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Aidimr of “ Molly L’au‘n.” “ The liuzby.’ " Airy Fairy Lilzkm," L’{(:., ctr. During the morning of the (lay on which Lady Handwck is expected to arrive, I feel strangely nervous and unsettled. Idou’t seem to care so much for any Ono’s good opinion as for hers. If Marmaduke’s sister refuses to like me, I shall take it very hard indeed, and I do not dare to flatter myself that it may be otherwise. Probably she will be cold and haughty and indifl'ercnl‘, like the generality of grand dames,or,worse still, supercilious and filled with awell-bred mockery only half concealed, like Lady Blanche Going. As she has written to say they will not {L'I‘iVC until five o’clock, I put on my out- door things after luncheon and wander forth alone in Search of good spirits and a frame of mind so altogether radiant as shall help me to conquer fate towards evening. As at four o’clock, however, 1 retrace my stops, l mu by no means certain I have found any- thing beyond a brilliant color. . . y om." To say she is inclining towards mn~ bonpoim will, however, sound less shooking to cars polite. 1 have heard from my hus- band that she is about thirty years of age, but in the quick glance [take at; her I decide she might be any age under that, she is so white and soft and gay. 1 gross the threshold and move towards the staircase with the laudable intention of robing myself for conquest before their com- ing, when to my consternation I am met by Tynon, the butler, with the pleasing: intelli- gence that “Sir James and :Lady Handcock and Miss Beatoun "' have already arrived. They have entered my doors with no host- ess to receive them or bid them welcome 2 What will they think? How awkward it has proved, my going for [fixat stupid walk I ,L AL m,” H, n’vvuu, MAJ sun‘s nu uAulv DVM1)A\L u...” . I smother a. groan, fling my hat at Tynan, and, just as I am, with my hair slightly dis- arminqu enter the drawingroom. 1 1 “Oh! here she is,” 553's ’Dukt‘, g1adly,as I enter. Atothc upper end sta‘fids Marmaduke, laughing and talking gayly to a fair-haired, prettily-dressed woman, who, in a lower class of existence, might be termed “bux- “I am so sorry!” I mm‘mu)‘, with :L rising culox’, commg qulckly forward; “but we did not expect you nntxl five o’clocx.” As I ad 'ancc, so dnes she, and when we meet she lays two small plump, jewelled hands upon my shonldem ' “It wits all my fault,” she says. smiling. “When you know me better you will under- stand that 1 cannot help being in a hurry. However, you must forgive me this time, as my appearing at this hour is in itself a flat- tei'y, proving how impatient I was to Sue you.” Then regarding me attentively, “Why, what a child!” she cries; “ what a, baby! and what delicious eyes! Really, Marmaduke, I hardly know whether most to congratulate orfipity you.” _ 7 7 Sim speaks witfi a’cfiI‘iously pretty accent, putting an emphasis on every third or_fourth word that fascinates and pleases the listen- 81‘. “Pity.” return I, amazedly, making an unsuccessful effort to elude her firm grasp, while the indignant color flmncsiubo my cheeks. ‘ You speak asif--=w/1y should you [My him ‘3" r u . I-r , “Because cannot you fancy what a life you are going to lead him,” says her lallyship, with a. little arch laugh that wrinkles up her Grecian nose. “Gluld, I too have eyes, and I can see mischief written in every line of yourâ€"ugly little fame.” I 1‘- I try to feel angry, but cannot. It; is in her power to make every word she utters an undeveloped compliment. I succumb at once, and forever, and give myself up to her merry true-hearted influence. Putting my frowns in my pocket, I laugh. “If you keep on saying these things be- fore ’I)ul;c,‘7 I say, “he will find me out, and perhaps in time repent his bargain.” , i V . . ‘ w.” . 1 -â€" 7 K . . ‘ V lie-re I make a Ilttlc mum at my husband, who is standmg rather behind his sisttcr, whlch he returns \Vlth interest. “How do you know I have not found you out long ago? It is my belief I married you for my sins. Harriet, 1 leave her now in our hands; reform hen-if you can.” “Go and look after James,” says Lady Handcock. “He al\\'ays gets into mischief when left by himself. I want to make friends with Phyllis." " She is hardly as tall as I am, and won- derfully pretty. No néed to disbelieve the report that last season all men raved other. Her eyes are large and dark and soft, her hair a very, very light‘ brown}, :cllough hard- By and by Miss Beatouu comes in, and ] get through another Introduction. It may be He has been waiting 7 For the 00min ’ of my feet, Some gift of suc 1 rare value. Some joy so strangely sweet, That. my lips shall only tremble, 'With the thanks they cannot speak. Oh. restful, blissful ignorance Tbs blessed not to know; It keeps mo, still in those unus Which will non let me go, And bushes my soul to rest In the bosom Lbth loved 1110 so. So I go on not knowing; I would not if I might, Lather walking with God in the dark Than going :Llonein the light; Rather walking with Him by faith, Than walking alone by sight. My heart shrinks back from trials Which the future may disclose, Yip}. I nqvcr had 31 solg'ow) ’ fin vs min I: efii‘ Lind chose; So 1 shall send the coming: tears hack, \\’ilh the whispered word. “He knows For perhaps the dreaded future Hus less bitter than I think; The Lord may sweeten the waters Before I stoop to drink: Or. if Mamh must be Marah, He will stand beside its brink. 1 know not what shall beful me. God brings a. mist o'er my eyes. And o'er each step in my onward path, He makes new scenes to rise, And every joy ho sends me Comes as a sweet surprise. I see not a ste before me, As I tread L 0 days of the yearI But the past is still in Gods keeping, The future His mercy shull clear, And what looks dark in the distance. May brighten as I draw near. >g3111én1’1‘fihlv gifiltless of dye. WA tiny HY THE DUCHES‘ CHAPTER XIX. PHYLLIS. N at Knowing. i¢o4¢wv>u “Very. Much you‘ilger even that I dared to hope. Of course "â€"to mea“we all heard you were quite a girl; yet that did not reas- sure me, as it can be said of most brides,and as a rule they are a. disagreeable lot. But you have forgotten to give yourself airs,and that is so novel and delightfulâ€"so many young women will go in for that sort of thing. I feel,” says Miss Beatoun, gayly “I am going to have a delicious autuum,and to be very happy.” “I hop'e soi’fvl answer, earnestly. “ Do you know, Lady Handcock, l quitu dreaded your coming?â€"it kept me awake several nights, thinking perhaps you would be cold and (lifilcult, and would not like me ; and now I am so relievedâ€"you caxmut fancy what a weight is off my miml.” I say this with such evident feeling that they both laugh heartily, and Bebe gives it as her Opinion that 1 mm a. “regular dar- ling.” “But you 11:11:31; not call me Lady Hund- Cock,” corrccfs my sister-inllaw. “My name is Harrietâ€"0r Hurry, for the most part. I do not want to he made an old wuman just yet, though Bebe will tell every one lam 1101' 41111117. instead of saying James in; her 1111- ole.” As 1 look at her, I decide hastily she is more than prettyâ€"film is attractive. Her whole face is full of light; the very corners of her mouth express unuttercd laughter; it is altogether the most ricmte, kiesable, love‘ able face conceivable. Her hands and feet urgafairy-like in their proportions. black mole, somewhat like. a Queen Anne’s paf’fch flows cloge tovhgr l_c_ft gar. “ Nevertheless, her eyes, though unusually soft; betray the coquettc; they cannot en- tirely conceal the mischievous longing for mastery that lurks in their velvet depths. “Is Ehe not young,” Bebe?” asks Lady Hanflcockti‘ndipating me. “It is the only hold I have over her, you see,’ exclaims Bch, “and I keep it as a threat. But for knowing I have It in my power to say that, she would be under no control. And with mumma so given to iti- nerant habits, and Harry being my natural r'hflperH, I have to protect myself as best I may.” By dinner hour our party is siill furt her enlarged by Dora, Mark Gore, and Sir G Gorge Ashurst, a. very fair young man,w1th an aequiline nose, plump face, and a long white moustache. He at once impresses me with the belief that he is thoroughly good- naturcd, and altogether incapable of ill- temper of any kind. Perhaps, indeed, if he were to smilea little less frequently, and show some symptoms of having an opinion of his; own, it would be m1improvcment. int what will you? One cannot have every- thing. And he is chatty and agreeable, and I manage to spend my eVenings Very com- for ably in his society. The “next day Cafitain Jenkins and Mr. Powell, from the barracks at Chillingtun, put in an appearance; and a. very youthful gentleman, with n. calm and cherubic coun- tenancc, arrives from London. This latter is in the Hussars, and is full of a modest self- ppreciation very much to be admired. “\Velthhips, so you have come, in spite oi all your engagements,” says Marmaduke, slapping his fair-haired warrior aliectionate- ly upon the shoulder. (His correct namcis John Chippinghall Thornton; but his friends and brother officers have elected to call him “Chips ” or “Chip,” he usually goes by that appelation. Though why I have never been able to fathom, as it would be a two pal. pable flattery to regard this very erratic young man as a “chip of the old block,” his father being a. peculiarly mild and offen- sive clergyman, residing in a northern village.) “\Vhfit did Lady Emily say to your de- fection, and Maudie Green, and Carrie, and all the mist of yournfriends?” nu, .u “Oh, I say,now,” says Muster Chipsnvith an ingenious blush, “ it isn’t fair to show me up in this light is it? â€"a11d before Mrs. Cax'i'iugton, too. She will have no opinion of me if she listens to all you say.” “I am only anxious to hear how you tore yourself away from their fascina- tore tion 5. “Yes, do tell us, Mr. Thornton,” say I. “W e are so afraid that you have sacrificed yourself to oblige us.” .1 “Don't you beheve a word Marmaduke says, MN. jarrington: he is always repre- senting me falsely. I shall be unhappy for ever if you won’t understand how proud and charmed I was to receive your invita- tion. J mat to Show you how heexa‘ggerates, the Carrie and Maud he spoke of are my cousins, and that's the same as sisters, you know.” “\Veil, at all events they have every one gone off to Germany or country houses, so they must do without me. I couldn’t go trotting after ’em everywhere, you know: do enough of that in the spring’ to last the year. And. besides, I don’t much care for any of that lot now.” “Only far more dangerous,” I return, laughmg. “N0? Tired of them already? “'hat a desperate Don Juan! Really, Chips, I shud- der to think where you will end. And who is the idol of the present hour?~vsomething more exquisite still?” ~ ~- . “Not to be named in the same day,” says NIX". Thornton, confidingly. “Fact is, she 13a sort of connection of your own. Met her last season in town, you know, andâ€"01‘ Marmaduke bursts out laughing, and so do I. "V'l‘hon, 3011 are all right,” says Duke. “W 1th yourunual luck you have fallen upon your feet. At this Instant the name roof covers you and your zlmnamoz um." “No?” cries Chips, eagerly. “ You don’t mean it? Of course you are only joking. You’re not in earnest, now, Marmadukeâ€"â€" are you?" “Seeing is believing,” returns Duke. “But if you don’t go and dress yoursclf this very moment you will get no dinner, and lose a good chance of exercising your fasci‘ nations upon M i‘ss Beatqun.” Later on he takes her into dinner and is supremely happy; while Messieurs Jenkins and Powell, who have reached theirthirty third year, 100k on aghast at the young one’s “cheek.” They are ‘estimnhle men, and useful in their own way, but refuse to shine in conversation. I f/Iin/r they are like each other; I am quite sure they like Mar- maduke, who draws them out in a wonder- ful manner, and makes them marvel at» their own unwanted hi'illiancy; while Harriet aids and abets him by her gayety. ‘ season 1n town, you mmw, awuâ€"m an eloquent sighv‘q moan MISS -But for Marmaduke’s assertion that they adore each other I would beinclined to think them at daggers drawn, or at least indiffer- ent; and it is only now and then when she speaks to him, and I see his eyes light up and smile and soften, that I can accept the gehtler idea. At my right hand sits Sir John, a. tall, distinguished-looking man, with hair of iron gray, and deep-set eyes. He is grave and remarkably silentâ€"auch an utter contrast to his laughter-loving wife, of whom he never appears to take the smallest notice. To me it is a matter of amazement how he can so systematically ignore her, as he seldom ad~ dresses to her a word or lets his eyes rest upon her for any length of time. v Not to his wife alone, however, is he re- served; all the rest of the world he treats in a. similar manner, and I come to the conclu- sion he abhors talking, and is a man with no settled taste or pursuits. Hearing, indeed, that his one passion is of making a. score, express myself desirious of being informed as to the express nature of the “ bull- finch.” “Explorations always fall short,” is his reply. “Some day when we are out I will show you 9110. That will best.” So my ignorance remains unenlightened, and as he calmly returns to his dinner, I do the same, and abzunlmi all hopes of hearing him converse. Dora is doing the amiable to Sn" George Ashurst. Anything so simple or innocent as Dora in her white dress and coral ribbons could hardly he conceived. I am admiring her myself with all my heart, and wonder- ing haw it is ;he (loos it; and I fancy Sir Mark Gore is doing the same. Once, as she raises the childish questioning blue eyes to her eompanion’s face, and murmurs some pretty speech in her soft treble, I see Sir Mai-k smile openly. It is only alumnienmry merriment, however, as directly afterwards he turns to me, suave and charming as ever. “How becoming white is to your sister!” he says. “It suits hcr expression so Won- derfully. I don't know how it is, but the word ingenzm always comes to me when I look at her.” “You do her an injustice. Surely she is more than ‘pretty’â€" a word that means so little in these degenerate days. If I were an artist I should like to paint her as ‘Moonlight,’ with a bunch of lilies in her hands, and just that dress she is now wear- ingâ€"without the ribbonsâ€"and a‘ little stream running at her feet. I have seldom seen so sweet an expression. One could hardly fancy an unkind word coming from those lips, or f). hidflen motive in her heart.” AI think of our “Moonlight’s designs upon Marmaduke and the man who is now so 1011 l in her praise. I think of the many and enâ€" ergetic fracas between her and Billy and am silent. 1 don’t; know why, but 1 am positive Sir Mark is amused. 1 color and look 1 p. “She is very pretty.” I return, coldly. I have not yet quite decided on the nature of that smile. “VVRat ages ago it seems since last we met!” says he, promptly. “AgeS? No, months. It was last June we met, 1 think»-â€"and here.” “Oh, that was only the honest glimpse ; one could hardly call it a meeting. I was referring to my visit to the Leslies two years ago. You remember that little scene in the High street, at Carston?” I laugh merrily. "I do indeed. But for you the finale would have been too ingenious. I shall al- ways owe you a debt of gratitude for your timely appearance. The saddle turned, I recollect exactly opposite the Bank, and I had a. horrid vision of two or three young men gazing at me in eager expectation from Bonie of the windows." “Yes; and then we met‘ again, am â€"»~â€"â€"- Shall I peel one of these for you?” “Please.” “And I flattered myself you treated me with some degree of gl‘uciousnessj; flattered myself so far that I presumed to send you a little volume of poems I had heard you wish for, and whichâ€"you returned. That was rather cruel, was it not?” “I have always felt how rude you must have thought me on that occasion,” I reply, hotly. “ I did so long to tell you all about it, but could not. It wast not my fault, however; I confess I would have kept it if possible: it was papa. He said you should not have sent it, and insisted on its being returned.” “\Vell, perhaps he was right. Yet it was a very harmless and innocent little volume, after all, containing only the mildcst Bentio ments. (Is that a good 0110?)” (“Very good, thank you). It was Tenny- son’s ‘Idyls’~â€"I remember perfectly; and it was filled with the prettiest illustrations. Oh, I was so sorry to part with that neat little book! Do you know I was silly enough to cry the day I posted it back to you?” Sir Mark regards me earnestly, almost curiously. I am laughing at my own past folly, but he does not even smile in sym- pathy. - “1 am sorry nnyact of mine should have cost you a tear.” he says, slowly. “ But why did you not write a line to explain all this to me when sending it?” “li'ancy the iniquity of such a thing! the very suggestion would have brought down untold wrath upon my poor head. 1‘0 ask permission to write a letter to 11 gentleman! 0h, horror?” “And you would notâ€"â€"but no, of course, you would not,” says Sir Mark, xjather unâ€" intelligiply. - Antl'thén I glance at Lady Hamlcock,a1ul she glances at; 1110. Sir Mark risus to open tlmdoor, and I smile and nod guyly at him as. 1 cross the threshold and pass into the lighted hall. We are all beginning to know cuoh other well, and to be mutually pleased with each other, when, towards the close of the w ck, Lady Blanche Going joins our party. She is looking considerably handsomerthan when last I saw her in town, and is apparently in good humor with hersolf and all th: rest of the world. How long this comfortable state of {Lifuirs may last, however, remains a mys- tery. She brings with her a. horse, a pot poodle, and a very French maid ,who makes herself extremely troublesome, and can es much dissension in the servants’ hall. Sir Mark Gore and her ladyship are cviv dently old friends, and express a .wellâ€"brbd amount of pleasure on again meetin". Per- haps her ladyship’s expressions are by a shade the warmest. ‘ “No? M‘rs. Garrington, rhow unkind of you to dismiss me so completely from your thoughts! ‘Never to mention my name !“ It is horrible to picture oneself so totally fox" gottggx.” “I mightvnot expycct it, certainly; but 1 am not to be blamed it I. cannot help hop- ing for'anything so desirable." “I had no ideau-I'should meet you here,” she winds up, sweetly, when the subject of her satisfaction is exhausted. “ Mrs. Car- rington when alluding to her other guests, nevgrv meritionedhyoqr name.” y “You could not sux'elv hope to be always in my thoughts?” I Etnswert lightly. Hér ladyghip flashes a. is}:an gilurncc at us frqu hex: 199g dark eyes. 7 “Vain hope!“ return 1 sancily, “and a, foolish one besides. Have you never heard that ‘familiarity breeds contempt ‘3" and that ‘too much of anything is good for nothing?’ \Vere I to keep you perpetually in my mind I might perhaps end byhating you.” ( K‘IYI , i nd'“' “\Vhat an appalling idea!” murmurs Lady Blanche, softly, speaking in that peculiar tone of half-suppressed irony I so greatly detest “Should anything so dreadful ever occur I doubt if Sir Mark ~would recover it.” “Tell you why I liki, you so much,” says Robe to me, one (lay, with charming can- dor (we have become great friends by this time): “you have so little of the married woman about you. You don’t look the thing at all. Nobody would feel in the least put out if you caught them doing anything, even a httle hit #77. You’d be afraid to scold, and you are too goodamturcd to ‘prcach.’ Now there’s mamma; her eyes strike terror to the hearts of the girls she chaperons- Only let her catch you with your hand in the possession of any Detri- mcuml, however delightful, and it is all up with you half an hour later.” Nobody seems to miml me in the least (as a. hindrance to their mtheropen flirtations,) though,with the exceptions of Lady Blanche all my guests appear prepossessed in my favor. I am no good at all as a (111(1‘1)m‘0n»~10c1{- ing at that necessary evil in the light of a guardian of moralsâ€"as no one, I feel utter- ly positive, would listen to a word of advice given by me, even had I the courage to speak that word, which I feel sure I have not. “I don’t suppose I shouh,” replies Sir Mark, rather bluntly, as it seems to me, Vithqut turning his head In her direction. Her laugh is an unpleasant one, and jars upon me painfully. Her very manner of rising and leaving me alone with Sir Mark has something in it so full of insolentmcan- ing that for the instant I hate her. She makes me feel 1 have said something fool â€" ish~something better left unsaid, though thoroughly unmeant. I color, bite my lip, and, without another word to my compan- ion who is looking black as night, I go out through the open window. "But I suppose your mother is right. 1 shall remember what you say, and take her as a; _m_od§l from thisjay forth. Thérc is a moment’s rather aw \vzml pause, and then her ladyship laughs lightly, and, crossing the room sits down by Bch Quatoun. So for the sécond time the little thorn on- ters into my heart and pricks me gently. A seed is sown that bears me bitter fruit. “It isn’t in you. You would make a hor- rible mess of it; and you are infinitely nicer as you are. A strong stare is a. neccesury ingredient. and you don’t possess that. You should be able to wither with a look. I hate being scolded, and I would back mamma, once started, to hold her own against any of those Billingsgute ladies one hears of. I assure you the amount of vituperation our night brougham has concealed about its per- son is enough, one would think, to turn the color of its cloth. No doubt that is why it requires doing up so often.” “You don’t {091;} any the better Tm: all the igdigpatignf’ “No, Vthat is just it. That shows the folly of wasting so much valuable breath. I am a born flirt, and as such 1 hope I’ll die. There! that is extra naughty, is it not? So, out of respect for you, I will unsay it, and hope instead I may depart this life a calm and decorous matron.” “Do you know I never had a flirtation in my life?” 1 say, almost r‘ogrclifg‘lly. “\r n ‘ “No? really! How abgurd!” gays Bebe. bursting into a muchâ€"munsed laugh. “That is just what makes you the curious, dear, darling, little child you are. But you need not be so poverty-stricken any longer unless you please, as any one can see how (70sz with you is Sir Mark Gore.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) Hr rr“â€"-OO<->>ooâ€"â€"â€"~- r~ A Dangerous Edmce. Great consternation has been caused in Constantinople by a report that the Mosque of St. Sophie is in danger of collapsing; for there is a. tradition among the Turks that the fall of this basilica will herald the dis- memberment of the empire. The mosque was restored at great expense by the Sultan Abdul Medjid in 1849, under the superinten- (lence of the Italian architect, Fossati. But the work does not appear to have been very well executed. for the grand dome, which is 120 feet in diameter and 250 feet high, is so insecure that, according to the report of the architect who has been called in by the Min- ister of Public \Vorks, it may fall in at any moment. In other respects the interior of the mosque is in a. fairly good state of pres- ervation. Among the many relies preserv- ed in the Mosque of St. Sophia is the carpâ€" et upon which Mohannned was wont to pray, and close to the place where this earp- et is suspended stands the pulpit from which the Khutib reads the Koran every Friday, holding in his hand a drawn sword as symâ€" bolic of St. Sophia having been conquered from the infidel. Another of the relies pre- served in St. Sophia is the cradle of our Saviour, which, according to tradition. was brought from Bethlehem. together with It sort of basin, in which His mother washed Him. The walls of the mosque are covered with green slabs, on which verses from the Koran are engraved in letters of gold. â€"» ~â€"‘OO<->>”Dâ€"â€"_â€" “ “VIM’I‘ is a junction, nurse ‘2” asked a 7â€" year old fairy the other day at a. railway platform. “ A junction my dear,” answer- ed the nurse, with the air of a very superior person indeed, “ why, it’s apluce where tu'o roads separate." CHAPTER X X The Railways Boomâ€"The Real Estmla Fever7~Contemptible Trickery. EGGS are scarce in VVinmpc-N. AN early spring is predicted in Manitoba. \VINNIPEG Merchants want transient, tn» ders taxed. GEO. S. MCTAWMI says he is going to be an Independent candidate for Lisgar at th‘.‘ next election. Tux South-western Railway authorities are busy preparing for the erection of the proposed permanent depot at Point Dou- 2:13.55. HANDSOME fmmxxrsâ€"James A. Johnson has presented the Methodist body with a. site of fivcucres of land near Brandon for a. college. Tm; EMIGnANT BUILDIN!:s.-_A medical gentleman has objected to the 100w ion of the building the Winnipeg authorities are erecting for the use of newcomers, on the ground of imperfect drainagewâ€"the result of which, with between two and three hundred occupants of the building, can be easily 002% jeetured. He expresses the opinion that another site should be chosen, nearer the river, where drainage could be easily seem - ed, and a good supply of water readily mm’ eh eaply procured. THE “Vinning 7772er has been the victim of two dastardly attempts to injure propor- ty. On the first occasion the fly of the la.) _ Potter press on which the paper is printed was tampered with, but the fact was disco ered in time to prevent any injury being done. Subsequently it was discovered that some one had been tampering with it again, and had also bent a. rod :30 that the press could not be worked until repaired. The perpetrator of the outrage is unknown, but. a strong suspicion exists as to his identity. The proprietors promise that on his next visâ€" it there will be some smashing done, but the chances are It will be his head and not the press. SOUTH'WESTl-LILN Manitoba. is just nor w.- tractng considerable attention on account of the wonderful preductiveness of the fauna lands. A ONE-SIDED “SYNDICATE ”~â€"A statement has found its way into print that a “syndi- cate” of four Peterborongh men, formed a few weeks ago to speculate in Manitoba lands, entrusted one of their number with the money subscribed without the execution of the necessary trust deed between the parties, that all the transactions were carri- ed on in the name of the person holding'the funds, and that when he was asked for a settlement by his confiding partners he coolly explained that as he had been doing the business in his own namehe meant to keep what he had made. EXOITHII 01" T1u«;1«4.â€"-Thcm are no 1:353 than thirty-five real estate oifices between the City Hall and the Post Oliicc,\Vinnipcgw a distance of about two hundred feet. IONCIDERABLE Dissatisfaction prevails in \Vinnipeg Post-office owing to the Corpo ‘5:- tion not having yet numbered the houses in the public streets. The P. O. Inspector was assured that: the Work would be accomplish- ed in a month, and 110 so reported to the Government, and upon the strength of his report the free delivery system was inaugu- rated. CORNELIUS NiARTINS, a Mennonite, wag tried a few days ago before Justice Bradley, of Emerson, on a. charge of forging a chequc on Hepburn & Irwin, bankers. lie pleaded guilty, but no appearance being nude for the prosecution, he was disch: :L' Six Railways are projected to run to or through Rapid City, Viz:~Souris & Rocky Mountain Railway, Portage, \Vestbournc 3’; North-\Vestern Railway, Rapid City Cou- tral Railway, Archibald & Rapid City Rail- way, Manitoba, Midland Railway, Brandon 8; Northern Railway. On Cl‘liursday night a demonstration 09 photography by means of artificial illumi- nation was given in the theatre of the Socie- ty of Arts. The lights available included. besides the electric, a Sugg gas-burner cf 200-candle power, and F. \V. Hart’s mag- nesium lamp. Captain Abney, F. t. 8., presided, and there was a crowded attend- ance. M. H. Van der Vchde, of Regent street, illustrated the progress of taking~ portraits by means of the electric light, a process of which he is the inventor. Six years ago, he said, he took up the challenge of a despairing London photographer to in- vent a method of taking good photographs without daylight. After consulting Mr. \V’harton Simpson, late editor of the I ’hoto- graphic News, he found that all previous attempts at taking portraits by artificial ilâ€" lumination had broken down from an artis- tic point of View, even the best results pre- senting a metallic or varnished suri'aee,with glittering high lights, dense shadows, and ghastly reflections. In his disgust, he at first endeavored to condense the actinic rays of London daylight by means of a. piano- convex water lens 671; feet in diameter. The glass plates exploded under the pressure of the 987 pounds of water, nearly drowning him, while the wounds inflicted by the broken glass laid him up for six weeks. llaving reconstructed his lens "with more deference to hvdraulic science, he was mor- tified to find himself, after £111,011 the wrong track. He then began experimenting with the magnesium and electric lights ; he used a copper reflector lined with silver, and the largest dioptrie light-house lens being each 4 feet in diameter. He then found that the question was not to discover a better artifi- cial light, but to turn and twist its diverg- ing rays from a point, so as to concentrate theln~malae them embrace instead of strike the sitter. In continuing his experiments he sought to obtain, first, parallel rays from the parabolic reilecter,and then to condense them into converging rays by the dieptie lens. It was at this time that he hit on the most important point in his invention; it was a small concave mirror, four inches across, placed close to the light, so as to hide it from the sitter and prevent any di- rect rays from leaving the reflector. After further details, including a claim to have been the first, in 1877, to turn gas into elec- tricity, Mr. Van dcr \Veyde, amid the loud and repeated applause of those present,eon- ducted aserics of experiments, each illus~ trative of some special advantage of his. in- vention. MANITOBA MATTERS. Phomgraphs by Electricity. London Tim 1‘!