have some." They thereby remove the foundation of a good plant. Now if they would take a knife and cut off the top of the plant they would have a good bushy plant. This would re- sult in a dozen or more fine trusses instead of one, as is often seen. With a view to the greatest success, it should always be remembered that it is no more trouble to grow good varieties than it is to grow bad ones. ROSES ON THE RIVIERA. While England has been deluged with rain all summer, the Riviera has endured a very protracted drought, and no rain whatever fell between the end of June and the end of October. In conse- quence there are many deaths to deplore in most gardens on this coast, and the autumn crop of roses is later than it usually is. The" Garden" says that this will be no loss if December keeps mild and sunny, but, should an early frost occur, the damage to the fast-growing shoots and buds will be immense. A "RHINOCEROS" RAT A very curious variety of the common rat was exhibited the other night at the Zoological Society of London, and aroused considerable interest. It was quite hairless, and the skin was wrinkled into little folds, which, however, rather resembled the convolutions of the brain than the armour of a rhinoceros. It was taken at Leyton, where two similar specimens had been trapped. Some fifty years ago the variation appeared in mice at Maidenhead, and living examples were exhibited in the Gardens, where young were born exactly like the parents. These were locally called "rhinoceros" mice; and the author of a paper on the subject considered the name not inappro- priate. ANIMALS AND FIRE. Most animals are afraid of fire, and will fly from it in terror. To others there is a fascination about a flame, and they will walk into it even though tortured by the heat. A horse in a burning atable goes mad with fear, but a dog is as cool in a fire as at any time. He keeps his nose down to the floor, where the air is purest, and sets himself calmly to finding his way out. Cats in fires howl piteously. They hide their faces from the light and crouch in corners. When their rescuer lifts them they are, as a rule, quite docile and subdued, never biting or scratching. Birds seem to be hypnotised by fire and keep perfectly still; even the loquacious parrot in a fire has nothing to say. Cows, like dogs, do not show alarm. They are easy to lead forth, and often find their way out themselves. THE EARL AND THE WORM. The late Earl of Stair had a determined and emphatic hatred against worm-fishing, and in the "permits" for his Scotch rivers was inserted a special clause which barred fishing with any kind of "bait." The attitude of the earl was scarcely logical. His argument was that fish which would take a worm were dirty fish. Yet the salmon takes a worm. It may be added that a mile or two of quite the best salmon river in the South-West of Scotland belonged to the earl, and that he quite freely gave permission for people to fish in it for brown trout. That there were no brown trout in the river may have been part of the earl's joke,. PRETTY BIRD LORE. The Highlander of other days, as now, had a profound love of nature which led him to associate birds and beasts with his proverbial philosophy in a curious and intimate way. In many of the Gaelic sayings, the characteristics of birds are very happily' hit off, the cry or song being in many cases quaintly imitated. Thus, of the king of birds there is a rhyme, Glig, glig, glig, says the eagle, it is my son who is Lord over you all." The little wren is always referred to by the Highlander in a good-humoured sort of way, as in the following 'Tis the less for that, 'tis the less for that, as the wren said when he sipped a billful out of the sea." The raven waa imitated in the following saying: "Groc, groc, groe, says the raven, it is my son that will pick the lamb's bones." This bird was credited with a great partiality for the eyes of beasts; these were the tit-bits of his feast, hence the proverb, The raven that rises early gets the eye of the beast in the bog." But for all his greed, the raven was not without a redeeming feature; he was proud of his little ones: Black though the raven be. he'thinks his chicks white." The carrion crow had the same pride in his family, as this saying shows The crow thinks his own blue chick a beauty." A similar sentiment is expressed imita- tively thus: Gorach,, gorach, gorach, said the crow, it is my son who is the blue chick." Then there is this sage observation, That's a pair, as the crow said to her feet." Other beautiful sayings of the Highlander are ''There is no smoke in the lark's house," and The three prettiest dead are a little child, a white trout, and a black-cock." A ZOOLOGICAL EXPLORER. Last year Captain Boyd Alexander, a well- known member of the British Ornithologists' Club, visited the island of Fernando Po, off the Bight of Benin, with the object of making a collection of birds of the island, the avifauna of which was very little known. He met with such remarkable suc- cess that he was able, as the result of his trip, to enrich his collection with no less than forty-three species new to science. This fact has induced some friends of the Natural History Department of the British Museum too. send out to Fernando Po a naturalist collector zoologically to explore the interior and highlands of the islands, and should he succeed in bringing home a representative collection of the fauna of the place, it is, the London correspondent of the" Scotsman" gathers, pretty certain that it will contain a good many things of exceptional interest to zoologists. A MYSTERY OF MARKED SALMON. A feature of the recently closed salmon season has been the large number of fish marked for pur- poses of scientific investigation that have been recap- tured. These do not solve the mystery of migration; but they reveal an astonishing rapidity of growth, which exceeds even that of their normal brethen, who, according to Kingsley, go down to the sea weighing five ounces and come back weighing five pounds." A humorous ichthyologist suggests that this is a result of the cheap loaf," because a marked fish is given extra shrimps by the other salmon in honour of his distinction. A more probable explanation is that the eerie appearance of a marked fish frightens away the others, so that he can establish a "corner ,¡ in shrimps; and he takes admirable advantage of his monopoly.
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All new schools in Switzerland have a portion of the ground floor q--ropriated for baths. Each class bathes about once a fortnight, summer and winter. Soap is used, and a warm bath is fol- lowed by a cooler one. Sick children and those haying skin diseases are excludeel.
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_=====-=:< WOMAN'S WORLD WARM CLOTHES. tVant of sufficiently warm tit-lee, clothing is a frequent cause o indigestion. Warm stockings and stout boots are a nrevf»ntir« of dyspepsia in winter. Warm .clothing does net doeii zict necessarily mean heavy clothing. People who wear very heavy clothes, heavy flannels, heavy coats and skirts, are often as much tired by their weight as by the exercise they have taken. ? HAT REVIVALS. il The Imperatrice" is the newest toque, the shape of which is a re- vival from the days of the Second Empire. Of royal blue, it is wide and long, and comes slightly over the face in front, the brim is covered with gathered velvet, and a bunch of deep purple grapes hangs from the back on the left-hand side. Of greater popularity is the Napoleon," a fur toque, wide across the front and short at the back. The quaint and somewhat ugly mushroom hat, which was worn 70 years ago, is among one of the latest revivals. These mush- room hats are of vast proportions, and sometimes have a lace "fall" placed round the edce of the brim in true 1830 fashion. ° FUli AND I'ilM.U,. A most picturesque wrap for tho carriage, in 1830 style, drooping well off the shoulders, is made of old blue chiffon velvet, with trimming of ermine, and includes extremely wide eloevis over wide lingerie frills, three in number. Th use of Kim, soft rur for girdles under short Etons and for the belts and trimmings of blouses is a notable feature, and some of the results gaii e thereby are most elegant. We come very near to outdoing the feat of painting the lily this season. Lace is ap- plied with bits of cloth and of velvet. Fur is trimmed with discs of velvet, as well as of lace and passementerie. It sometimes seems as if good tiste and discretion were dead but the fur belts and girdles are really good when fine, soft sorts are used. Even bits of handsome fur give an effect of richness and elegance, and there is a marked tendency toward fur used on gowns, as well as for coats and hats. Fur turbans are exceedingly smart, and are seen in chinchilla, mole, ermine, mink, squirrel, all the favourites of the season, both made of the single fur and of two combined. Tips are used as trimming, and now and again velvet flowers but these last are somewhat in- congruous and lack the charm of feathers. A most beautiful turban, in torpedo shape, is of chinchilla, with a single green tip curled closely against the brim at each side. The combination of grey with green is admirable, and the tips and the fur blend to a nicety. FALSE HAIR: The demand for false hair is evi- dently increasing greatly. An eminent authoress recently stated that ninety-nme out of a hundred women wear wigs. And now the Family Doctor" announces that Europe no longer affords sufficient supplies of false hair. Large quantities have to be obtained from Asia Minor, India, China, and Japan, and after being boiled in diluted nitric acid this hair is dyed to the tint which is most fashionable. Until recently the demand has been principally supplied from Germany, whore the peasant women regu- larly sell their hair for exportation. How TO BE BEAUTIFUL. Whether a girl will have the gifts of comeliness, whether she will have a fine smooth complexion, straight limbs, shapely figure, and good carriage, depends on her mother's care from infancy. Whether she is to be plump and short or symmetrical; whether she is to be a gipsy or creamy brunette, a freckled, thin-faced chit, or a well-touched blonde, is also measurably under con- trol. Her forbears must be taken into considera- tion in training. If her family are stocky —not over tall—and she follows the type, ou train her for height and longer contours by sending her to a dry mountain region if possible, and accustom her early to exer- cises for suppleness, letting her live out of doors, but not setting her to close work or hard tramps. She should sleep alone in an airy room, keeping the limbs straight, not going to sleep curled up with her knees halfway up to her chin. The stroking with long smooth sweeps and gentle pres- sure from neck down the length oi the spine and from hip to heel nightly by the hand of mother or trusty nurse, is one of the greatest encouragements to growth and symmetry a. young thing can know. Always rub downwards, never up, to lengthen a limb. PICTURE DRESSING. Receptions are amusing and in- structive. The last I attended (says "Pamela," in "Chic") showed me the power of picture- dressing to improve feminine beauty. A woman whom I had hitherto seen in the usual con ventional garb-à la mode—had donned a beautiful picture- gown of the Empire period, and we all discovered that she had found her proper frame at last. The dress was worthy of description; it was a luminous, velvety th a design of natural- coloured chrysanthemums which seemed to blend and melt one into the other. It had the short Empire waist outlined by a black velvet ribbon, which was fastened by an old paste clasp and fell in long ends to the feet. The back was .slightl) gathered on to the yoke of old guipure of a twine-coloured shade and the front formed the Empire square. The sleeve was a short full puff, gartered with a band of black velvet ribbon and a steel buckle. The hat, of shaded ruby and raspberry red velvet, had a gathered brim and reversed feathers curling on either side to frame the hair. Long black suede gloves gave a finishing touch to, the old-world gown. I feel sure ("Pamela" con- tinues) that every woman should dress according to the epoch for which her personality is best suited. I know a dainty little Madame de Pom- padour who loses half her charm, thanks to the modernity of her dress and a superb Roman empress, over whose flounces and feather stoles artists might weep. We destroy all the lovely, harmonious lines of the figure with ruchings and trimmings of every description, making the frame spoil the picture. The one serious argument against picture-dressing is that it must be carried out unrler the supervision of an artist; and it is expensive, for one has to live up to it. A KNITTED BATH TOWEL. A kitted bath towel is an un- common sort of work to be engaged upon, and a little girl II. who recently made one thought it would make a. useful birthday gift. As a child can easily learn the stitch it can readily be seen that the work would not be in any way difficult. For a large towel four balls of Number Six, un- bleached, knitting eotton will be needed. The small size of white bone needles should be used. Cast on one hundred and thirty-eight stitches. From beginning to the end knit plain the first three and last three of every needle, so as to make a selvedge. Knit the ends in any way that may be fancied. For instance, seven rows of plain knitting and seven rows of holes. To make the holes, knit two stitches together and put the thread over; then two together and put the thread over across the needle, and in returning knit every stitch, the thread over the needle counting as a stitch. Then knit another plain space of seven rows, with three rows of holes, then a plain space of three rows, and then begin the towel centre. After the three selvedge stitches, knit two plain, two seam, two plain, two seam, across the needle ending with the selvedge, and knit back in precisely the same order. The next time (which is the third) reverse the order knitting two seam, two plain, two seam, two plain across the needle, knitting back in the same order The whole centre of the towel is a repetition of these, four times. The little squares of twos make raised spots, which will remain if the towels are wrung lightly when washed. They should never be ironed. Make the end correspond with the first, and finish with a heavy fringe of cotton. Do not knit much at a time, as the towel becomes somewhat heavy before it is done, but it is pretty work and most satisfactory.
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The Congregational Union of England antl Wales has accepted the invitation of the Congre- gational churches at Cardiff to hold the auta assembly naxt year at the Welsh centre.
I[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] THE…
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] THE HISSIM MILLIONAIRE; OR, Who Killed Rose Hammond > BY M. C. ROWSELL. CHAPTER XXIII.—(Continued.j PWHAT for?" Dunno. For naught, fur as I can see, but to walk up an' down outside, and do for any- One as dares to come nigh; but 'tis a rare foolish task he's set me." Who has set it you?" Mr. Cleeves, I tell yer-for why, that foaks hereabouts is too skeered to come Within half a mile of the place. More fools they. I've bin walkin' up an' down like a Vvild beast in a show these two days past, and tiaught o' nothin' hev I seen." "Not even Mr. Cleeves ? said Temple, as Blinker, shaking his head despondently, added that he did not mind how soon he was back at the wharf, if it wasn't for the extra BQoney he was getting for the job but Mr. Cleeves talked of being over to the place possibly that night, and then he should tell llim he couldn't stand that treadmill sort o' work. All of which Temple elicited from Blinker in due course. And it an't as if I was used to be walkin' about all night like the spooks do," patheti- cally added Blinker. "Have you not been inside the place?" asked Temple. "Not yet." "A pleasure to come?" smiled Temple. IK WelIyMr. Cleeves must be talked to, for, as I say, you are not to be spared any longer. Blinker. You're wanted at the wharf, Business is growing brisk again, and it is misplacing your talents to keep you here." "Yes, any fool could do this sorto' thing," laid Blinker. "Eh?" Or any knave. Good afternoon. I shall fee looking for you at the wharf pretty loon." And so they parted, Blinker to his patrol, and Temple up through the village, and stowly by unfrequented field ways to think out the experiences of the day. So the twilight gathered into the fair autumn even- ing, and the moon rose over the sea in a sky of cloudless blue, for rain had fallen on the previous evening in brief but heavy showers, and dispersed the clouds of the past days. It was somewhere near eight o'clock when Temple strolled back towards St. Wolfram's, making his way by the shore. One by one the fishing-boats were putting out to sea, and Temple, lost in thought, halted among the broken, brambled-fringed ridges over- banging the shingle, and watched till the last boat had put off. As he was about to continue his way, a Blight rustle among the bushes caused him &0 turn and ascertain what manner of small beast-or, more likely, bird—was moving so stealthily. It was, however, neither beast nor bird, but the glimpse of a human face that he caught—a face seen so clearly for the instant that the features were distinguishable but he did not recognise them. They were un- familiar to him, and ill-favoured enough not to recommend themselves for any closer acquaintance. Momentarily only as he could see, the cavernous jaws, the flattened nose, the narrow brows were as evil-looking as one of the stone gargoyles yonder in the porch of the old church. Reflecting that poachers were not unknown in the neighbourhood, Temple continued his way till he reached the jetty. Tired with being so long afoot, he sat down on its little wooden steps and fell into desul- tory chat with the owner of the one boat still lying upon the beach. She was, however, in trim for a cruise, and her master—a man ,i krJOwn to Temple—was sealing the gear inside, preparatory to pushing off, though be was going rather unwillingly, for in course of conversation the fact came to the surface that another small craft had been added to the domestic quiverful only that Morning; and although, as the proud father -explained, the missis and the k idwas doing bravely, he'd leifer been at home that even- ing; but. bread must be won, and choice could not be consulted. Temple was a practised nautical hand. Born, as it were, on the very edge of the Suffolk coast, he loved the sea as well as if a sailor's life had been his calling; and when lie proposed to take over the little craft and •eaii out for awhile, her owner was willing enongh to fall in with the exceedingly generous bargain Temple proposed, sealing it by prepayment. For I shall return onlywhen the humour takes me," he explained, as he jumped inLo the boat, "and that may be any time between now and midnight." CHAPTER XXIV. I IN THE MOONLIGHT. I "AY, ay, sir. All right," said the man, as he gave the boat a parting shove, and Temple found himself sailing away in the gentle night breeze lighted by stars and moon that shed a brilliantly clear light on sea and shore, stretching on every side to a distant horizon, save only where the walls of the old Chantry ]oomed sullenly like a huge blot on fair paper, with never a gleam to relieve ita blackness. And shrouded in shadows cast by its heavy turrets and crenellations wept the woman stolen from him. From her prison-room a ■little stair ascended to the gallery running within the outer wall, and by this stair Noma was permitted to find her way to the open air, escape being impossible, cut off as it was at each end by the fallen flooring, and falling on one side sheer below to the sea, on the other to the courtyard. Hour after hour Norna had already learned to pace the seamed old flagstones, gazing with tear- blurred eyes upon the liberty she was denied, for the air and the light were only a mockery. There was no stint of food for her and Nance —who continued to share her captivity. It had at first been thrust through a small opening tunnelled in the wall of the room, which seemed of many feet in thickness, but to-night the supplies had been brought by an uncouth-looking Cyclops of a creature, whose best recommendation was his taciturnity, lie might have been dumb for all his replies when Nance attempted to get any from him, but when, to the biind woman's astonish- ment, Norna addressed him, he said ,,I- in -Blinl<t-.r. Yes.- That's me. I've see'd you afore. Twice I've see'd you. Down to Migson's." Then blinking cautiously all round the 'darkening room, he relapsed into a silence which no words put to him. by the two v/oraen were able to break, and when he had gone, Nance, with the instinctive quick per- ception of the blind, refrained from so much 4is referring to the man. She waited fur Norna to do so first, but in a very short time tfter Blinker's departure Norna once more passed up the stairway to the gallery, for it seemed as if it was only there that she could IJreaLhe or think sanely. I vSo daylight died in the glorious night. She saw the fishing-boats glide away into ■the offing. The stars grew numberless in the purple sky; the moonlight rested on the calm waters; the clock in the church-tower down across the fields struck eight—the old familiar music of its bell sounded strangely to her ears. It wrought her mind almost to madness, indeed, to think that within little more than a stone's-throw of good aim lay the old home; and then a bitter smile passed her agonised lips, for she, too, saw the cun- ning skill of the scheme for the compassing of her misery; she, too, discerned, as her husband had said, "in a glass darkly," the carefully-entangled webwroughtby Cieeves's unerring hand, an the refinement of his malice, all the daring, the conception, which rendered her position so hopeless. Who would dream of seeking for her in this place? Ginerva in her old oak chest was not more fatally hidden than was she in that lothsome ruin, whose damp and decay were screened over, dressed up as a corpse might be in rich trappings, most of them things which were to her as old familiar friends. Amid all the mystery of it no part was more puzzling to her than the manner in which those odds and ends of furniture had been abstracted from the Grange. It argued beyond doubt, she thought, that James Elmore was in this plot against her, since who else could have unbridled access to the Grange, and, having it, when and how were the things conveyed to the Chantry ? Surely it must have been under cover of some pitch-dark night, for otherwise attention must have been roused, and inquiries instituted but the hours and the days were passing, and helped seemed as far off as ever. Heaven and earth seemed alike to be closed against her appeal for succour, and the sea- birds wheeled screaming above her head, and flew far away into the free sky, and the bats flapped to and fro, and the owls in the broken turrets and loopholes hooted mock- ingly at her and glared in their scornful indifference from their safe corners, and the stars shone more coldly clear, and the moon grew dazzling in the brilliancy she flung upon the sea, spreading from remotest distance shoreward, till the bases of the Chantry were flooded from end to end in the silvery radiance, and the sails of the last little fishing-boat that had gone out looked white as driven snow as she sped landwards again, one solitary little craft. All the rest were far out now to sea, and the sight of that solitary boat lured her from the misery of her thoughts to watch it, until it was so near thatsbe could discern the figure of the man who was tacking the sails. A little nearer, and the brilliant clearness enabled her to see that the man was alone, and holding by the cordage; he was standing with face eagerly upturned upon the Chantry walls, and a great joy seized her heart—a great certainty filled her with courage—deliver- ance was at hand. More plainly than any words came the conviction that Horace was the solitary occupant of the boat, tossing now slightly upon the water as it ruffled to the shore. The next instant sealed the con- viction, for from the boat came a shout that bore the unmistakable cadence of his voice, and in the silence, scarcely broken by the falling of the waves upon the shore, she gave an answering cry that rang across the water and sent the bats and the owls circling aloft: Ilorace With her hands pressed upon her bosom to still the beatings of her heart, she watched eagerly. Ah, yes, he had heard, for he waved both hands. Then he waited, still with his faced upturned in the light, so that his features were almost discernible, marble white in the steady radiance. Again she signalled, flinging both arms far over the broken string-course of the walls, then, turning away, she fled down the little stair- case to the room. "Nance—Nance!" she cried, startling the blind woman from the sad abstraction in which she spent her time. We are saved Ah and she looked wildly round, and looked in vain, for the things she sought- writing materials. The prudence of her captors had not permitted these, and Norna. seized one of the books lying in the deep lattice, where she had laid it down after a fruitless endeavour to fix her mind on it, and tearing the blank page from the beginning, she wrote with a little toy gold pencil upon her watch-chain: I am shut in here. Save your Norna." A small crumbling stone lay, fallen from the wall, upon the lattice ledge, and lightly wrapping the paper about this, she flung it down into the waves, and as far out as she could. It fell true to the mark. She saw the paper flutter from its weight into the cordage of the boat. She saw Horace's out stretched hand, and then the flash of a match across the paper. Sinking upon the old oak seat in, the em- brasure of the window, she watched. The boat glided from the moonlight, and was lost in the shadow. She looked round for Nance. The blind: woman sat in her usual attitude of patient attention, rarely speaking but when spoken to. Time crept on. The minutes seemed like hours. At last the church clock struck ten. The glory of the stars became more bril- liant, the moon's effulgence enfolded the n:gbi., but the stillness grew death-like in its liiuMisily. IS i«veil Twelve struck to a new day. And still Norna Avaited—listening. Ihe boat, speeding swiftly through the shadows by the tide, reached the jetty. Not a creature was about, and Temple, fastening the craft to one of the piles, sprang out, and passing to the end of the jetty, halted and reconnoitred. Ten o'clock was a. cP. onr for St. Wolfram's. Not a shadow of nie seemed to linger about the little street, almost, ciosed in by the ancient overhanging storeys a,nd gabled projections of the World's End. Beyond the ale-house the cottages lay wider apart until the open common was reached. Across the common a footpath turned off to the churchyard. It terminated at the lych-gate of the churchyard, which was bounded by a lofty, ivy-grown wall on the vicarage side, whose front window com- manded glimpses of the sea through the I garden trees. Winding on under the lych- gate wali, the path ran to an obtuse angle, where it met the side-road leading from the group of cottages looking upon the jettv, and over the footbridge just below Nance Btirgis's cottage, and so on to the verge of the gorse-grown common surrounding the landward side of the Chantry. This road Temple took, with, footsteps that might have been winged, not only for speed, but for their lightness born of hope and for their sound- le.stiess-fox- that the Chantry was watched, and closely watched, he had not a doubt, but time for reflection there was none. Next his heart lay the paper, wet with the waves, that confirmed his suspicions, and leisure for prudence Temple refused to find. Hasten slowly might be excellent counsel, but he thought of Norna—he thought of her being at the mercy of his worst enemy—for that Cleeves would stop at no villainy was certain now—and he hurried on, past Nance's cottage, not failing to note, even in the whirl of anxiety and hope impelling him onward, that the outside shutters of the lattices were fast closed. Ordinarily at night the windows were only bolted by their inner fastenings, and the curtains drawn, A thread of yellow light pierced a chink in the wood of one of the lowermost shutters, next the ptirch. It was the window of Nance's little parlour, but even as he paused for an instant to look the yellow gleamed died out. A little ahead of him, across the common, rose the walls of the Chantry, and thither lie was bound, to examine their every stone and loophole by the assistance of the brilliant moonlight. From a boy Temple had delighted in the old place, and he almost smiled to himself as he thought of its weak- nesses and its strength. That door the vicar had deplored to him was no doubt a very fine door, as doors go-a door that any Trade Unionist carpenter might justly be proud of—but those old craftsmen who put the Chantry together had another manner of going to work. Strange conceits, and devices, and fancies guided their hands, and-yes-a very good door, indeed, smiled Temple to himself, as, arrived at the spot, he inspected every board and nail of it; a door that would withstand your sturdiest kicks and blows and most violent language Then suddenly his face clouded over. It had taken no great length of time to turn across the common and make this moonlight survey of the old post-house, and it was but a short deviation from the course he had marked out for himself; and it might not be time wasted, and the new additions to the place might effect his plans for Noma's rescue. But every instant was precious, and it was a long way to the Grange, whither he was bound—longer still by the indirect way he intended to take, for the open paths in the full moonlight were not to be thought of. Retracing his steps round by the far-flung shadow of the Chantry walls, he passed on between the shelter of the huge furze clumps down the grassy slopes, till once more he came in sight of Foxglove Cottage. Some twenty yards from the footbridge the little stream it spanned narrowed to a ditch, and for caution's sake Temple decided not to cross, by the bridge, but—as a hundred times he had done—to jump the ditch. As he took the spring the iron grip of two hands pinioned him by the elbows and dragged him backwards; at the same moment a heavy blow on the back of his head sent him stumbling along the edge of the ditch. But he recovered his footing, and wrenching his wrists free, he turned to face his assailants. Dazed and weaponless, he gathered up all his strength, and dealt one of them a backhander that sent him down like a log. Then for a, few steps he staggered forward, but another hand felled him as he went with a blow from some blunt steel weapon, inflicting a long, deep gash above the ear. Blinded with the rush of blood, Temple reeled, and fell among the tall rank weeds of the ditch, his face upturned in the moonlight —unconscious—alone! (To be continued.)
JEALOUS "WOMAN'S* GIFT,
JEALOUS "WOMAN'S* GIFT, BENDS HER RIVAL VIPERS IN A JEWEL CASE. One of the strangest of revenges ever taken is surely that resorted to by the Countess de Pail- Ion. She and her husband had made the ac- quaintance of a beautiful young woman named Mademoiselle Leonie Victor, in a Paris restau- rant, and visits were exchanged. But the Count de Paillon fell a, victim, to the charms of Leonie, and his wife swore to be avenged on her too at- tractive rival. She went to a naturalist arid bought a couple of vipers, wrapped them in cot- ton wool, and placing them in a handsome jewelled case bearing the initials of the Count, told' her maid to take the strange gift to Made- moiselle Leonie and leave it "with Monsieur's compliments." The unsuspecting recipient was still in bed, and her first thought was "This must be the pearl necklace the Count promised me." But when the case was opened, and the loathsome serpents hissed at the lady in a men- acing manner, she hid beneath the bed clothes and shrieked in terror. The maid was equally terrified, but the concierge pluckily ran upstairs and killed the vipers. In the case was a letter couched in these words:—"When you read this the vipers will have stung you. This is the neck- lace which the Countess de Paillon presents to you." A divorce suit will (says the Paris corre- spondent of the "Daily Mirror") be the outcome of this unpleasant affair.
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Following a threat received by the post, an atrocious case of cattle mutilation has been discovered in the small Derbyshire village of Ashford, near Bakewell. b It is said that Mr. Richard Croker has taken & lease for five years of French House, a large training establishment on Curragh of Kildare. The Towcaster Board of Guardians has ac- cepted the offer of Mr. C. W. Bartholomew that when he, as a guardian, is attending the board meetings, the inmates of the house shall take country rides in his motor-car in charge of his chauffeur. A married woman named Isabella Bates, of Penge, has just given herself up to the police and jonfessed to concealing the birth of an illegitimate child nine year's ago. Among the troubles which have come upon farmers as a result of the wet weather may be numbered a plague of rats. In many parts of Devon, the fowl-runs are invaded by rats, not in single spies, but in battalions. These, having been flooded out of their holes, seek refuge in the most congenial spot, which to them is the fowl-run. On one Devonshire farm as many as 300 have been caught in two nights. Marguerite Schweeters, of Leesville, Ontario, a young girl of ten years, died suddenly last week. Shortly before the funeral her father fell in convulsions beside the coffin and expired. Mrs. Schweeters sent the mourners from the room, and while alone with the bodies was heard to fall heavily. She was found to be dead.
HOME HINTS.
HOME HINTS. The odour of onions may be removed from the hands by rubbing them with celery. When broiling fish be sure to have a steady, clear fire, and let the oookiwg be slow and uniform. If when washing white silk blouses, ties, &e., a dessertspoonful of methylated spirit is added to each pint of the last rinsing water, it will give the silk a smooth and glossy appearance. When soaking bread for boiled puddings or any kind of cooking, always break it small, and soak in cold water or milk. If soaked in water, squeeze it very dry before adding to the other ingredients. To stiffen muslin or lace curtains, make a cream of ordinary flour and cold water, then, whilst stir- ring, add a pint of boiling water for every table- spoonful of flour used. Rub the curtains through this in the usual way. To keep silver from tarnishing, place in an air- tight box with a few lumps of camphor. To make shabby brown boots and shoes take the blacking well, first rub with a raw potato. When blacking has become dry and hard, mix well with a little vinegar it will give an excellent polish to the boots. Valuable vases should be filled with sand. This makes them stand firmly, and they are far less liable to be knocked down and broken. To MAKE WHITING FOR DOORSTEPS.—A whit- ing can be made which does not come off on dresses, and is not so easily washed off in the rain as that usually used. Dissolve in one pint and a half of water half a pound of size; when melted in a saucepan, gradually stir in a pound of whiting. When cold this will be found to be rather stiff, and will need to be applied with a stiff brush. FOR APPLE JAM.—Peel and core your apples, and place them in a pan cover with a flour-and- water paste to exclude the air. Place the pan in a cool oven, and let the apples simmer till cooked and clear. To every pound of pulp add three- quarters of a pound of preserving sugar, put in a preserving pan, add enough lemon peel, minced fine to fiavour, and when it boils, skim carefully. Boil for about 20 minutes, skimming well, and then place in pots for keeping. COCOANUT IcE,Put one pound of the best loaf sugar, broken into lumps, into a saucepan, and pour over it half a pint of water. Let it stand for half an hour, and then place it on the fire and allow it to cool for five or six minutes. Remove the scum and boil the sugar until it is thick and white. Then stir into it a quarter of a pound of fresh cocoanut, finely grated. Stir unceasingly until it rises in a mass in the pan, then spread it as quickly as possible over sheets of paper which have been dried before the fire. POTATO BALLS.—Boil two pounds of potatoes and rub them through a sieve. Heat i gill of milk, two ounces of butter, and a little salt and pepper in a saucepan, pour it on to the potatoes, and beat all together with a fork. Flour the hands and make the mixture into balls; place them on a greased baking sheet, and bake in a good oven for 20 minutes. CALECANNON. Rub two pounds of boiled potatoes through a sieve, add to them half a pound of cold cooked cabbage, well minced, and half a pound of onions sliced and fried, and one table- spoonful of chopped parsley. Mix all the ingre- dients well together, and fry for 20 minutes in one I ounce of butter. POTATO PUREE.—Rub 21b. of potatoes through a sieve. Put 3oz. of grated cheese. 2oz. of butter, one gill of milk, and the beaten yolk of an egg into a saucepan, and stir until quite hot and creamy; add the potatoes and continue stirring the mixture until it is thoroughly hot through. Turn into a hot vegetable dish and serve at once. BAKED POTATOES.— Scrub, wash, and bake the potatoes in the usual way, and send to table accom- panied with the following sauce: Melt 2oz. of butter in a saucepan, stir in 2oz. of grated cheese, two beaten yolks of egg, a teaspoonful of chopped chives, and a dust of red pepper. Stir with a wooden spoon until the mixture forms a thick cream. Serve at once.—" H. H.in the Agricul- tural Gazette." A CAPITAL CHRISTMAS PUDDING.—Many are making the indispensable pudding of Christmastide now. For the benefit of our lady readers we give the best recipe we know for their Christmas Plum Pudding. Take three-quarters of a pound of flour, two ounces of Borwick's baking-powder, two ounces of bread-crumbs, one and a half pound of suet, two pounds of raisins, one pound of currants, ten ounces of sugar, two ounces of almonds, one pound of mixed candied peel, salt and spice to taste. Mix the ingredients well together, and add six epcs, well beaten, and three-quarters of a pint of milk divide in two, and boil eight hours. BANBURY CAKES.—Take two pounds of currants, half an CIlDcc each of ground allspice and powdered cinnamon, four ounces each of ca.ndied orange and lemon peel. eight ounces of butter, one pound of moist sugar, and twelve ounces of flour. Mix all thoroughly. Roll out a piece of puff paste, cut it into oval shapes, put a little of the mixture into each, and double over in the shape of a. puff. Place these-on a board, flatten them with arolling- pin, and sift sugar over them. Bake in a hot oven. To CLEAN OIL PAINTINGS.—Take some old potatoes and peel carefully after rubbing the potato over the painting (with very little, if any, water), a slice should be cut off and the rubbing continued. As you go on the painting should be wiped with a very clean, very soft. wet sponge. When you have rubbed sufficiently, the surface of the painting should be well washed with clean water and then rubbed gently with medicatedcotton wool, which will remove all dirt. Finallypolish by gently rubbing with a silk handkerchief. SMOKED LUNCHEON SAUSAGES.—Take fat and lean pork, season to taste with salt, and black or white pepper as preferred rbred a few eschalots, and mix well, adding a little allspice, if liked. Clean an ox-gut well, cut and grind the meat, and fill the skin, twisting anrl tvinc it at intervals to make links eight or nine inches long. Tie up the ends, and hang up to smoke in the samp way as ham or bacon. Its should be high dried. Serve either as it is, or it may be boiled first. BOILED LEG OF PORK.—Take.a leg of pork and salt it for eight or ten days. Let it lie for minutes in cold water before boiling. Allow a quarter of an hour for every pound of meat. and about half an hour over, from the time it boils up. A floured cloth is best to boil it in, as this gives a1 delicate white appearance. Serve hot, with mashed turnips or it makes an excellent breakfast or supper dish when eaten cold. ROLLED NECK OF MuTTON.Bone the neck stuff with a forcemeat of chopped sage, onions, bread crumbs, seasoned with salt and pepper, putting a layer evenly over the meat, and rolling it up tightly. Roast in a moderately hot oven, and serve with onion sauce. PORK STEAKS.—Cut the steaks from a loin of pork, trim them, pepper and broil them, turning them frequently when nearly done sprinkle a little salt on them, rub a bit of butter over, and serve as quickly as possible. Apple sauce or stewed tomatoes should accompany them. PIG'S PETTITOES.—Boil the liver, the heart, and a set of feet in water, taking care that they cook very gently. Take out the meat, cut it fine, and simmer it with a little of the water and the feet split, till the feet are quite tender. Thicken with a little butter, flour, and milk, adding salt and pepper to taste. Pour the mince over sippets of bread, arrange the feet on the top, in the centre of the dish, and serve bot.