[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] HER VANISHED LOVER. I BY EDITH C. KENYON, Author qf" Which was the Heiress?" The Hand of his Brother" The Squire of Lonsdale," eke. CHAPTER XVIII. MR. EDEN'S ILLNESS. U OR, dad! dad!" cries poor Jessie, ter- ribly alarmed. "What is the matter? Mother mother!" she calls, looking round for help, and fearing to leave her father for one minute. The bright, clean kitchen, with its dis- ordered breakfast-table, from which most of them have risen hastily, looks desolate. A solitary, sickly winter sunbeam coming in at the window falls across the red and swollen face of the old farmer in his arm- chair. It rests upon his fine, although now distorted features, and shows up more dis- tinctly the silvery whiteness of his hair. The old sheep-dog lying on the hearth rises, stretches himself, and coming up to his master, looks at him with evident concern, beginning to whimper when he finds no notice is taken of him. The kettle sings upon the hearth. Outside the window a couple of robins are awaiting the crumbs Jessie usually throws out to them. All this is burnt in on Jessie's mind—years after- wards she will see it all as vividly as she does now. Forgetting all about her money, or, if remembering, hating the very thought of it, now that the excitement attendant upon its coming has dealt such a blow at her beloved father, Jessie leans over him, crying, and realizing helplessly that she can do nothing to heal the grievous injury now fallen upon him. "Lord ha' mercy I" cries her mother, entering with a glass of water in her hand, and looking keenly at her husband. ""Richard Oh, Richard 1" her voice breaks. He has been a good husband to her, a very good husband, and she realizes it then as she has never done before. "He's had astroke," she says aside to Jessie. "God help us all, he's had a stroke." Together they attemptTto lift him—be is a dead weight—from his chair, and lay him on the old chinz-covered sofa. But it is a task beyond their strength, and Jane's strong arms have to be requisitioned. La, missis It's an ax-plax fit," whispers Jane, tears rolling down her cheeks. Miss Jessie, didn't I tell you now? Silence I commands Mrs. Eden. "He'll hear you. Leave his head against that cushion. There! Bring me some of the coldest water you can from the well. Jess, reach me that cloth, and pass me that there vinegar. Cold water, and vinegar to his head, and something hot to his feet. Jane," as the maid returns with the water, "go fo j"/1 •lrY3, j tOVrn We must have his Ihn t l JgR i «eS^' £ on'fc stand Poking like ibt k and ^d Dlck- He must go the doctor as quick as ever he can." wh° would rather remain with her father, recognises that she must obey tins capable nurse, and, running off down to the farm fold, calls Dick! Dick The fowls hear her, and come running and flyinR from all directions. The pigs hear her, and grunt loudly in their sties a horse hears her, and neighs from its loose box; pigeons hear and come flying down, with soft cooing and gentle flapping of wings. A couple of colley-dogs come tearing up with noisy barks, frightening away pigeons and poultry, who depart in all directions, with vehement flapping of wings and many indignant cries. The sight of some outside steps at one end of a building makes her determine to run np them, and, from their top, take a wider look afield. She accordingly does so, and, standing on the topmost step, looks around over the home-fields, with eager eyes. Dick she calls, perceiving him crossing a field at the other side of the fold, with his dog at his heels, "Dickl" She waves her handkerchief. Well, what do you want?" shouts Dick, amazed at this cry from her on the granary steps. What do you want ? I can't find Sue!" I want you," calls back Jessie's clear bell- like voice. I I Dad's ill. We want you to go for the doctor!" "Dad's ill: Jess, what do you mean?" exclaims a voice in Jessie's ear, as Susan, emerging from the granary, where she has taken refuge, lays a hand on Jessie's shoulder. "Oh, dear! How you startled me, child! I had no idea you were here Dad's very ill, very ill indeed." "Nonsense! He was quite well a few minutes since, when I left the house. He was quite well," repeats Susan. As she speaks she is hastily folding and slipping a letter into her pocket. Her eyes are very red. Evidently she has been crying over it there, all by herself. Mechanically Jessie notices all this, won- dering a little from whom the letter can be and what it is about. There is, however, no time to question Susan now. Rapidly the elder sister tells the younger that she fears their father must have had some kind of an apoplectic seizure. Susan knows what that means. One of the elderly farm labourers was smitten down with that woeful death-in-life only the winter before, and lay like a dog till he died, only his wistful eyes showing the poor mind struggling through its surrounding mists. Poor father she cries. "It's a shame 1 and for a moment the girl's selfishness drops off from her, and she reveals something better. It's a cruel shame And he so good and kind! And oh, dear, I've been right bad to him lately," she adds, with compunction, as she and Jessie go to meet Dick. It was only yesterday and she breaks down, crying at the remembrance of her beha- viour. Don't, dear, don't I. says Jessie, cry- ing, too. She has never felt so near to Susan since the latter was a little child, as she does in this their mutual trouble. What on earth's the matter ?" cries Dick, coming up. "Father ill? Why, I've Pj T}?eu ouk of house many minutes, and 1 left him hale and well." Jessie briefly describes their father's Almost before she 1ms finished •r'"slled off for his horse, that he iy)ay i-ide into tilco village to fetch the doctor. front kitchen "viilf L fertile Tlu'ii* WlUl small trepidation. wet cloths n i" < ie °'d co"ch, with cold weV cioins on his head, bveatbino- «•»!"« fixed •upon vacancy. Leside Imn kneels Mrs Edea, great tears rolling slowly down bet cheeks. Jessie recognises then that, what- ever are her faults, she loves her husband. Oh, mother! mother 1" sobs Susan, what- ever shall we do ? li -,isli He may hear you!" ho\v m,e graded wife. God alone knows be,s conscious of!" looking iii,+ vi ^<nvu beside her mother, ever been like (hie i Has he Eden, in tones BO LwJhat n MRS' soundless. Lbat Uley almost to mis of it! tat°hi°„e;f;. JS, Dta? befOT6 HoikeraS^s That it is an apoplectic seizure the doctor perceives at the first glance. There is nof very much to be done. The patient is put into a bed made up tor him in the kitchen; he is to lie there tended day and night in the manner the doctor directs, until, by God's wiercy, he comes to himself, or, instead, goes away to that bourne whence no traveller returns. I Days and weeks pass slowly by. There is little change in the health of the dearly- loved patient. His wife and daughters (chiefly Jessie), assisted by Jane, nurse him devotedly. There is no question now about Jessie's leaving home—her place is by her father's side. She has written to her lawyer, and he has at; once sent her a cheque for a hundred pounds, together with sundry papers for her to sign, others for her to keep; and the business matter is sets led. Her little fortune is her own, to do with as she pleases. Susan regards her with more awe, if some- what enviously. As the younger sister becomes accustomed to her father's illness, she seems to grow more callous about it. She refuses to admit Jessie into her confidence about the letter which gave her such trouble and resents all allusion to it. Every morn- ing she makes some excuse to meet the post- man herself and secure what there is for her before the family receive their letters. It is clear therefore that she still receives secret communications. Jessie fears something is wrong, but her father's illness prevents her from thinking much about it. At first Mrs. Eden seems really glad to have Jessie at home, and is pleased that she should spend part of her money in buying little luxuries for the sick room. "Your money comes in handy just now, Jess," says she. for I may tell you that the farm has only paid expenses lately, and there has been no money for extras." Yet Dick, when Jessie speaks to him on the subject, informs her that the farm has done unusually well the last year or two, and his father has spoken of being able to put by considerable sums. And Jessie has several times suspected that Mrs. Eden is in possession of a concealed store. One night, when Jessie enters the sick room at three o'clock, to take her mother's place for a few hours, whiIslj she goes else- where to lie down, the girl surprises her counting over a little heap of bank-notes. "It's not time for you to come yet!" cries the step-mother, angrily, looking up at her with furious eyes. "What for are you coming now ? It's not three o'clock." For answer Jessie points to her father's watch stuck up on the table for a timepiece. The short hand stands at III, the other at XII. It is later than you think," she says gently. "My goodness, it is! Mrs. Eden covers the notes with her hand. "There's not suffi- cient coal here, Jess," she says, shortly. "Just run down into t' kitchen and fetch some, will you? Jane's left a skep full ready." "Very well." Jessie goes softly down- stairs, not wishing to awaken Dick, or Susan. She is aware Mrs. Eden only wishes to be rid of her for a few minutes, as there is enough coal upstairs to last through the night. The kitchen is in darkness when she reaches it, and a chilly blast of cold night air blows upon her as she enters, extin- guishing her light. The wind comes straight from an open window, and she discovers that; the casement is wide open. A sudden sense of loneliness and fright makes her stand quite still. She can almost hear the beating of her heart. Although no one is visible she is convinced that someone is outside that open window. It must be a burglar. She wishes herself upstairs with all her heart. The wind ceases to blow upon her, the kitchen is darker even than before she knows a dark object is outside the window. In her agitation, scarcely knowing what she does, she strikes a light—for she has matches in her candlestick—the candlewick takes hold of the match-flame very gingerly. All her attention is concentrated on trying to make it burn. A noise, like a rough exclamation, and then, sounds, as of a heavy footstep with- drawing irom the window, together with a returning blast of cold air startle her. Holding the candle carefully between her hands, she advances with it to the window. The light streams out into the pitchy dark- ness-not even a star is visible-she can see no sign of anyone. She stands at the window a few moments, looking out vainly herself a beautiful pic- ture illuminated by the candle she is hold- ing. A study in blue and gold—she is in her palê. blue dressing-gown, with curly golden hair half down her back, and blue eyes open wide. "I will have her! I will! Is it fancy? Or does she really hear the muttered words ? She thinks it is fancy on her part, and closing the window, draws down the blind, and taking up a coal-scuttle returns upstairs to the sick room. My word What a time you've been exclaims Mrs. Eden, who has put her money away out of sight. "What have you been doing?" She looks suspiciously at Jessie. "Did you know the kitchen window was open, mother?" asks Jessie, regarding her step-mother fixedly. "There was such a draught, my candle blew out. "I know there was someone outside, for the window was blocked up the next minute." Whatever are you saying ? Mrs. Edei; endeavours to speak naturally, but look much agitated. o It was a man." "Didliesayanytliin "He made an exclamation of some sort. Just like a man." "Mercy on us! A burglar he must have been Good gracious! Jess, did you fasten the window ?" Yes." "And look roiin d ? "No. I came straight back.' "Then I shall have to go and look all around. There may be someone inside!" ihe woman snatched the candlestick from Jessie's hand, gave a look at the helpless figure of her husband on the bed, and was hurrying out of the room when Jessie stopped her. Stay, mother," she says, quickly. Don't go alone Call Dick up. If there is a burglar he might but her step-mother has gone. "Jess." The one word startles her. It comes from the bed. Her father's eyes are looking at her very wistfully. His lips are quivering. "Dad!" she cries, forgetting everything else except her joy in this partial recovery. "Oh, dad!" and she cannot say another word for deep emotion, but can only kiss him tenderly upon his brow. "Jess," he says again, with a great effort. "Jess, don't leave me! I—I'm very ill." Great tears roll down his face. "But you are beginning to recover," she says. "Oh, dad, darling, you are beginning to recover. And I won't leave you-don't fear; that-I won't leave you." There is no response. Her father has again sunk into apparent unconsciousness. Hit- eyes are once more glassy his breathing hard and stentorious. Jessie does not like to leave him for an instant lest she should miss another awaken- ing, otherwise she would go to the door to look out for her mother's return upstairs. The minutes pass slowly away. Jessie's ears are quick, but she cannot detect the sound of her mother's footsteps. All is very still. The clock below strikes the half hour. Five minutes, ten minutes pass, and then, the silence is broken by the sound of angry voices on the stairs. With one of those inexplicable movements of the night, the door-handle turns, ap- parently of itself, and the door opens about half an inch. This enables Jessie to distin- guish voices and even words. "You bad girl her mother is saying. Whatever were you doing out there at this time o' night?" What were you doing you meari ? asks fMisan, insolently. .p'VXpu were with some man——" the rest ot th^ sentence is inaudible. rou were with a man lf.you like. I saw him" You impudent hussy You lie! "Let me go. You shall not-not-shake me!" Sounds follow suggestive of a severe shak- ing. Sobs, many sobs; then, two doors open and shut. What does it mean ? Jessie is bewildered. Was it Susy who was outside the kitchen window when she went downstairs? If so she was not alone, for it was a man's ejacu- lation Jessie heard. She must have slipped out to talk with someone And what did her words mean about her mother. She had made a counter accusation. Had Mrs. Eden, been-out of doors in her pretended search after b tirg] zi,rs ? Thoroughly puzzled, Jessie looks at her poor father, as if for an explana- nation. His eyes are seeking hers, with an intelli- gent expression in them. His lips quiver once more he endeavours to speak. Jessie fills a spoon with a restorative, and gives it to him, cheering him the while with gentle, loving words. "Jess," he says feebly, at last. "I can't move-I can't move." Tears fill his eyes, and roll down his cheeks. Jessie wipes .them tenderly away. "But you are beginning to recover," she says as brightly as she can," you are begin- ning to recover. You can think and speak." He lies very still, struggling with memory, endeavouring to pierce the mists surround- ing him and grasp the situation. Shall I call mother suggests Jessie. "No." His voice is stern. "No." "But, dad, she loves you so dearly," Jessie ventures to remind him, for she has been touched by her step-mother's patient nursing of him. "She deceives me." Then, more vehe- mently, I care not for such love." His daughter does not know what to say. Tenderly she takes his hand and strokes it." "You—never deceive-therefore I love you," he murmurs. And then, the lucid interval is over, and he becomes once more unconscious. CHAPTER XIX. I SUSAN AND SLATER. I "LA! Archibald, how you do keep me waiting I was nearly caught last night." "You were? Come nearer me in the shadow of this tree. Speak very low, and tell me how that is ? Susan looks up at Archibald Slater in the rapidly fading twilight and giggles a little, very foolishly. They are standing in the old orchard amongst the gnarled and twisted forms of the apple and pear trees. A little brook running through the orchard murmurs a gentle accompaniment to their speech. The man has been hunting, following the hounds on a hired horse which is now tethered to the fence closd by. lie found it easy to leave the other hunting-men and dismount near Edenfield Farm, knowing Susan would keep her promise of the pre- vious night and join him in the orchard. She has done so, and both she and he feel a little nervous lest he should be discovered by Dick, or his jealous ally, Jim. Still they tell each other they must meet Slater, alleging that he can no longer keep away from Susan. To secure her co-operation he has been obliged to pretend that he has the most tender interest in her as well as in Jessie. "I don't know how in the world it is," says Susan low in his ear, "but just as I was going to let myself in at the kitchen door mother was entering it from outside, too. Mother! Just think! I never was so scared in all my life I fairly jumped." "Why, you little goose !-I mean you dar- ling girl, she had missed you and gone off after you of course "No, she hadn't. She was as much start- led as I was, Archie!" Susan simpers a little over the name. "She was quite as much startled as I was," she repeats. 11 Then, what was she doing out of doors at three o'clock in the morning? "She'd a little game of her own on," says Susan vulgarly. There was a man in it, too." "Hoi ho 1" laughs Slater softly. "And your father lying helpless there I Well, that was a go "You mustn't think there's anything wrong about mother," says the girl, remem- bering rather late that she ought to be loyal to her parent. "Of course if she chooses she can explain her being there." "And the man's presence ? I daresay. But come, Archie, we are not goiu' to spend all our time talking about mother. What for did you want so much to see me here to-night?" "Well, I want you to tell me something. I've heard—never mind who told me—I've heard your sister has come into a fortune. Is that true ? "No, no." "Not? I was wrongly informed then. A fellow told me she had come into money which brought her in at least 2200 a year." Susan shakes her head. For she does not stick at telling a lie to Slater. "AH is fair in love and war," she has taken for her motto. And she is determined Jessie shall not have him." Slater is puzzled. He does not think the girl will actually lie to him. A sudden idea occurring to his mind makes him exclaim, Oh Perhaps it is you who have come into the money ? Susan's face lights up. If she says Yes." Just that one little word, she feels certain Slater will prefer her to Jessie. It is a sudden temptation, and she yields to it in her mad infatuation for the man. "Yes," she answers, and then, hides her face upon his breast. "You darling!" He hugs her rather roughly. Oh, give over f" But she likes it. "How did this fortune come to you?" he asks. Jessie hesitates a moment. Then she answers firmly, "an aunt left it to me in her will." "And has the will been proved?" Susan does not know what that means. She stares at him rather vacantly. "What is the money left in ? he asks. "Oh, in consols," Susan answers, with only a vague idea of what she means by that, but having heard Jessie speak of them. "And is it in your possession now? Is it quite in your possession?" he inquires, eagerly. Indeed a very greedy expression has come into his face. Yes, yes," she answers with impatience, hoping he will cease asking these difficult hoping he will cease asking these difficult questions. He asks a few more about the amount ol money, which she answers as well as she can. Then he says condescendingly, with fine candour, "Well, I don't know but what I will have you, now you've got all that, You are quite sure there is no mistake about it though ? he adds, cautiously. "Quite sure." "Haw! Well," he twirls his moustaches irresolutely. I say," he says, at last, "I wish you could show me a little of the money it would seem to make it more real to me if I could see some of it." Susan's countenance falls. How the man distrusts her! And how can she possibly show him any of Jessie's money. "You might let me see fifty pounds, or at least twenty ? he suggests. It's in consols I tell you," she rejoins, rather sulkily. "Yes, yes. But you'll have some of your interest I've no doubt ? The greedy covet- ous expression of his face is intensified. "Oh, yes. I had a hundred pounds of interest to begin with," she says slowly, "But—but I've spent some of that-a great deal." "Let' me see 9,20. Let me only see R,20, and- I'll believe you, darling," he says, witb a rougll caress, which to any sensible girl t would have been as insulting as his words. But Susan bridles and giggles. Then she knits her brows, in the effort to think by what means she can possibly accede to his request. Although she is clever now at the task of opening Jessie's drawers even when they are locked—she can pick an ordinary- lock when necessary, having learnt the trick —she is doubtful whether her sister keeps so much money by her. Jessie, she knows, has opened an account with one of the banks in Wakefield, and she has a cheque-book. But it won't be the least use stealing a cheque of hers to show Slater. Even if she were to steal one and forge Jessie's name upon it, the name itself would be proof that the money was Jessie's and not hers. "I can't go into the house and fetch it now," says Susan, at length—"it must be another time." Send it to me by post." But-but-" "Haw! Susie dear, you must," he inter- rupts, Come now. You know my address." I can't spare it for you to keep." Susan looks quite frightened at the idea, Haw !—I won't keep it. I only want to see it. As soon as I've seen it I'll send it back." "Will you?" Susan looks doubtfully at him. Of course I will. On my honour as a gentleman!" That sounds very fine, so he repeats it. "And what then ? What will happen after you have seen it." Haw he strokes his moustaches, "well, I'll come for you, my girl—I mean rny love- I'll come for you." He regards her lan- guish in gly. Susan is in raptures. To be your wife ?" she asks, with a little gasp. My wife!" he repeats, acquiescingly. Blushing more deeply than ever, Susan nestles nearer to him. La she says from somewhere near his vest," how happy we should be Slater made a wry face from above her red head. The twilight deepens one or two stars appear in the leaden grey overhead; night is closing in on them with the sudden- ness usual to it in the middle of winter. "Miss Susan Miss Susan, where are You ? Susan, your ma wants you calls Jane from the top of the oicijara. sue lias a yard-broom in her hand, and is flourishing- it by way of attracting the girl's attention. "Don't let her see you, Archie, whispers y Susan to Slater. She has vowed she will pay you out for what you did to Jessie." "Then run to her. Run, or she will come down the orchard. I will stay here." But Susan clings to him. "I cannot leave you," she whispers. "Go, go. She is coming. She.will see me." He pushes Susan from him. (To be continuedI)
LOCAL TAXATION. I Mr. Bslfour, the Prime Minister, writing to the Central and Associated Chambers of Agriculture, who had asked him to receive a deputation on the subject of local taxation, said I understand it is your wish that I should receive a deputation from the Central and Associated Chambers of Agriculture on the subject of local taxation. I think it is generally known that it is the earnest desire of the Govern- ment to promote an improved scheme of local taxation in the country, but you are probably aware that an absolute necessary condition of this is a reform of the law of valuation. A bill to effect this reform is already prepared, and I trust it may be passed into law in the course of the present session. Under these circumstances I do not think that the occasion has yet arisen for de- tailed representations concerning the larger question of local taxation, even though they should come from a body so important as that for which you speak. The Government will not fail to bear in mind the interest which you inform me is felt by the Central Chambers in this matter, and I have already communicated to the President of the Local Government Board the terms of the letter which you have addressed to me. I
A COTTON TREE. I A Mexican journal is responsible for the astonishing announcement that an experiment had been carried on during the last five years, aided by Government, in growing a cotton tree found in the woods on a private estate. It has been demonstrated, so it is claimed, that this tree can furnish cotton equal in quality to that of the Texas cotton plant, but with a longer fibre; and that growth of the tree is very rapid, the production of each tree from the fourth year being 3001b. or 4001b. It is stated that the Government has dis- tributed 10,000,000 seeds of the Jalisco tree among planters in the country.
HATS FOR THE KING. Directions were given by his Majesty before leaving England for the preparation of a great number of hats of all descriptions for the forth- coming season. The style of silk hat chosen this year by the King will be seen on none but the Royal head (says the "Daily Mail"). The hat will have a broader brim with a well-accentuated" curl," a deeper crown and a little more bell" than the hats which even his Majesty's best-dressed subjects will wear. The King is the possessor of what is known to hatters as a" good head." Those whom Nature has not favoured in this important particular may be interested to learn that his Majesty takes a seven and an eighth." Even if it were possible for an ordinary citizen to obtain the King's style oJ silk hat," remarked an ex-Royal valet, the probability is that he could not wear it. Not one man in ten thousand could wear it satisfactorily, for it is built on special lines' with careful regard to his Majesty's excep- tional breadth of shoulders, the configuration of the face and appearance generally. Moreover, its shape gives the idea that the hat is unusually large, and yet when on the King's head there is no smarter or more perfect-fitting headgear. Careful though the King is in these details of dress, it must not be concluded that he is in any way extravagant. His Majesty is nothing of the sort. And yet I saw the statement in one of this morning's papers that the King's present order for hats numbers close upon a hundred Nothing could be more absurd." HislMajesty has abandoned the Tyrolean hat of green, with the curling cock's feather at the back.
I A PARLIAMENTARY JOKE. I The Austrian Chamber of Deputies a few days ago was the victim of a practical joke which has caused huge delight throughout the Empire. As is well known, the Deputies lack that dignity and reserve which is so conspicuous in our own House of Commons. Not infrequently, for instance, a speech delivered by one member is rendered quite inaudible by the ill-mannered bowlings of those opposed to his views. A few-Clavs ago, during the sitting of the House, the President received an urgent message that a tradesman was without bearing an enormous assortment of dog-muzzles, which he stoutly insisted had been ordered by the President (whose duties, it may bo added, are similar to those of our own Speaker) to be delivered at the Chamber. In support of his contention he exhibited a letter, purporting to be signed by the President, which stated that he had immediate need of a large number of muzzles of all sizes specially suited for the quieting of noisy dogs. How thank- ful we ought to be; says the "Manchester Guardian," that such a joke would be entirely pointless if aimed against our own dignified law- makers.
The Hon. R. J. Strutt, in his report to the Royal Society, estimates that the amount of radium delivered every year by the King's Spring, Bath, is about one-third gramme, or about five English grains. A soldier at Toulon opened the veins inbis wrists and neck, and then, after stabbing himself twice in the lower part of the body, drank two bottles of laudanum. Finally, he threw him self from the third-floor window of tbe baroaka-
HOME HINTS. I HOME-MADE BLACKING.—Mix together lib. treacle, lib. ivory black, 2oz. oil of olive, 2oz. vitriol. To CLEAN A SINK.-To clean an earthenware sink that has become rough and discoloured scrub with a little paraffin oil and soap. Well soap the scrubbing-brush before adding oil, or you will not get a lather. To MAKE STALE BREAD LIKE NEW.—Take a loaf and just let the tap run 011 it a second. Place it in the middle of a moderate oven for one hour. You can do as many loaves as desired, providing the oven is large enough. GINGER CAKES.—Three-quarters of an ounce of powdered ginger; lib. of flour, well dried lb. of moist sugar; ilb. of butter. Mix these ingredif-uts 2 with water to a stiff paste, cut out in desired shapes, bake on a tin in slow oven. To CLEAN SILK.-Get some raw starch, and mix it in a little cold water. Then get a piece of clean linen rag, and dip it in the starch, rub it on the silk. Leave it to dry. Then brush it df with a stiff brush. It will be found almost as good as new. To STIFFEN HAirEitusHr,,s.-WD,,sli the brush in warm soapy water, and rinse in cold water, and then lay the brush in a bowl of water in which two ounces of powdered alum have been melted. Leave the brush in soak for 2-i hours, and then take it out and leave it to dry. To GLAZE SHIRTS AND COLLARS.—The articles should be first starched in cold starch and then ironed damp. Next a piece of flannel is dipped in some powdered French chalk and rubbed smoothly on each article, after which a piece of white curd soap is rubbed over the chalk. Pin ally, j the articles are ironed on the right side only with a moderately hot iron, and when finished will have the effect of white porcelain. GINGER-BEEP.POWDERS.—Powdered loaf sugar, 4oz.; carbonate of soda, 5 drachms; powdered ginger, 1 drachm. Mix .these ingredients well together, divide into 12 equal parts, one of each of which put into a blue paper. Then tartaric acid, loz. Divide into 12 equal parts and put each into a vvllILe; pFr Diocut"Ci fclio cuiiLtJUCS Or one ui: the blue and one of the white papers each in half a glass of water. Pour one upon the other and drink while effervescing. A SOOTHING BATH MIXTURE.—I have never known this bath mixture fail in inducing sleep if the patient is rubbed well with it, and afterwards dried and rubbed vigorously with a Turkish towel. Four ounces sea-salt, 2oz. spirits of ammonia, 2oz. spirits camphor, 8oz pure alcohol or spirits cr wine, and one quart of hot soft water. Dissolve the sea salt in the hot water and let stand till cold. Pour into the spirits of wine the spirits of ammonia and camphor, and mix well by shaking. Then add the salt water, shake well, and bottle. HOUSEHOLD POLISH.—I have used (says a J correspondent) the following for many years, and proved it to be a very economical and reliable polish. It can be put to so many uses, as it cleans furniture, floorcloths, stained floors, all varnished paint (any colour), brass bedsteads, in fact, any varnished or glazed surface. To all of these it imparts a brilliant polish, with very little labour, rendering the surface smooth and perfectly free from any stickiness." Pour half a pint of boiling water over 2oz. of beeswax, loz. of white wax, and a small piece (the size of a walnut) of castile soap. Stir all well until dissolved, and when nearly cold, add half a pint of turpentine.—" London Journal." DUTCH PUDDING.—Ingredients Spongecakes, strawberry jam, pint table jelly (raspberry), j bananas, and cream. Soak the spongecakes in a little sherry, place some strawberry jam on them, and cut in fingers. Place these in the bottom of a round glass aish, then peel the bananas and place on the top of that, then a layer of raspberry jelly made the previous day. Repeat this until the dish is full, and cover the whole with whipped cream. A NICE PUDDING.—A very delicious pudding may be obtained by covering the bottom of a shallow piedish with stale bread, broken into pieces, and covered with golden syrup. Then take two eggs and one pint of milk, beat these together and pour over the bread and syrup. Grate over the tcp a little nutmeg, then bake the whole to a light brown. AN EXCELLENT SUBSTITUTE FOR CREAM TO EAT WITH FRUIT.—Beat the yolks of two new- laid eggs and strain into a pint of new milk with two lumps of sugar. Put it on the stove and stir it one way till it becomes as thick as common cream. This also does to mix with tea. How TO WASH KID GLOVES.—Provide your- self with a piece of brown soap and a saucer with a little new milk in it, and a clean cloth or a towel folded three or four times. On the cloth, spread out the glove neatly and smoothly. Take a piece of flannel, dip it in the milk, then rub off a good quantity of soap on the flannel, and begin to rub the glove downwards, towards tbe fingers, holding it firmly with the left hand. Continue this process until the glove, if white, looks a dingy yellow, and, if cole -red, till it appears dark and spoiled. Put it to d-y, and old gloves will soon look nearly new. i- They will be soft, glossy, smooth, well-shaped, and elastic. BAKED DATE CUSTARD.—Take twelve ounces of dates, clean, stone, and chop them (not too small), six ounces of breadcrumbs, three eggs, three gills of milk, four ounces of caster sugar. Put the crumbs in a basin with a tablespoonful of the sugar, and just moisten them with a little of the milk. Thickly butter piedish and spread a layer of half the wet crumbs on the bottom. Then put the dates and spread the rest of the crumbs on the top, press and smooth with a spoon, slightly whisk the eggs, and sugar and milk, give another whisk, and pour into dish. Bake brown in a moderate oven. Can be served hot or cold. "LEAP YEAR" CAKE.—Twelve ounces of flour, 6oz. sugar, Soz. butter, 1 tablespoonful milk, grated rind of one lemon, 5 eggs, half teaspoonful of baking powder, Mb. glazed cherries, 2oz. almonds. Cream, sugar, and butter well, add eggs alternately with dry ingredients, with exception of the almonds and half the cherries. Bake in a deep round tin. When poured into the tin arrange the almonds (which should be blanched and cut in half) up- right, leaving room between each nut for a cherry. Bake for one-and-a-quarter hours in a slow oven. RADIUM HASH.—Cut some slices of cold roast or boiled leg of mutton, trim off all fat and siftew. Melt two ounces of butter in a frying-pan, and add one tablespoonful of red currant jelly. When it simmers put in the mutton and let it heat slowly: turn it, and do not allow it to get too crisp. Put a mould of mashed potato on a hot dish, arrange the meat on it. Add a tablespoonful of vinegar mixed with a little dry mustard and a squeeze of lemon juice und a little good gravy into the pan, thicken the sance slightly with cornflour, and pour it round the potato. GALANTINE OF VEAL.—A galantine may be made with 31b. breast of veal, Jib. sausage meat, 4 2oz. breadcrumbs, 2oz. beef suet, one teaspoonful of chopped parsley, half a teaspoonful mixed herbs, one raw and two hard-bciled eggs, i-Ib. lean ham, salt, pepper. Bone the meat, first removing the thin skin on the outside; and make an ordinary veal stuffing with the breadcrumbs, suet, chopped parsley, herbs, salt. and pepper, and the grated rind of a lemon. Mix these ingredients with the raw egg; and spread over the veal; then cover with the sausage meat, and on that place the ham cut in long thin strips, and the hard-boiled eggs which have been cut into quarters lengthways. One or two truffles may be added if liked. Roll up the meat tightly and place in a strong cloth, boil in stock for two hours, then take it up and turn into a clean cloth, and place the roll between two dishes with a heavy weight on top. When quite cold remove the cloth, and brush over with melted glaze. Garnish with aspic jelly, placing a few pieces cot like leaves on the top, finely chop some jelly, and put it round the galatine on the dish.
KEWS NOTES. The hostilities between the military force accompanying Colonel Younghusband's mission to Tibet and the recalcitrant natives—resulting as they did in disaster to the latter-are re- grettable, but must be considered unavoidable. We gather that the inhabitants of the Chumbi Valley show themselves particularly glad at the news of the defeat of the Tibetans. The Chinese report that preparations for a stout defence at Khangma, about forty miles north of Guru, have been made. Five hundred cavalry and seven thousand infantry are said to be waiting for the British force there. A mysterious M. DorjierF at Lhasa is apparently exercising a predominant influence there. He has been given one of the highest oiBces in the State. Dorjieff, who is a Russian officer, has been twice in Lhasa during the last five years. He is a Mongol, and was for a time connected with the Prussian Legation at Peking. His influence, which is strongly pro-Russian, is great with the Dalai Lama OWillg to the fact that he is brother of the Taranath Lama, or high priest, of all the Buddhists of Mongolia. We shall have to teach this person that Britain means in India to safeguard the peace of the border line." One must expect that the Russ and the Jap wiil shortly u come to the grip on land, by all accounts. There is a great gathering of fight- ing men on either side. Thus the Chinese general in Fentein estimates that there are now 220,600 Russian soldiers in Manchuria. Japan, on the other hand, has now 260,000 troops in motion, and fully 60,000 more under arms. It is believed that the Japanese intend to operate in three armies, each nominally of 1 men. We shall be shortly having great news. Both the Crimea and the Indian Mutiny were included in the war service of the late General Sir Fowler Burton, whose death was the other day announced in his eighty-second year. He entered the army in 1839, and in the Crimea served with the 97th Regiment. At the siege of Sebastopol he commanded the Light Company in the sortie on the night of Decem- ber 20, 1854. and succeeded in — ruling one sepoy rebellion he com- manded the Sharpshooters of the Jounpore Field Force, and vras present at the siege and capture of Lucknow. He afterwards went with distinction through the Central Indian campaign. He belonged to an old East York- Z, shire family. The brigand has by no means yet been improved off the face of Europe. We learn that the leading oculist of Vienna, Professor Fachs, while travelling in Sicily with his daughter and another lady during Easter, had an exciting adventure. The party were taking a walk from Palermo to the Bocea di Falco, when at a point on the road where it leads through a thick wood four brigands suddenly appeared, and two of them presented pistols at the professor's head and demanded -1 alms." Professor Fuchs handed the men his purse containing about £ 6. As they did not seem content with what they found in it he also handed over his gold watch. To the great relief of the party the brigands then dis- appeared. The professor had in his pocket notes amounting to nearly EIOO. Would not the free-booter be sore if they knew F Mr. Spencer had a quick passage by balloon from the Crystal Palace to Folkestone, under the hour-and-a-half. Even the South-Eastern and Chatham Railway could scarcely beat that! Apropos, Dr. Barton expects that the airship on which he has been engaged since last June will be ready for its first flight in about a fortnight. The crew will include two black cats, Botha" and De Wet," who are to be taken for luck. Dr. Barton's thirteen-year-old son Dudley will have sole control of the pumps. He is one of his father's most useful assistants, and is responsible for an excellent model of the airship, which was seen at the recent Motor Exhibition at the Crystal Palace. In aeroplanes the inventor of this new cratt is placing his trust. His adventure is, indeed, intended to test the capabilities of the aeroplane. The balloon attachment is merely being used to prevent foolhardy risk of life. With regard to the Near East, it is reported that arrangements have been made for calling out the Ilaves, or second Redifs, for a general mobilisation, and for the despatch of troops from Beyrout to Salonika. The recent ship- ment from Salonika to Beyrout of a large quan- tity of sandals and gaiters for the men of the 5th Army Corps is perhaps significant as indi- cating that the Syrian troops have been provided with the footgear which experience has shown to be the best adapted for Macedonia, the country in which they will eventually serve. The men liable for service in the Reserves have been informed by an order from the Seraskier that a mere monetary payment will not suffice, as for some years past, to procure exemption this can now be done only by finding a bedel," or substitute, as was formerly the rule. Turkey, the Seraskier declares, is not in want of money, but desires to be able to place in line the greatest possible number of combatants. All these measures are taken as symptoms of an intention not only to prepare for other eventualities, but, in particular, to force a war on Bulgaria-unless Europe places her veto on the westward movement of the Syrian Army Corps. The outlook is ominous. a-=
RAILWAY MISHAP AT GLASGOW. At Gushetfaulds, Glasgow, on Easter Monday afternoon, when the Glasgow spring holiday traffic wa.s specially heavy, a train made up of _S 4 ;ts tore Caledonian waggons jumped the points and tore up the permanent way. A locomotive coming in the opposite direction was caught by the derailed waggons, with the result that both lines were blocked. The driver and fireman of the locomo- tive remained at their posts after the accident to shut off steam, but escaped with only slight in- juries. ———
CHAOS HST A CLOAK-ROOM. An extraordinary afiair happened at Blackpool Tower on Saturday night. The weather being raw and wet, thousands of holiday makers crowded into the ball-room, and several hundred: articles of female outer wear were deposited in the cloak-room department by the dancers. Be- tween eight and nine o'clock these were dis- covered flung together in a huge confused heap, suggesting a visit of thieves to the room. The tickets fixed to the articles had become hopelessly mixed, and the demands cf applicants could not h3 satisfied. The place became packed to suffo- cation with a clamorous crowd, and the police had to be called in. Scores of trippers -were eventually compelled to leave without their jackets. "There still remains a large quantity of unclaimed clothing.
On September 16, 1901, was born at Santiago a child baptised under the names of Louis An- toine Menuel-Dachuna-de-Souza, the act of registration being immediately transmitted to the archives cf Arcis-sur-Aube (France), for the boy entering upon the world with so royal a string of names was no other than the great- great-grandson of Danton. Visitors to China are particularly struck bv the numbers of pairs of boots hung in separate wooden cages in the archway of the main west gate of lisuan-Hua, the valedictory gifts of beneficial prefects. It is an attractive custom in Ciiina to invite a departing magistrate whose rule has been popular to leave a pair of oid boots for suspension in a prominent place as a hint to his successor to follow in his foolStepb. It is a considerable honour to be asked to leave these boots, and the people make the request, all the more eagerly because they believe in th. efficacy of the hint.