“ That is all. Have I not told you all this long ago 2’†I cry, angrily, goaded by the reflection that each word that. I speak only makes matters harder. †Why do you bring the subject up again ? Mush you too be unkind to me? You cannot have believed H I sin uét. It does not makieVIh-c‘a more unhnppy to marry you than to marry any one else.†H What an answer I†exolaims Marma- duke, wihh a groan. " Is that 8.11 the con- solatjpn ypu agn ago: me ‘1’" “Don‘t say ‘no‘ if you mean ‘yes.’ Put my feelings out of the question, and tell me hongstly It you ï¬re yuhappy about it.†"‘Phyllis.†he says, presently, in a. low bone, †in seams to me a. horrible thing that the idea. of your marriage should be so dia- taatetul to you †"No, no'; not distasteful,†I witlldepreoation. We are separated now, and I stand alone, gazing down into the rippling stream that runs noisily at my feet. Already two or three bright stars are twinkling overhead and shine up at me, reflected from below. Mr. Cerrington lets the distance widen between us While regarding meâ€"I feel rather than seeâ€"with moody discontented ewe. '71 am not cold,†I reply; “and I am afriid to face papat†I am clothed in white muslin, a. little open at the throat, and with my arms half bare. A piece of blue ribbon deï¬nes my waist, a. bow of the same hue is in my hair; the locket that contains his face is round my neck; a. great crimson rose lies upon mypoaom. " Of course not,†he answers. “ I quite understand." But his voice has lost all its enthusiasm, and somehow his words drag. “ Had you not better come back to the house, Phyllis? You will catch cold with- out your hat and in that light; dress.†But'és I don’é at all feel sure what it is I do mean, I break down here ignominiously and {glapse into awkward silence. “ Of course I doï¬â€™t mean that,†I say, con- tugpdly, “_I_onVIy-â€"r’r‘ “ It is a horrible place in Yorkshire, where nobody lives, except my aunts. They want me to go to stay there next week for a month. , The hateful old things wrote inviting Dora, and When she refused to go papa insisted on viotimizing me in her place. If you only knew aunt Martha and aunt Priscilla, you would understand my abhorrenoeâ€"my detestationâ€"of them. They are papa's sistersâ€"the very image of himâ€" and trample on one at every turn. I would rather die than go to them. I would far rather marry you.fl I hardly g-uéaa the signiï¬cance of my last words until I see my lover whiten and wingejn the tyilight. "It is disgraceful your being made wretched in this way." exclmms Marma- duke. wrathfully. “Tell me what has vexed you ?" He is non aware or the Misses Vernona’ existence. “ Where is Qualma- lay ‘2†“ Oh, no, no,†I say. reooiling from him; “ not that ; I did not mean that. I did 'not want to run away wich you. Next month will be soon enough. It was only they insisted on my going to Qualmaley, and I was determined I would not." †You shall not stay an hour longer, if you don’t wish it,†returns my lover, rather unateadily. “ Come with me now, and I will take you to my sister‘s, and will marry you tmmorrow." “ Next month ; early next month. I will be ready than. You must tell papa. so this evening, and take me away soon. I will show them I will not stay here to be tyran- nized over and tormented.†I burst into bears, and bury my face in his coat. " I do," he answers, calmly; but his arms tighten round me, and his face flushes. “ 1 will marry you when and where you please. Do you mean bo-morrow ‘Iâ€"nexu week ‘2â€" when ?" “ I want you to marry meâ€"at once." I breathe rather than speak, my hasty run- ning and my excitement having well-nigh stifled me. “ You will, will you not? You must. I W111 not stay here a moment longer than I can help. You said once you wished to marry me in June; you must wish it still.†His arms are round me; he pressea his lips gently to my forehead; in is a. rare thing this kiss, as it. is but seldom he caresses me. knowxng my antipathy to any demonstrative antentiona; but now my evident affliction removes 9. barrier. Usually my greeting to him is a hand outstretched from my body to the length of my arm. Now I cast myself generously into his embrace. I cling to him with almost affectionate fervor. He is very nearly dear to me at this moment coming to me as a. sure and certain friend. “My darlingâ€"my life!" he exolaims, “what is it? You are unhappy; your eyggare full of trouble." I run swiftly, an irrepressible Bob in my throat, down the lawn, past the paddock, and along the banks of the little stream, until, as I come to what we call the “ short out" to Briersley, I run myself into Mr. Carringbon’s arms, who is probably on his way to Summerleas. “ I would not speak of ‘ nnderhand work,’ it I were you.†returns she, smoothly, with an almost) invisible flash from her innocent blue eyes. I fly through the hall and into the open air. I feel suï¬ocatad, half choked. by my angry emotion ; but the sweet evening breeze revives me. In is eight o’clock, and a delioxous twilight pervades the land. " Phyllis l†roars papa, making 9. wild grab at me as I sweep past his chair ; but I avoid him deï¬antly, and, going out, slam the door with much intentional violence behind me. “ Do not let us discuss the subject fur- ther," says papa, in a loud tone. “There is nothing so disagreeable as public teatim- ination. Understand once for all, Phyllis, the matter is arranged, and you will be ready to go next week.†“ I will not!†I cry, passionately, rising and flinging my napkin upon the ground. “ I have made up my mind, and I will not go to Qualmaley. Not all the fathers in Christendom shall make me." Ah, the present! Its page presses close to our face, And we miss the sweet lesson it reads ; Ah, the pee“ It is far, and we study its grace, And ponder its words and its deeds. And yet they are one : We are clnsping to-duy What to-morrow we’ll High for in van) ; Then gather the sunshine, rejoice in its my, And banish Lhe smrow and pain. Why mourn for the birds that have flown far away 1) There are plenty in summers ahead; Why cure for the flowers that erewhilo were any ? Others bloom, just as sweet, in their steed. 0 1 fair were the yesterdays, bright were their hours, And precious their histories o'er; Yet ling of the now, with its largest; of powers, The sunshine and joy at the door. Thoughdgreet were the heroes that suï¬ered of 0 V And many the noble ones gone, As true still remain With their story untold ; All hail to the heroes unborn! Rejoice in the past: with its memories sweet, Reioice in the present as well ; Some day; with fond tours we‘ll its story re- pea. And all its proud victories toll. Than (£11.?riah the heart that now hints in the s n a, Kiss lips that now offer good cheer. Be kind to the one who is nearest thy life, The hand that now toileth. O spare I Some day you may yearn for response to your touch, When the heart that now throbs will be cold ; Then lavish the sympathy 1100de so much, And whisper the love long untold. Author of "Molly Buwu,‘ “The Baby," “ Airy Fairy Lilian," etc , etc. PHYLLIS. Now lhe Accepted Time. BY THE DUCHEEB interrupt, “ Yes, I think so,†with an amused smile, and puts his arm round me and kisses me very gently. “ And now we are going to be happy ever after," he says laughing a little. All through breakfast I am in a. hazeâ€"a. “ Oh, Mirmtxdukefam I really Hail-$6?" I say,gazing at him with half-frightened W683 “:1 p9 WS- “grown up ?†How short; a. time ago I stood in my bridal robes in mother’s room, still Phyllis Vernonâ€"still a. girlâ€"and now â€"â€" Why, it was only a few minutes agoâ€" “A! ‘ I start and blush faintly as the new title strikes upon my ears, and almost forget to thank him in wondering at its strangeness. Then Marmaduke kisses me gravely, ahd, givmg me his arm, leads me back to the carriage, and it is all over I Am'Iindeed no longer aohild? Is my wish accomplishjd, and am I at last °__. I write myself Phyllis Marian Vernon for the last time; and 811: Mark Gore, coming up to me in the vestry-room, slips 8 beau- tiful bracelet on my arm, and whispers, smiling: “ I hope you will accept all good wishes wifh flameâ€"Jigs: qu{ir;gton.†Marmaduke is also extremely psle, but perfectly calm and self-posessaed, and has even a. smile upon his lips. As he sees me he comes quickly forward, and taking me from papa, leads me himself to the altarâ€" a proceeding that causes much excitement among the lower members of the congrega- tion, who, in loud whispers, approve his evxdent fondness for me. So the holy words are read, and the little mys§ieal golden fetfgr ggoigolus‘gny ï¬nger. At 8 o'clock Martha knocks at my bed- room door and hands into us a sealed packet, with “ Marmaduke’s love†written on the outside, and opening It We disclose to view the Carrington diamonds, reset, remodelled, and magniï¬cent in their bril- lianoy. This is a happy thought on his part, and raises our spirits for twenty minutes at least: though after this some chance word makes our eyes grow moist again, and- we weep systematically all through the morningâ€"during the dressing, and generally up to the very last moment â€"so that when at length I make my appearance in church and walk up the aisle on papa’s arm, I am so white and altogether dejected that I may be considered ghastly. As the eventlul day breaks, I wake and, rising, get through the principal part of my drqssiugrwitboujï¬idf Dora, who at ï¬rst declared her determi- nation of leaving home during the festivi- ties, on second thoughts changes her mind, having discovered that by absenting herself the loss of a. new dress is all she will gain ; she consents frostin to be chief bridesmaid. The two Hastings girls, with Bobby De Vere's sister and two of Marmaduke’e cousins, also assist; and Sir Mark Gore is chief mourner. Presents come in from all sides, Bobby De Vere’s and Mr. Hastinge’ being conspicu- ous more from size than taste. Papa so far overcomes his animosity as to present me with an astonishing travelling-desk, the intricacies at which in takes me months to master, even with the help of Marmaduke. Roland, coming from Ireland for the sere- mony, brings with him from the Emerald Isle a necklet too handsome for his purse; while Billy, with tears of love in his dark eyes. puts into my arms a. snow-white rab- bit that for six long months has been the joy of his heart. As Madame charmingly and rather shop- pin expresses it, my wedding-dress is a “marvel of elegance and grace"â€" and lace she might have added, as Brussels is every- where. Indeed, as I see it and think of the bill that must follow, the old deadly fear of a row creeps over me, chilling my joy, until I happily and selï¬shly remember that when it does fall due I shall be far from Summerleas and papa’e wrath, when I become once more enthusiastic in my praise. I even insist on exhibiting myself in it to Marmaduke three nights before my wed- ding, though all in the house tell me it is so unlucky so to do; and Mrs. Tully, the cook, with her eyes full of brandy-and- wauer, implores me not to be headstrong. First of all mother takes me up to Lon- don, and puts me in the hands of scale- brsted modistc, a. woman of great reputation, with piercing eyes, who soowls at me. prods, taps, and measures me, until I lose sight of my own identity and begin to look upon myself as so many inches and ï¬ngers and yards embodied. At length, this terrible person expressing herself satisï¬ed with the examination, we may return home again whither we are shortly followed by many Wicker-framed oil skin-covered trunks, in which lie the results of all the measuring. Everything is so fresh, so guy, so dainty, that I, who have been kept on such low Everything is so fresh, so gay, 80 dainty, that I, who have been kept on such low dish with regard to clothing. am enraphured. and as I dress myself in each new gown and survey myself in mother‘s long glam, sustain a. sensation of pleasurable admira- tion that must be conceit; in an “ugly duckling.†“ So you did. In my folly I hoped time would change you. What a oontemptibla lover I must be, having failed in eight; long mouths: to gain even the affections of a Ohlld. Will you never care for me, Phyllis ‘1" “ I do care for you,†1 return, doggedly, forcing myself to face him. “ After mamma. and Billy and Roland, I care for you more than any one else. I like you twenty thousand times better than papa. or Dora. I cannot say more.†me madly in love with you, as I have told you :40 the cgnï¬ragy ages qgg.â€_ _ I tap my foot impatiently on the ground; my ï¬ngers seize and take to pieces wantonly the unoffending rose. As I pull Its crimson leaves asunder I drop them in the brook and watch them float away under the moon’s pale rays. I would that my cruel worQa could so depart. And in three Weeks we are married. In three short weeks I glide into a. new life, in which Phyllis Carringtou holds absolute sway, leaving Phyllis Vernon of the old daysâ€"the H general receiver†of the blame of the iamilyflto be buried out of eight forever. I feel angry, dmconsolate, with the know- ledge that throug‘; my own not 1 am cruelly wounding the man who,I must confess it, 13 my truest frienl. I hull think of apolo- glzing. of saying something gentle, yet withal truthful, tlmt shall take away the sting I have planted. A fsw words use to my llps. I miss my head to give them utterance. Suddenly his arms are around me ; he is kissing me with a passion that) is full of sadness. There is so much tenderness mingled with the despair in his face that I, too, am saddened into silence. Repentanr, I slip 8. hand round his neck and give him back one kiss ouu of the many, “ Don‘t be sorry," Iwhiuper; “something tells me I shall yet love you with all my heart. Until then beat with me. Or, if you think it a rink, Marmaduke, and would runner put an end to in all now, do so, and I will not be angry with you." “I would not. I would far rather trust myself to you than stay at home afterwhab baa passed.†My voice is trembling, my lips quiver faintly. “ But it one of us must; be unhappy, let it: be me. I release you. I would not †So hand in hand we return to the dragon’s den, Where, Mr. Catrington having faced bhe dragon and successfully bullied him, peace is restored, and it is ï¬nally arranged that in three weeks we are to be married. “Min-a proba'bly you would be thankful to me,†her answerqd, bit§quy. His eyes are ï¬xed on mine; gradually a. softer light creeps into his face. Putting up his hand, he smoothes back the loose hair from my forehead and kisses me gravely on my lips. “You are my own little girl,†he says, “ my most precious possession; I will not have you inconsiderately used. Come, I will speak to your father.†“ Don’t be foolish, child,†he makes answer, roughly, " I could not release you. even it I would. You are part of my life and the best part. No; let us keep to our baflmin now, whatever comes of it.†In a minute or two Marmaduke wakes and tufng pnepsily. subs. When this last picture ï¬rst presents itself to my vivid imagination I am in bed, and the idea overcomes me to such a degree that I ï¬nd myself presently in floods of tears, unable altogether to suppress my flhkm Agsm. supposing both to be sentenced to death,s.nd supposing also it is in my power to save one of them ; which would I rescue? Marmaduke of ooursel Ihaul him triumphantly from his gloomy cell; but as I do so my Billy‘s beautiful eyes, ï¬lled with mute despair, shine upon me from out the semi-darkness, and I cease to drag Marmaduke; I cannot leave my brother. For instance, I picture to myself Billy or he condemned to start in the morning for Australia, never to return ; one or other must go, and the decision rests with me. Which shall I let go, which shall I keep? 1 send Marmaduke, and feel a. deep pang at my heart ; I send Billy-«the pang becomes keenest torture. I lay little plane ; I map out small scenes, to try how far my aï¬ectxon for my husband wig go, All too swift in its happiness flies the day, and Marmaduke comes to reclaim me. Yet the strange sense of rest and completeness that ï¬lls me, in the presence of the old beloved, distresses me. Why can I not feel for Marmaduke that romantic. all-sufï¬cing devotion of which I have read? I certainly like him immensely. He is everything of the dearest and best, and kind almost to a. fault ; therefore I ought to adore him ; but somehow I cannot quite make up my mind to it. One should love a husband better than all the rest of the world put together ; so I have heard, so I believe ; but do I? Oh,the delight, the rapture, of the ï¬rst meeting, when the ï¬rst day after our return, I drive over to Summerleee: The darling mother’s tearful welcome, the “ boy Blllee’a" more boisterous one. Even Dora, for a moment or two forgets her elegance and her wrongs, and gives me a hearty embrace. And how well I am look- ing, and how happy! And how pretty my dress is. and how becomingl And how they have all missed me. And just tanoyl Roland is really engaged to the “old boy‘a" daughter, after all; and the colonel himself writes about it, as though quite pleased, in spite of her having such a good fortune. “ What: is the inatter, Phyllis,†he asks, Lady Blanch Goingâ€"~with whom we stay aweekâ€"»of all the cousins interests me most; though it must be confessed the interest is of a disagreeable nature. She has a charming house in Park Lane, and the softest, most fascinating manners; she is in every point such as swell-bred woman ought to be, yet with her alone I am not happy. For the most part looking barely twenty-ï¬ve, there are timesâ€"odd moments when the invariable smile is off her faceâ€"â€" when I could (anoy her at least seven years older. Now and then, too, a suspicious gleamâ€"too warm, as coming from a decorous matronâ€"~falls from her sleepy almond-shaped eyes upon some Iavorite among the “ the stronger†sex, and 1 can- not forgive her in that she makes me appear the most unsophisticated, childish bride that ever lett a nursery. So that 1 am glad when we leave her and move far- ther south to our beautiful home. Cousins and aunts and friends are nume- rous, and for the most part so kind that restraint vanishes, and I tell myself people- iu-law are not so formidable as I have been led to believe. One thorn, however, remains among my roses and prioks me gently. I listen to Sir Mark's clever, airy little oration that makes everybody laugh, especially Miss De Vere, and wonder to myself that I too can laugh. Billy who has managed to get close up to rueâ€"keeps on helping me indefatigably to champagne, under the mistaken impression he is doing me a. last service. I catch mnmnm's and eyes ï¬xed upon me from the opposite side, and than I know I am going to cry again, and, rising from the table, get. away in safety to my own room, whither I am followed by her. and we my our few ï¬nal, farewell words in private. We spend a. fortnight in London on our way back, when I am presented to some of mxhuaband’sitelations. dream. I out what-they put upon my plate, but I cannot eat. I listen to Marmaduke’s few words as he makes the customary speech and think of him as though it were yesterday and not: 80-day. I cannot realize that; my engagement is over, than what we have been preparing for these nine months past in at last a. settled fact. “Very good. It is easily arranged ; and next year we can come and get through what we now leave undone. They must be wanting us at home, I fancy ; there are the birds and everything,†concludes Marma- duke, in a reflective tone, which is the nearest approach to 8. return of reason he has yet shown. Three hours later I have embraced mother for him last tame, and an] speeding away from home and friends and child- hood to I know not: What. W'e have been murried nearly three months. and are going on very comfortably. AH yet no cross or angry worda have urluen between us; all is smooth as uuruflled Waters. Though Marmaduke is, if auynhmg, tender of me than at ï¬rut, he is perhaps a. shade less slavishly attentive, For exam- ple, he can now enjoy his Times at break- fast and rem is straight through Without: raising his eyes between every petrugrupl], to make sure I am snill behind the heupou and have not vamahedmbo mid air,or to ask me tenderly it I would Wish to do this or carj to go mere. 7 “Would you really ‘2" rising eagerly, and coming into the embrasure ol the window. " Would you like to get back, darling? Not yet [or a. little while, of course,†with quick correction, “ but later on, whenâ€" ~†“I would like to start at once.†Iory, frankly, flinging hesitation to the Winds; “ as soon as possible. I am longing to see every one; and do you know, ’Duke.†sweetly, “I have yet to make a. neat acquaintance with our home.†famile up to him and am satlsfled my words have caused nothing but the extrem- eal: content. “Is it likely I should forget it ‘2†senti- mentally. “ For my own part, I think the wood on the other side of Strangemore handsomer than Briersley; but of course in was too far away from Summerleas for you to know it well.†' Another pause, longer than the last. and more_ eloqpepb. W “How 1 should like to see itâ€"nowl†] murmur, with faint emphasis and a hero‘ icul[g_suppressed sigh: He has also learnedâ€"which is more aatiafucwry shillâ€"than it; is possible to know emoymenu even when 1am out of sight. Two months of delicious thoughtless idleness we spend in Spuiu and Switzer- land, and thenâ€"we pine for home. This latter secretly, and with a sworn determi- nation that each will be the last to con- fess it. One calm and glorious evening, however, after dinner, as I stand M. the window 01‘. our hotel, gazxng over the lake of Geneva, something wxbhin me compels the following speagh : "‘How beautiful Strangemore must be lookiyg 119er l††Ye's,†he says, with energy, “ it never ooka so well as just: at this time of year." †So I should think.†A long pause. “ English scenery is always at its best in the autumn. After all there is no place like Englandâ€"I mean. of course for a con- tinuanoa. Don’t you agree wnh ma, dar- 1mg?" “I do indeed. Dear Brieralay Wood! How fond Billy and I were of it. You remgmbqg‘the gluqlp 9g nut-trees. ’Duke '1†CHAPTER XVII “Perhaps so. But, really, now, Mal-ma. duke â€"seriously, I men would you not Wish me to be older? Say twenty-ï¬ve or so, with a little more knowledge of every- thing, you know? And, in fact, I mean would t not be better if I were more of a woman of the world ?†" Don’t be unoharitsble, Phyllis ; she could not think anything so absurd. Be- sides, she told me herself one day she liked you immenselyâ€"hoped you and she would be tremendous friends, and so on. Blanche is too good-natured to treat any one as you say.†“ I don't think so; she rather gave me the impression that she looked down upon me, as though I were foolish and not Worth much consideration.†“ Is that a. fault? I never met any one with such a. veneration for age as you have. I tell you, Phyllis, there is nothing on earth so desirable as youth. Be glad of it while you have it; it never lasts. I dare say Blanche herself would not mlnd taking a. little of it oif your hand, ifâ€"she only could.†“ Oh, must you ask her ?†I exclaim, dis- contentedly. “I don’t think I quite like her; she is so aupercilious, and seems to consider me soâ€"so young.†“ Then my deserfphion belies her, Her- riet is very charming and ageneral favorite, As for Sir James, he simply adores her. _I dare say she will bring Bebe with her.††Who is Bebe ’2†“ Bebe Beatoun 7 Oh, Handcoek’s niece, and Harriet’e ‘ mosteherlshed.’ Fortunately, her mother is at; present in Italy, 80 slaw, can’t come, which is lucky for us all, as she is a dame terrible. Then we must ask Blanche Going.†“ Oh, horror of horrors I" cries ‘Duke, “ I like that, But from whit she must be a terrible person." ' U ml a A M N a J A ~ A ‘ ' ‘ I pinch his ear, and perch myself com- fortably on the arm of his chair.††Is she anything like you ?†“You could hardly ï¬nd a. greater con“ trust, I should say, in every way. Sheis extremely fairâ€"quite a blonds-not much taller than you are, and rather fat. She has a. considerable amount of spirit, and keeps Sir James in great order; while I am a. dejected being, tyrannized over by the veriest little shrew that ever breathed.†“ Your modesty, my dear, is quite refresh- mg in this brazen age. Of course. if Har- riet expresses disspprobation of my choice, I shall sue for a. divorce." “ Oh, Murmuduka, what shall I do if your sister does not like me? In would make me so miserable it she disapproVed of me in agy way.†" Now, whom shall we ask ‘2†says ‘Duke, seating himself, and drawing oub a. pencil and pocket-book with an air of business. while I look over his shoulder. “Bartlet is staying with old Sir Willim at present, but; next: week she will be free. She will come and James. I am so anxious you should meet each other.†“Never,†replies ’Duke; “you ahall give us a dmner in any earthly style you choose, always prov1ded you let: us have agood one. There I†“ And Famous will see t0 that,†I say. partially consoled, drawing my breath morglightly. “No,†with deep dejeobion; “one ie as bad as ahe other.- in ember place I shall be horribly osnepicuous.†Then, after a. brief hesicamon, and with a. decided tendency to fawn upon him, “Marmaduke, we will have all the things handed round: won’n we, now? I shall never have anything to carve, shall I ‘1†anxiously. “ Is anything wrong with you, my garliug?" r V “ But you are crying,†he remonstrates, reaching out a kindly hand in the darkness that is meant for my face, but: alighta unex- pectedly upon the buck of my head. “Tell me what is troubling you, my pen." “Nothing at all,†I say again; “I was only thinking.†Here I stifle a. foolish sigh born of my still more foolish tears. “Thinking of what?" †OE Billy,†I reply reluctantly. And then, though he says nothing, and though I cannot see his face, I know my hushand is offended. He goes back to his original position, and is soon again asleep, While I lie awake for half an hour longer, Wurrymg my brain wnth trying to dirCaver what; there can be to vex Murmuduke in my weepmg ova! Bllly. “No, no“' nothing.†I answer hastily, and buryï¬my nose in the pillow. “ Of course,†83am vialbrlryflix‘nused. “ Surely you would not; hke to an at the bontom ‘3" Saul I am happy, ubturly so, as one musn be who is winhoub care or narrow, Whose lighteï¬b Wish meets mama: fulï¬lment, and lens and lets frequently 1 am haunted by the vague fear of ingtumudeâ€"by the moughn of how poor 20. return I make for 3.11an good uhuwered upon me, as I H88 how uuffloleut I mm (or my huubund’n hap- pluth; wnxle only on rare ocum’nunu dues he betray hm pusxiunube longlng for a. more perth hold on my heuru by the suppressed bun evxdenn jealousy wnh wlnch he regards my love for my family. CHAPTER xvm. “Whom would you llke to invite here for the abouung?†mks Marmaduke, at. manhunt, Do my aununernunlun. “Ibup- poue Wu mm beater till the house ’1’" “ No, no," I say. hsrolcally; “ let them come. It; Is very snupxd of me to feel nervâ€" ous ubuï¬iï¬. I dare any I shall like them all immensel) when they are once here; and â€"audâ€"perhups they too will like me.†“My darling chlld, how can you say so? Unhappy because afew people are kind enough to come and pay you a visit. You say 1 do not ‘ care for you‘ because I ask you to be clvil no two or three women!" Here he laughs again a. little, though evi- dently aguluan 1115 will. “Oh, Phyllis! if you are gomg to cry I will not say another word uboub in. Como, loo kup, my pet, and I promise to forget our frxends for this unnumn at least. We W111 spend in by our- selves; though I must; ooufessâ€â€"regtenfully †Small doubt of they,†says my husband, heartily. “Phyllis, you are a darling, and when they leave us you shall tell me how tremendously you enjoyed it: all.†“Duke,†1 'suy, v'v1'm faltering tongue, “ muss I sin at the head of the table 7â€- _ "On, ‘Duke,†I cry, 1n terror, “must you (10 man? And mush I entertain them all ‘3 ’ “I suppose no,†replies be, laughing; †nhougu 1 dare any n you mll lea them alone obey w111 ennernam themselves. If you get a. good mnny men and women nugether they generally cautrive to work one man own umursemeub.†“ I have new EU few people in my life,†I say, duupemnely, “ and none of them grand people. That is, lords, 1 mean, and that. I wall be frightened out o! my life." This last sentence appears to afford Mar- maduke the llveliesn amusement. He laughs until I begin to feel really hurt at his want of sympathy. “ You donâ€t; o-uu'e 'Ior me," I cry, with petulant reproach, “ or you would non try to make mg eq>uuhuppy.’»‘ â€"“ It seems no me a sin to leave in tbObB birds in peace. Now, M0 you satisï¬ed '2†But I am not; I am only ashamed of myself. 1:; thin childish fear for strangers the proper spiria for an grown-up married woman to betray? 1 dry my eyes and make u secruc determiuuliuu no go nhrough thh it, no matter what in costs the. u r r v- '- J """ “My acqualnuanoe with lords is not so excenuve us you seem to imagine. I know a. few other people. \Ve will llmit the lords, it yo}1 wish to." “Nonsense, darling! I will be hereto help you it may grow very dangerous. and get: altogebher beyond counrol.†“ on, map 15 all very well," I say, feeling inollued to cry, " but you wm be oua shooting all day, and I wxll be lets at home no speak no them. I dou’n mind the men so much, but the women will be dreadful.†‘* Barouebs and very rich people are just as bud.†James Edwards (colored), of Richmond Ind., has been sentenced to a year in the penitentiary and ï¬ned $100 for marrying a white woman. Potatoes are a. drug in the markeiiï¬Ã©Ã©m- bridge County,New York, selling for 20 cents a. bushel for starch m1lls. General Grant has been placed on the retired‘list with £1111 rqmlï¬ and fullyay. Good busts rejects excessive niaety; it treats little things as litt-le things, and is not hurt by them. Honor of the United States met in Chicago yesterday. They will continue in session about ten days. «The old custom requiring ssleswomen in dry and fancy goods stores to stand all day long without rest or relief is being superseded by more humane rules in many of our leading business houses. Lydis E. l’inkham’e Vegetable Compound is highly praised by those who have not yet been freed from the old necessity for constant standing; and is a. genuine blessing in every such case. as well as to the tired~out housekeeper who must be on her feet all day. 1 A hearty meal was prepared for the sol- dier, but he still Iives.â€"Arkansaw Traveler. *‘ Bile me a. ham, cap’u, stew up a couple 0’ chickens, bake two or three hoe-palms, fetch a gallon 0’ so 0‘ butter-milk, and load yer guns. With sioh inducements, the mun what wouldn’t be w111iu to die is a blame fool.†replied _: ‘5 All right, general.†The Arkansaw man, exhibiting no alarm, said ; ‘ ‘ The ofï¬cer understood the joke, and “ Eat I†exclaimed the general ; “did you 10m the army merely to get something to em ?†“ Wall, that’s about the siza of it." “ Here,†calling an oflioer, “ give this man something to eat, and then have him shot.†‘ "General, wheï¬ do your reckin’ we‘re going tg‘gfat Bozpqthiqg t9 eat 7'†General Forrest was once approached by an Agkansqw man, who asked: 'l‘oo lumluu to Marry. A girl too modest to marry has been found at Madison, Georgia. Her name is Miss S. A. Lochlin, and her accepted lover was Mr. J. L. Christian. All the arrange- ments for the marriage had been made. and the wedding day appointed. The local historian ea) s: " That morning Mr. Christian received a letter from the lady stating that she had fled the country before daylight; that as the dreaded moment of the marriage approached her dread of the developments of the married state drove her into such a state of cowardice that she could not meet it. She enclosed $5 to pay for Christian’s trouble in getting a license. He immediately went in pursuit of her, and found her yesterday in ()conee county. She fell upon his neck, kissed him wildly, and declared that she would nevor be parted from him. A second attempt at marriage was made last night, but in the last mo- ment she swooned away at the thought, and the ceremony was again postponed. It is believed that modesty in this excessive form is not general." raising his hands in affected terror. " How can you suggest anything so cruel? If I were married to a. fashionable woman I would either cut and run, or commit suicide in six montha.†“ Then you really think meâ€"-â€"â€"“ I has ibate. It has been generally believed for a long time that sooner or later the scientists would discover the secret of indeï¬nitely prolonging human life. Why people should cease to be young in appearance andfeeling when, in reality, they are young in years, and why they should grow old, fall into the sore and yellow leaf and shufllo off this mortal ceiljust when they are beginning to enjoy life, are mysteries of a tantalizmg and yet fascinaiing character. Butgeneral reflections are not in order in discussing a matter of such vital interest. The world Will learn With breathless interest that the scientists have at last succeeded in agreeing upon a course of treatment which, they think, will have the effect of suspending the encroachments of old age. The fact having been noted that, after passing mid- dle life the process of ossiï¬cation becomes markedly developed until it ushers in senile decrepitude, it has recurred to our scien- uiic friends that the arrest of this ossiï¬c tendency would naturally waid off or delay the coming of old ago. To make it still plainer suppose we put it in this way : Old age, instead of being an accumulation of years, is simply a slow but steady accumulation of calcareous matter in the system. The prevention of the deposit in any considerable quantity of this cal careous matter is a bar to the approach of the physical and mental decline called old age. It would be interesting to follow these scientists step by step in their investiga- tions and discoveries, but within the limits of this brief article we have barely space for their conclusions. The main point is the method recommended for the preven- tion of calcareous accumulations. Of course this is a matter of diet. We must use bread in moderation, fruit in abundance. ï¬sh, poultry, young mutton and veal. Nitrogcnous food must be avoided. The next thing is to drink several glasses of distilled Water con- taining ten or ï¬fteen drops of diluted phos- phoric acid every day. This has the effect of dissolving any caloarcouï¬matter in the system. Believers in the Malthusian theory will probably view this discovery with disapprobation, and it is not to be denied that the effect will be to augment our population. To some extent it will create a revolution in the business world. If our middle-aged men go to dosing them- selves with distilled water and phOsphoric acid instead of †red eye.†there is no telling how long they will last, and their refusal to be laid on the shelf will delay the pro- gress of our young men, or make them push forward with redoubled energy. The future experiments of the scientists in the tussle with old Father Time will be watched with intense interest, as the result intimately concerns us all.â€"â€"Atlanta Constitution. Jacob Huï¬ord, a. veteran pioneer 87 years of age, and who resided about eight miles south of Toledo, in Wood county. was buried Tuesday. He died last Saturday evening after an illness of several weeks. During his illness he was twice supposed to be dead, and twice were arrangements made for his burial, when he recovered. He was a Dunkard in his religious faith and was highly honored and respected by all who knew him. About 500 people attended the funeral, and pro- bably onefourth of that number were relatives. For half a century he has resided on the place where he died, and in some respects his funeral was some- what remarkable. Thirtyï¬ve years ago he cut down a walnut tree, which he had sawed into lumber, a portion of which was placed in the loft of the “ new barn †that he built that year, for the purpose of mn- struoting his coï¬in when he died. Here it remained until the time of his death, and, at his request, his son-inelaw, John Limmer, constructed the burial case in which his remains were laid. In compliance with his request, also, his remains were conveyed to the grave by the 27-year-old pony that he had been in the habit of driving for so many years, and on each side of the little animal, leading him by the bits, were two old gentlemen of the Dunkard denomina- tion, who were aged nearly four score years. Six old men acted as pull bearersâ€"Cleve- land Herald. An Eccentric fllnn’s Funeral. [low to Dety Old Age. \Vns wuuug. (To be continued Reason is, so to speak, the police of the kingdom of art, seeking only to preserve order. In life itself, a cold arithmetlcian who adds up out follies. Sometimes, alto only the accountant in bankruptcy of a broken heart. The eldest daughter of Lord Lytton, though only 14, has taken up the famin pen and written one of the moat blood. curdling ghost stones that have seen the light for many a. day. Now it in not implied that people literally cry, but they would if they could. For in- stance, you have the most painful come that mortal ever suffered from. Well, you need not have them, for a. bottle of Putnam's Painless Com Extractor will remove them in a few days without the least pain. This is a. much more sensible procedure than making a. fuss over them. Therefore use Putnam’s Corn Extractor, and you will‘ laugh and grow fat. I DB. NORMAN Kann's recent book, “The Truth About Alcohol," is the work of a total abstainer, yet the author begins by referring to some of the popular errors of teetotallere, and advises them to lay aside some of their habitual arguments. These errors areâ€"~that the brain is hardened by alcohol, that the red blood corpuscles are changed by it, that in all circumstances all doses of it are poisonous, that all drinks containing even the smallest proportions of alcohol are evil, and that alcohol does 1not exist in nature. Dr. Kerr does not regard ginger beer as an intoxicant, in spite of its being a fermented liquor and a “beer,†but he does consider any drink containing more than 1.5 per cent. of alcohol â€"equal' to 3 per cent. of proof spiritâ€"in- toki‘cating. Cider, perry, pale ale, beer and clarets are intoxicating drinks. In giving the testimony of physiology the poctor re~ lutes the current opinion that intoxicating beverages arrest waste and take the place of food. His computation that 40,000 per- sons die annually in the United Kingdom from the direct, and nearly double that number from the indirect, eï¬ects of intern- peranoe is believed to be correct. ON the way by rail from Oregon is a car containing 20,000 pounds of fresh salmon. which is to be delivered in nine days from the time of shining at New York. Should this experiment be nuccesnful, frcï¬h Oregon salmon may be familiarly wide to the p19.- oards and the cries 0f the street vendors in eastern cities. VVODD pavements have been and are gradually taking the place of asphalte in London. This example has been followed to some extent by Paris, where many streets have been recently paved with wood. Some time ago pavements of tiles were experimentally tried in London. This tile pavement'has now also been introduced in Berlin, where cubes 20 centimetres (7-8 inches) square and 10 centimetres (EH) inches) thick, and impregnated with bitu- minous products up to 20 per cent. of their volume, are employed. The cubes are laid on concrete 15 centimetres (6 inches) thick, and the joints ï¬lled up with-hot tar. It is afï¬rmed that this description of pavement is superior to wood pavement. Whilst the latter is liable to absorb organic products of composition like a sponge,and thus form a. hotbed of disease, a tile pavement is com- pletely free from those drawbacks. It permits the water to flow off freely, and lasts much longer than wood pavement. THERE is a. movement in Massachusetts for legislation under which the holding of forest property will be more secure and, therefore, more attractive that it is at present. By protecting forests from ï¬res, and by equalizing or lightening the burden of taxation upon such' property, it is be- lieved that owners will be induced to allow their trees no grow to maturity, Instead (‘f cunning them down as soon are they are large enough to be of any commercial value. THE curioue theory uf Americas Symmes than Lieub. Greely end his party are safe in the beauuiful land of “ Symzonie,†some- where iu the region of thepole, is entertain- ing. But we are not sure about the loan tubes havmg gone there to reside. The Russian tradition says it is Sb. John Whu was driven up there mud esteblmhed the colony ; and Maurice Jokui, the Hungarian novelien, deecribeeit as the home of the “ Electric Men." Sm STAFFORD Nonrncom, the Opposi- tion leader in the British Commons, cunly describes what, in vulgar soaiety, “ bonnet †is. He said: †A ‘ bonnet ’ is the decoy who lures the thimbleqigger’s victim to his doomâ€"«the innocent-looking, urtless countrymsn who is ‘ sure he knows ’ where the pea. is, and who thus is enabled to bring into aid wealth to the coffers of the chief villain of the con- federscy.†To THOSE persons who wish to grow thne and who have tried to no purpose all the known systems of living to reduce their obesity, a. correspondent recommends 8. trial of the following which is strongly ad- vocated es amounting to an almost infal- lible cure for getting rid of superfluous fat: Only eat three times s. day, never take or y- thing to drink between meals and only ht 16 a pint of liquid at meals. The amount of liquid taken has much more to do with the making of fat than the quantity of to d consumed, although at no meal should more than a. moderate amount oi solid food be taken. One correspondent afï¬rms that by following out the above regime he lost one pound a. day in weight, and felt no lll effects Whatever from it, and he further states that to a men of moderate appetite the amount of solid food is of no import- ance ; it is the quantity and not quality only of liquids consumed that makes the differ- ence in the amount of fat. Des. UNGAIi and Bodlander, of Bonn, have recently been engaged in examination of meats preserved in tin cans, and report that “ a not inconsiderable quantity of tin passes over into the conserve.†Experi- ments on dogs and rabbits showed that the tin was absorbed by the intestinal mucous membrane, and it was detected in the secretions, heart, liver, kidneys, spleen, brain and muscles. They think that the reason so little is yet heard of tin poison- ing is because the introduction of the canned foods is comparatively recent, and their prices so high as to make the con- sumption limited. GEORGE WILLIAM CUBTIâ€, the United States orator, pays a high tribute to the character of Mr. Gladstone as a man and a statesman in Harper‘s Magazine for June. Mr. Curtis says: “ This is the year in which the other great English-speaking nation calls one of its citizens to the chief executive magistraoy. Happy that country if it summon to that ofï¬ce a statesman so commanding, conscientious and courageous and a man so spotless as the English Prime Minister 1 Looking at Gladstone7 and then across the sea at our Presidential contest, the Englishman may be pardoned it he is not quite ready to abandon a political system which brings so great a man as Gladstone into the direction of the Government, and even the American may wonder Whether his system of select- ing the chief magistrate is eurer than the English method to bring the real chief of a party to the executive chair.†“’lml is Ilia Use 0! Crying CURRENT TOPICS. «r l’ LACE 170 secure a. Busiues ’ Education or H mncerian Pen manahi at t e SPENCER , I) IAN B amass OOLLEGI Betta Mich Circulars tree Y0 u N G learn steam engineering and earn $100 per month Send your name and ICC. in stamps to F. KEPPY Engineer. Bridal-mart. Ct I). VETERINARY MEDICINES. Addres; with stamp, DR. W. B. MASON & (20., Marshall Mich, U. B uunyuul. muumumu's anu uennml Lao: Throat and Ear Hospital. 317 Church St: Toronto. Artiï¬cial Human Eyes, ~â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€". WW 5 fl [have A nnsith'n rmm-(h' {Ur Um uhnvn lHknnun' h" All kinds of [log Products handled, also Butter, Cheese. Eggs. Poultry, ’l‘nllow etc. Pat. Egg Carriers supplied. Consign- mcnlu nolicluzd. 83 Oolbome acne!) Toronto GIBB & GALLOW ._ v _ _ _ _ _ . . _ a .. _ v - [haw a pnsitlvo rmm-dy {or the uhuve disease, - rm use thmvnnds or Cnst or the worst kind and of on Btandinghnvo hwn cu ,d. ImIm-«l, H0 strung: ls mv {alt in Its emcncy. that I wlll send '1‘\\'() BOTTLES FREE, to, gather whh u VALI'ABLE TNEATISE on this disease any HuflOl‘orA‘yl’xo Exlgf a mu! 1’ mhlfuss. This is always the case when I’olson’s NERV‘ILINE is applied to any kind of pain; it is sure to diaappear as if by magic. Stronger, more penetrating, and quicker in actlon tlmu any other remedy in the world. Buy a bottle of Nerviline to-day, and try its wonderful power of relieving pain of every destriptim Pain cannot stay wtera it is used. It in just: the thing to have in a house to meet a sudden attack of illners. Only 25 cents a bottle. Sample bottles only 10 cents at. {my druggist’s. (A v ' >LTAIC5 BELT and mum 14xm~r1m . *4 AW FOUL «m RU J)n)’s' ’I'rlnl TU MEN UNI/Y, YOUNG 0]: OLD, wlmuru Hum-r- in: from Mammy DUXILITY‘ his-r \‘ITMJTV. \VASTISG \VFAK and all lhnsc disonsvsof fl Puma Al. Nn'uxul. rosultlng lrom Anusris and (mu (MUN Spomly relief nml complete rI'SlUJ'aUml to Tlmmm "mm and Mnnom) GUAllAVTllliD. Sl'llil at once fur Illustrated I'umplllot from .Allth'o :3; Voitaic Belt 00.. Marshall. Mich. Work it} proceeding rapidly with the great; railway tunnel under the Mersey. The tunnel will be 3;; miles in length. lt IE rumored iu XViudHor that a. number of Detroit crooks are connecting; 8. plan to effect the escape of Luke Phipps. The authorities at Windsor Me on their guard‘ \)()VVEV('T,LLUd should any mtempt) of the kind be mude it is lik83y to remit disus- trously for those concerned In it. 3% EBAY? V «v m. 5‘ ‘ 9 r: / For n“ of those Painful Complaints nud * * \Vt-akm-Hson no common to our best ' * * *FEMALE I’OI’ULATION.* * *.*l*l 1T wnm (THE IINTIIHiLY Tm: WORST FORM 01" FE. 1mm: COMPLAXXTH. ALL (\mmAN leuans, 1);. mem'rmx mm I'vazchTmN. FALLING AND D13- PLACEMENTS, AND Tm: ('(L cm XT SPINAL \VEAK- .' 10:1) 19 PARTICULARLY ADAPTED TO THE (1, “may: OF LIFE. * .H. * * * ,9 f“ 3, * IT wm. meow}: Axn EXT 1. Tmmns FROM Tmz‘ FT 1' man ‘.\1{l.\'STAUhUI“l)1-2\l-L(H’MENT. Tun“ T T '\"I‘()( mum‘s Humans THEREISCIIECRED \"J-‘m‘ H-mzmm M H‘s 1731i. * * a. * 4* z * v'\ -.«-c w~~<~ v vv IT l.L..H>\ 1 .x 1 Ar ‘ PM». I‘MTLLEMY, DEsTnOTs Al.1.(‘|l.\\'I\«; y «'rnnm,\\'1‘s, ANIMUZLUIVES \VEAK-j h12\'()l‘ 'l'H};$'J‘IHL\<'II. IT (tltmzs BLOATIXO, HEADJ ACII . Nmu'om I’llUSTRATION, GENERALDEBILITY, DEPRESSION AND 1mm 'me. * * * * * * ’I‘JI w FEB! my Bum f(.' I)()\\'?\', (nu'smn PAIN, \\‘ ‘ T AND BM (Am. "ALWAYS I‘EXIMANBNTLY mm BY ITS L * * * * * * ii * 1'1" WILL AT ALL ’I'I‘IHIS AN!) FNDER ALL CIRCUM- STANCES ACT IV IIAIK‘YONY “'1'â€! THE LA‘VS THAT (POYHRN 'l'lHi FEMALE SY>TERL * * * * . * mb‘ITs rmu'm H SULJLY 1‘01: TIIHLEGITIMATK HEALING 0}†1m . >1: AND TIH‘ RELIEF OF PAIN, AND THAT IT 1mm A H; H mm.“ '1'0 1m, TIIUYSANDS 012' I ADIIJS (‘AN ( ‘TULY Tllt‘ [PYT‘n‘il * 99 * * Fm: Tm: (:I‘m: MPLAIVTS 1N EITHER SEX THIS 1‘ ' , _ 4" i * LYDIA 1'1. I‘INKIL , ABLE COMPOYND in prepmw-d m Lynn, Ma‘s‘ Price $1. Six lmttlvs for 85. Sold byull drug/(ï¬sts. Smlthymzlil,1m 3:0 paid, in form uf Plus or Imzvngvs on J'Nvipt «If p1 w abovv. Mrs. J’inklmm's “Huim- (u lh‘nlilx" will be: u]. d {rm to any Lady sending: 511mm. In-Hw 4 (*nxxrhlvnlinlly:111;M'crm1. . “ Nu family should hn \v “I ’HJï¬. 'JIII" Ty“ . LYBA E. PINKHAM’S * VEGETABLE COMPOUND}; * as * x- * IS A POSITIVE CURE * *',*:* ,*1 GENTS WANTED TO SELE Begin; to beglu 1a lmlf the work EYE, £343 AND Til/2041‘. ‘R. G. s. RYEâ€"ESON, L. R. 0.1). young or old. Snip EVERYWHERE. ESTABLISHED 1889‘ Price 256, and $1.00 per Bottle. 'DR'. TIA. SLUCL’X, m 1*hur15t..vaYm-h As it by Magic. |\.L.lu\l(h) AUAL'Ahu '1U THIS“ *******Av* 'n Exmcr. Tmrons FROM Tnu‘ _ Mm: (m DEVI-'LOPMENT. Tux“ M‘s Humans THEREISCIIECRED LSE.* * 4. * 4. 1" NIBS. FLA’I‘ITLENUY, DEsTnoTs : . \'I‘:~‘, AMvmmnzvms \VEAK-j I. IT (11' :5 BLO,\T1X0,1IEAD~‘ mumm (HFV1I‘HAT,T)I‘1HYVMV