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AS FORTUNE SMILES. A TALE OF THE OLD AND NEW WORLD. CHAPTER VI. Miss Lucy, simple daughter of nature, nursed in all the savage frankness of the wild West, and taught from early infancy to calla spade a spade,and, being a natural Woman, a true Woman. woman's most highly-prized attributesâ€"he the fair one a Parisian mondaine,an English aristocrat or a Turkish odalisqueâ€"to ob. tain from simple man what she desires and to give just as much as she wishes, and no more, in return. Miss Lucy had a shrewd little head on her shoulders. We have al- ready seen that she was endowed with a strength of will and purpose of a most un- usual kind, and by adding together these qualities in a’sort of psychological arith- metic, the sum obtained would form a re, markable example of female supremacy over the helpless animal man. Miss Lucy set her little wits to work the moment she had recovered her wonted self- possession, to extrdct by a process of insinuatory wheedling, and a pleasingly deceptive pressure of inquiry, from Lord Cleve all he had learned about her cousin, , her father and Lady Evolyne. She had no trouble in eliciting from the young man that he had once been engaged to Lady Evelyne Wynter, and thereby started Her- ‘ bert upon the idea that he must needs, in 4 his usual slapdash manner, writes. letter i of apology to the lady who had once upon a time consented to be his wife. The thought was no sooner born thanit was acted upon, and young Cleve sat down at the olddashioned mahogany bureau to pen his apology, while Lucy stood behind his chair looking over him. “The Earl of Cleve presents his compli_ ments to Lady Evelyne Wynter,” he wrote, “and desires to explain a circumstance which, he is afraid, must have surprised Lady EVelyne. Lord Cleve is afflicted with loss of memory, the result of some wounds in the head. It we, therefore, his misforâ€" tune, and not his fault, if he did not recog- nize Lady Evelyne Wynter this afternoon. He hopes that this apology will be his ex- cuse, and that Lady Evelyne \Vynter will believe that Lord Cleve could not possibly have acted towards her. in any spirit of discourtesy.” “It’s jest a bit soapy, aint it '2” Miss Lucy exclaimed, when the young gentleman had dotted all his “1’s” and crossed all his “t‘s,” “an' it’s a little smeary, like maple sugar, when yew get too much of it on yewr spoon. I guess she’s a hensuni young wo- man. Waal, it aint no matter." With lhat she danced away, apparently un- burdened by thoughtfulness or care. That was all outward show, however; ullnervous determination not to show to lhe man she loved how much she loved him. If it had been possible for a. prying eye to penetrate into Lucy’s chamber that i'iight, it would have found her walking up and down the softly-carpeted floor like a caged panther. Her bosom heaved, she wrung her tiny hands with a nervous grip, and big tears were flowing down her cheeks. At last she flung herself on her knees by the bedside and buried her head on the «overlet, while the soft masses of her hair fell like a. glossy shower around her. She sobbed, subbed and sobbcd, as if her heart would break. On a sudden, she jumped up in a silent fury, both against herself and the fortune which oppressed her. She gnashed her white teeth and tore at her hair. “God l” she cried, “don’t try me too severely ! I’m only a woman after all, and it'll soon be more than I can bear. What have I done, how have I sinned to deserve it all ‘3” The paroxysm of her grief proslrated her and she gradually sank on her knees and thence on the floor, where her lissome figure lay extended, white and cold as the gar- ments which sparsely covered her, while her babbling lips murmured: “What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? What have I done '3” Even the squalid ugliness of London architecture could not rob a summer morn- l ing of its roseate beauty, and Lucy could see the first softly blushing light of day, creeping from across the housetops, through the aperture between her curtains, ere she recovered her wonted composure. She Went ' into her dressing-room and sponged herself with could water. The touch of the refresh- ing element seemed to bring back vigor of mind and elasticity of body, and the previ- ously-mentioned prying intruder, had be seen Miss Lucy at \hat moment, would? have deemed her the most hardened of cynics. “ W aal, it’s jest another slice 0’ my luck, Is’pose,” she said, as she splashed and» flung “ an’ what cayn’t be cured ’s got to be en- dured. I’ve gone that for, an' I’ll jest see it out, I reckon." Five minutes afterward, her head resting on her sun-brouzed arm, and her bosom. moving in as tranquil sleep as acliild might enjoy, Lucy's mind was at rest. The next morning brought Lady Eve-1 lyne’s reply to Lord Cleve. told the young man that she had felt sure - that a sufficient explanation would be forthcoming, and that she had since learned from other lips, as well as from Lord Cleve’s letter, that he was not to blame. The writer ended with a statement that most likely she would meet Lord Cleve, and would then be able personally to assure him that the matter had passed from her mind. “That’s a downy young woman,” Lucy exclaimed when she had read the the breakfast table. get over her with the brass-earring dodge, I don’t rcckon. But I guess slie’siiicemonc the less. else yew’d never bin ioml o" her.” Now, it is one of i the water about her in all directions ; ‘ Lady Evelyne 1 letter , which Lord Cleve had tossed to her across ; “She knows :i cuter- ’ pillar from a skylark. A Yankee couldn’t 1 Lord Cleve smiled; he was rather pleased to see a little nascent jealousy clouding . Lucy’s face. It looked to him like an i awakening of that electric womanhood which flashes and sparkles by the contact lof responsive love, as distinguished from , that merely holy feeling which joinsmotlicr 'and child, brother and sister, in mutual affection . _ Lord Cleve’s arrival was no sooner herald- ed about town than he was inundated by a perfect shower of congratulations and invi- tations, Had the young man believed about lone tithe of what was written to him, he ,I might have wondered why the bells of Bow {Church were not rung as a token of the | universal joy at his return. He might in- deed have been persuaded that his person- ality was not only of importance to society, but to the commonwealth. People began to wonder,and society began to inquire, who was the lovely girl in that quaint no-fsehion habit who so often ac- companied Lord Cleve. Society, according to its habit,in similar cases,speedily solved the question, and shocked itself beyond measure by the assertion that Lucy was Lord Cleve’s mistress. W hat else could she be? asked society. She was not Lord Cleve’s wife, that society knew, neither was she his sister or relative: therefore society, without further ado, wrote down Lucy a wanton, and considered Lord l Cleve’s conduct positively shocking. So- -ciety, its outraged notions of propriety notwithstanding. looked upon Lord Cleve as a much injured and interesting young man, and found excuse for his lifeâ€"a la grand Turkâ€"in the Circumstances that he l had passed so many years among the env- ages . “He’ll make as good a husband as lmost young men.” the Duchess said to the ’ Mercliioness. "If I were Eveiyiie Isliould prefer him to that young man of whom we know so very little.” And the March- loness confessed that her views coincided with those of her Grace. A mistress was a shocking thing, but young Cleve would soon become civilizcd under the influence of a handsome and polished leader of fashion. . I “H” not go so far as to say that either Lady Evelyne or Lady Gwendale went purposely out of tlieii- way to throw them- selves across the young man’s path, but they came as near that course of action as an impartial judge would allow without - actual admission of the truth of the charge. They missed no entertainment, ball, or function of any kind, where they could imagine or hope to meet Lord Cleve. But as Lord Cleve fora good many days and nights, went to none of these iheir love’s labor was lost. In the meantime, Lord Cleve had endeav- ored to learn from Lucy, why she had held no communication, and wished to hold no communication, w‘ih her father and cousin. Her reply was simple enough. She said that she hated her cousin, that she had had adeadly quarrel with her father, and vowed never to live with them again. In answer to more pressirg inquiries, she turned up her big blue eyes at him and looked into his eyes with such a under pleading, ihat he had not the courage to persist. “ Don’t ask more,” she begged, and he who “as so deeply indebted to her was happy to look into the face that bore such a heavenly stamp of trui h. and, by one deep gaze, to silence the promptings of curiosity. On the other hand, the Maclanes, George and David, seemed to take no trouble to re- open intercourse with Lucy. When the girl had first disappeared from the hut in the mountains, they explained Lucy’s absence by the statement that she had gone off with a young man, Heaven only knew whither, and that Dick Asnland had gone away with the pair. Lucy’s many ad- mirers came to the conclusion that the girl whom they had thought unconquerable had, after all, turned out a. woman like the rest of the prairie wenches, and had fallen a prey to the insinuating speeches of a hand- some young stranger. From that moment, the interest in her Welfare disappeared. Dave made an imposing pretence of a brok~ . en heart, but George brazenly asserted that ihis daughter, havingleft the parental roof lwithout his authority, might lie on the bed ishc had made for herself, for all he cared. I The result of this line of conduct was that i out little inquiry was made after the fate of lthe fugitives, and even such as the Mac- . lanes pretended to make, was naturally and ‘ intentionally abortive. In those days, the jvast plains swallowed human units as the .great sea might, and unless by chance. or ‘I by dint of persevering and strained inquiry, i the whereabouts of Lucy and Herbert could not have been easily discovered. As to 1 Dick Ashland people had always been ‘wanderiug why he had been living in that .out-cftlie- way place, and his habits had l always been solitary and retiring. It excited no surprise, therefore, that he should have left the neighborhood, his assassins having taken care so to strip his l cabin as to give every semblance of truth ;to their story. The Machines had been wise enough in their generation to allow asutficient stretch l of timeâ€"micro than it year,in factâ€"to elapse before proclaiming their discovery to the i world. In the meantime they had taken , all the necessary steps to secure to themâ€" ‘ selves the safe and undisputed possession . of the land that thus teamed with wealth. i The red-handed Fortune smiled, and, by her guilty leer, Lucy was, and remained forgotten. Nearly three Weeks had passed since Lord Cleve's arrival in London, and he had not, i for a second time,set eyes on Lady Evelyne Wynfei‘ or the Muclanes. He had taken ‘ part in none of society’s cerciiiciiials, until, . one afternoon, in company with MLQuent- . lieliii, lie strolled into the Royal Horticul- ‘ tural Seeiety’s grounds at South Kenning- =ton, where a charity fete was being held. l'I’hc lovely gardens were ablaze with tho ’choicest bloom and green, and filled by a fashionable throng. Delicate, high-born ,ladies liawked trinkets wllll trifles, while gotliers had, for the house, transformed l themselves into stall tenders and barmaids. l Lord Cleve and Mr. Quentlieliii simmered Yup and down the broad walks, stopping l here and there to purchase or to chat, for, although the j oung earl knew few persons, his companion has some measure of acquain- tance w.th ll‘iOnl. Quite a buzz of cxcite- ineiit followed their footsteps,as everybody ivuiilrd to have a look at the young iiolvieiiiiui, whose roiniiiiric career, and, perhaps, also his lmchelor condition, made him so wry interesting. Eye glasses were raised, and opera glasses were pointed with but slight ceremony, and Herbert,to escape if possible, from the well-bred rudeness which dogged him, walked leisurely with his companion toward a more secluded part of the grounds. He thus managed to free himself from the starers who mobbed him, and was about to express to his companion his satisfaction at the result.when he heard himself addressed by name. “ Lord Cleve, won’t you buy something from me?” He turned and found that the speaker was no less a person than Lady Evelyne Wynter. “Do buy something, Lord Cleve," the lady chatted on, exhibiting a basket with a heterogeneous profusion of oddities and uselessnesses. “It is for a charity, you knowâ€"a hospitalâ€"most deserving." With that the young lady dipped into her assortment of wares,and produced a hand- some embroidered cigar case. “Only five pounds, Lord Cleve. and it’s such a deserving charity. I know you won t refuse me.” Lord Cleve naturally neither could nor did refuse. He counted out the five sover- eigns, and as he did so he looked into my lady’s languidly smiling eyes. They were big,and they were blue, and although they were neither as big nor as blue as Lucy's, Lord Cleve thought them very beautiful, Lady Evelyne was not as pretty as Lucyâ€" that she could not possibly beâ€"bnt Lord Cleve thought she was as handsome a young womanâ€"next to Lucyâ€"as he had seen in his life. As he placed the coins on the young lady's extended palm, his finger tips barely touched the soft and velvety hand, and whether it were from unison of feeling or just for the fun of the thing, both Lady Evelyne and Herbert smiled. The young lady had no difficulty in ad- mitting that the young earl was ahandsome example of distinguished manhood, and harmony of sentiment between the pair was quickly so far established that they began to chat, apparently in fun, of their, as they called it,past and forgotten engage- ment. “ Lord Cleve found Lady Evelyne’s society charming, and the young lady, on her side, had forgotten all about her self-impoued duties as a vendor on behalf of charity. She thought the young man much improved by his long residence abroad, and his man- ner towards her simply delightful. In the result, the conversation degenerated into a not too harmless fliration. which was kept within bounds by the opportune presence of Mr. Quenthelm. As it was, they became so interested by each other’s converse that they did not notice the approach of Lady Gwandale, who, accompanied by Messrs. leorge and David Maclane, stopped for some seconds in front of the little group without either of the three being aware of her presence. Lady Gwendale acted as a cautious general ;she neither appeared to approve nor to rebuke ; she did not even evince astonishment. She was neverthe- less, just a trifle afraid that a word might escape from her daughter's lips which could by misconstrued by Mr. Maclane,and therefore ended the slight temporary em- barrassment by saying : “My dear, Mr. Maclane has been looking for you all over the gardens.” Then seeing that the young earl rose and bowed, she held outlier hand. “Lord Cleve,” she said, in her blandest tones, “you must allow me to introduce myself, forI am aware that you most likely have forgotten me. I am Lady Gwendale, and your mother was one of my earliest and dearest friends." The young man,taken aback by her lady- sliip’s sudden apparition, and even more by the presence of the two Americans, whose cold gaze seemed to penetrate him like something uncanny or inexplicably loath- someâ€"he knew not whyâ€"stammered a few incoherent words. The moment afterward hechided himself for his seemingly unreason- able dislike to the Maclanes. “Now that you know me,’ continued Lady Gwendale, in her brightest mood, “you must allow me to introduce to you my future son-in-law, Mr. David \llaclane.” At these words Lord Cleve discovered a new, and to him reasonable, excuse for dis- liking the young Westerner. He was, shortly to marry Lady Evelyne Wynter, and, strange as it may seem, the young earl suddenly considered this a personal injury. David Maclane, in return, looked at the young Englishman as if he could have poi- soned him. ‘ “I have an idea,” said Lord Cleve to Mr. Quenthelm, as they were walking back, “quiteaconfused idea, but still an idea, that I have met these men before. I wish Lucy were not so reticent on the subject. The pity is that the more I try to think the less my brain will lend itself to the work, and I generally break down hope- lessly in any attempt of the kind." “Why don’t you go and see Sir William Cuthbertson 2" suggested Mr. Quenthelm. “He is the great specialist in cases of this sort, and some of the cures he has made are nothing short of marvellous.” “I don’t think there is much chance for me,” Herbert answered. "My injuries, I am afraid, are permanent." "It cannot possibly do harm to try,” the lawyer replied. “It is surely worth while.” “I will take your adVice." exclaimed Herbert, With a hot and sudden deter- mination in his eyes. “I’ll go and call upon Sir William Cuth hertson to-morrowi" \TO BE CONTINUED.) Blllfiflll HUNT ON i sin. THE PATHAN’S STEWARD DIES OF THE BRUTE’S BITE. It Broke on! of In Cage and Rain up lo lhe Malnlopmiislâ€"All Ilse Crew Mmlcl‘nr l “'1”: Bamboo Poles and Finally It Lenped Into the Sch. A cargo of tea and a log book full of sea tales arrived at New York the other day on the British steamship Pathan, a long, narrow, rakish steel freighter from Japan- ese, Chinese, and East Indian ports. The oddest of the tales relates chiefly to a nameless baboon from an Indian jungle,and to Lam Tuck, a Chinaman from Hong Kong, who was chief steward of the Pathan. The Pathan arrived at Singapore on Feb. 6, and Lam Tuck and several of the eight lascars in the crew went ashore. The lascars bought five monkeys intending to sell them in America. Lain I‘uck saw a big baboon 3} feet high, with tusks like a wild boar, ata native dealer’s shop, and asked how muchee. He got it for about $5. He knew that it would be worth at least $50 in New York. On the ship the baboon was kept in a heavy wooden cage about four feet square, With stout bars in front. It was no hand- somer than most baboons, and was subject to moods which indicated a lack of mental balanceâ€"even a suspicion of insanity. When the Pathan was about in the mid- dle of the Red Sea,on Feb. 26,her command- er,Capt. W. H. Wright, who is an amateur photographer, decided to group the five monkeys and take their pictures. The sky was cloudless and the sea so smooth that there was barely a ripple. It was a fine day for a snap shot. The ship was ap- proaching the Daedalus lighthouse. The lascars brought up their monkeys and told them to look pleasant. Lam Tuck noticed the proceedings and suggested that his baboon could look pleasanter than all the monkeys put together, and that it also should be included in the picture. Capt. Wright recalled the baboon’s two-fathom smile and decided to immortalize it. Lam Tuck started down after the baboon, taking with him a rope to tie around its neck to restrain any desire it might manifest to attack anybody. Lam Tuck thought that the baboon was on friendly terms wilh him, as be bad cared for it and fed it regularly. He shoved his right hand between the bars of the baboon’s cage and grasped the beast by the neck. Then he opened the door, intending to take the baboon out, and, after securing it by the rope, to bring it on deck. The baboon shook off the Chinaman’s grip and sunk its sharp, tusk-like canines into Lam Tuck’s right wrist. The wrist was pierced through and through. The Chinaman yelled and several lascars ran to the cage, and by prodding the baboon with the end of long bamboo sticks, used as dunnage aboard the ship, made it let go. The baboon vented its rage in shrill cries and a wild tugging at the bars of the cage. The lascars beat it with bamboos until it became submissive. Tuck’s wound and bandaged it. Meanwhile the group of monkeys, all docile,had began transferred to the skipper's dry plate. Lam Tuck went about his work and the Fathan steamed on serenely through the pulseless sea. At noon a lascar was startled from his siesta by a noise on deck. He saw the big baboon, looking bigger in the open air than he appeared in the cage, running on all fours toward the starboard main rigging. The lascar uttered a cry of alarm, and instantly nearly every man aboard ship was prepared for a baboon hunt. The baboon leaped on the ratlines, stopped a moment, perhaps to size up the strength of the opposing force, and then clambered nearly to the masthead swifter than the nimblest sailor man that ever lived. The skipper went to his cabin and got his re- volver. He came out on the upper deck and blazed away at the baboon, which climbed to the topmast and dodged around it. Five more times the skipper’s revolver barked, and each time the baboon shivered and made itself as compact as possible. The skipper's ammunition was exhausted. Since the baboon’s attack on the China- man all hands had agreed that it wasn’t a desirable shipmate. The skipper said that it must be killed or captured, and that he preferred to have it killed. Odicers and men, swinging their bamboo sticks, swarm- ed into the port and starboard shrouds of the mainmast. The baboon, when the firing ceased, came down several feet and clung to the starboard shrouds. Slowly his pursurcrs climbed the ratlines. Present- ly two bamboo sticks whacked the ba- boon’s flanks. The wild creature grabbed at the sticks and screamed. It then leaped ten feet athwart ship to the port shrouds. There the bamboo wieldere lashed it again and it made a desperate jump for the back- stay,a steelstrand running down to the port rail, just shaft the mainmast. It caught the backstay, and men in the port and starboard shrouds tried to dislodge it. There was a swishing of bamboo sticks and a shriek from the baboon. It slid down the backstay to the port rail, ran along the rail a few feet, jumped down on the main deck, and made the poop in a few phenomenal leaps. Fifteen men, with bamboo sticks poised like spears, charged after it. It ducked under the wheel house. Hearing the rush of feet it ran out and faced its pursuers for a moment. They approached more cautiously. The baboon saw that is was doomed to either death or captivity. Before the near- est of its pursuers could touch it with his bamboo stick it turned and leaped into the sea. All hands ran to the taflrail and look- ed over. They saw the baboon struggling in the water. They watched it a few minutes,and then returned to their duties. The Daedalus lighthouse was two miles away. Maybe the baboon reached it and caused the lightkeeper to swear ofl“. Any- how, there has been no news from Daedalus since the Pathan passed, excopt that the light is still burning. Capt. 'inight went to the baboon’s cage and found out how it had escaped. It had gnaWed apart a plank twelvo inches wide and an inch thick at the back of its cage, and had then ripped the board out. A Glimpse of Balaclava. At Balaclava there is a marble obelisk which marks the entrance to the Valley of Death, down which the Six Hundred rode to their doom, or rather to their immortalâ€" ity. The open space of shelving plain narrows between the majestic cliffs, which close around it and bound the harbor. 'I‘he hopelessness of a cavalry charge in such a position is apparent, exposed to a raking fire of shot and shell on either side from the guns planted on the heights. The sacrifice which won the admiration of the world seems ignored by the Russians of to-day, and the presence of a huge merry- go-round in the valley consecrated by the life-blood of English heroes gives us ashook of indignant surprise. Balaclava is now the favorite playground of the rising generation, and the Valley of Death resounds with the laughter of a holiday- keeping crowd. A bill is before the New York Legisla- latiire to compel the street car companies to charge only half fare to passengers who fail to obtain seats. Chief Oflicer C. H. Butler cauterized Lam. _‘ The Pathan arrived at Port Said after passing through the Suez Canal on March 1. Lam Tuck’s wrist had swollen and be. come discolored. A doctor came aboard at Port Said and said that he thought the injury merely needed poulticing. It was poulticed, but it became worse when the Pathan put into Gibraltar f0? refuge from wild weather on March E1: Lam Tuck had taken to his bunk with blood poisoning. A doctor was sent for, and he came aboard and had Lam Tuck brought up on deck. The Chinaman died while the lascars were carrying him up. He was taken ashore and buried near six of his countrymen, all of whom had died on ship-hoard while bound to or from their native land. A BUFFALO SAMSON. Forn- Hebrew Clerks Put tip a Job to Test Ills Strength and Lost $28. A despatch from Bulfalo suys : The examining surgeons of the Sixty-fifth Regi- ment, National Guard, found a Samson the other day. Among the candidates examin- ed was Bert Bartram, a cartman, about 32 years old. When he had stripped for the examination he sat on a chair and asked the physicians to stand on his ankles. One stood on each ankle, and then, appar- ently without any great efiort, Bartram raised his legs until they stood like parallel bars, and held the doctors in the air for two minutes. Four Hebrew clerks in the wholesale clothing house of Warner Broth- ers & Co. found this Samson a week earlier. They knew that he prided himself on his strength, and put up a job on him. He gets the wages of two men on account of his great strength. A few days ago Bartram was delivering some heavy cases at the clothing house and lifted the cases on and afl‘ the dray without the aid of skids. One of the clerks pointed to a big case on the floor and asked Bartram if he could lift it. They told him it held 700 pounds of cloth. He ofiered to bet that he could, and agreed to return as soon n he had delivered the other packages on the wagon and do the trick for them. While he was gone the young men emptied the case, drove four long nails through the bottom of it into the floor, and went into the cellar and clinched the nails. Then they returned the goods to the box and waited for Bartram. He appeared at tbs appointed time, strode over to the case and took hold of it. It didn't budge. “ Sure there’s only 700 pounds in it 2” said he. The four young men assured him that that was all it contained, and then oflered to bet him that he could not lift it. Bartram put up 520 against 320 raised by the four clerks. Then he removed his coat, fastened his big hands on the case, gave I powerful tug and the case rose in the air with a crackling of timber and a cloud of dust. Six square feet of the floor came up With the box. Bartram pocketed the money and after reproving the young men for the atttempted fraud went away. The carpenter bill of $8 was paid by the’ crest- fallen clerks. SHEEP INDUSTRY 01" PATAGONIA. Immense Flocks owned by European Companiesâ€"Ravages of Animals. Down in Punta Arenas, a port on Terra- del Fuego Island, there is much enthusiasm over the sheep industry. A manager for a French company, owning something over 100,000 sheep, with the necessary horses, said that they made 3 francs (about 60 cents) on every head clear of all expenses from the sale of wool alone. The increase of the lambs averaged about 90 per cent. of the ewes, and this was anadditional profit. When told that estimates made up the coast called for 100 per cent. increase, he replied that that could be had only when labor was abundant enough to care for the lambs when first dropped. The lamb at birth does not know anythingâ€"not even its own mother. Such helpless beings need great care, though after a week or so they require no more attention. The long- wooled varieties of sheep are in favor there. A common ewe will weigh from 160 to 180 pounds in the fall. The lowest average of wool sheared is said to be 7 pounds a sheep. A printed table of statistics which the manager carried showed that the aver- age yield in 1889 in all the Argentine was 4.4 pounds. His range was Considered poorer than the average, but it had sus- tained two sheep per hectare (two and a half acres). The one disease to which Patagonia sheep are liable is the scab. This is kept under by dipping them in various kinds of baths, the expense for bath running from $80 to $90 gold per year for every 1,000 sheep. The next greatest expense is for the killing of panthers. Acommon night’s work of a panther is the killing of sheep to the value of 3100 gold. Every shepherd, therefore, carries a carbine, and must be supplied with all the cartridges he wants. These rifles sell for less money in Punta Arena'a stores than in our gun shops, but the annual expense for rifles and cartridges on some ranches runs up to hundreds or dollars. Foxes and a species of wild cat make havoc with the young lambs, and so these must be exterminated, too. What with hunting down vermin and looking after the sheep to keep them on the range and to dip them for the scab, the French manager has to employ a man for every 2,500 sheep in his flock. On the whole, his flocks, numbering a little over 100,000 sheep, cost the company 200,000 francs ($40,000) per year, while the sale of the last clip yielded 500,000 francs (about $100,000), and the price was not high. In his judgment it would be a very poor busi- ness man who, after starting with a good outfit and 1,000 ewes on the Patagonia range, did not attain an income of $20,000 gold 9. year at the end of ten years. A Lightning Phonograher. Business Man -â€"Can you write short- hand ‘2 Applicantâ€"Yes, sir. How many words a minute? I never counted ’em ; but the other day. when my wife found in my overcoat pocket 8. letter which she gave me to mail last fall, I took dowu every word sbo uttered as fan] as she said them. You’ll do.