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She looked at Lady Varley's clear-cut features, calm again. now that the mo- mentary suspense, was at an end. and told herself that perhaps she wronged her. She was too pure, too proud a woman to sink beneath dishonor un- deserved. There were those who drag- ed down beneath the wave of affliction, but there were also those who rose out of it with senses dulled indeed. and wounds all gaping, but with faces serâ€" ene and passionless though the cruel rocks had cut sore. These gave no sign of the agony within. These have their reward. The stormy trel skimminJ the tempestuous wave nows such wild throes of passion fierce and strong as is unknown to the gentler bird who sewers amidst the fragrant inland branches to hide it from the coming storm. How sad it all was for herâ€"her child dyin . her husband, faithlessl Constan- tia c inched her hands. as she thought of Donna's gay triumphant laughâ€"as she pictured her making a. light jest out of the knowledge of Varley's sub- mission to her power. his treacherv to his wife. Could such things be and the world still go on in all its round of careless mirth, its swift pleasure that scarce gave time for thought or jus; tice? Surely the day of reckoning would comeLBut in the meantime must Yo- lande sufferâ€"must she sink beneath her troubles, with no hand held out to help her? clasped her hands. Her own grievance was forgotten in this supreme grief. Here was Lady Varley's allâ€"a. little morsel, hardly worth the counting in the great roll- call of humanity, yet to her of more value than the whole world itself. Tears Welled to Constantia's eyes as she lay back listlessly in her chair, whilst her friend talked eagerly in soft; murmurs to the nurse. She sought eagerl to soothe her. and by degrees Lady ’arley grew com- aratively calm. The arrival at the gall door, however, tended more to calm her nerves than even Constantia’s tenâ€" der endeavors. She sprung from the carriage, and hurried past the servants and up to the nursery, with only a sign to Constantia to follow her. She had apparently forgotten to drop the girl at The Cottage, and Constantia had been too alarmed about her to mention it. Besides, would it; not be selfish to leave her in her present mood? Connie was sufficiently read in human nature to understand that there was something beneath her anxiety for her child,some- thing inferior to that sacred care, but yet strong enough to disturb and harâ€" ass her. After all, there was nothing in the nursery to cause fresh grief. The baby was no worse. It could hardly be that, poor little thing. unless it lay within its shroud; and» then. no doubt, it would _V_. -, _. ..v_.-‘ be betterl It lay, apparently asleep, in the calm stupor that had composed its life during the greater part of the past week. That it was slowly dying, that days, nay hours alone divided it from the moment when its soul should quit the earth, was plainâ€"40 every one save the mother, who would not, who dared not believe it. She hung over it now with such a assion of love and long- in‘; on her ace as made Constantia‘s heart contract with fear. She dropped into a_c_hai.r_in the background, and An awful fear had seized hold on her. She was trembling violently. She half rose in the carriage as though it was impossible, to her, in her state of im- patience to sit any longer still, but'Con- stantia placed her arms round her, and drew her back very gently into her seat. It was a shock to her to see Lady Varley, who was always so studiously cold and calm, thus given over to des- pair, and half wild With nervous dread. " \Vhy should you give way like this?" she said. -"\Vhy should you let a. fear so va. ue disturb you? Baby was asâ€" as wel as usual ,when you left her. " \Vhy should you give way like t she said. " \Vhy should you let a so vague disturb you? Baby was as wel as usual ,when you left W'hal; could occur in three hours? besides, would they not have sent word 2” " She is no cousin of mine." cried Con- stantia. vehemently, " I disown her. She is nothing to me. Nothing!” “Yes. yes? Is it so between you? 'Yet I should not have spoken. Has she been cruel to you, Connieâ€"to a girl like you? \Vhatl Is this only Hill- side? Why. we should be at Araglin by this time. Oh, What hours can lie in thirty minutes! Connie! Connie! If anything should have happened." Constantia did as she was desired, and then, a little unnerved by Lady Var- ley's manner. waited in silence for what she next might say. But she said noth- ing. She sought and found the girl's hand again and pressed it with! a, con- vulsive earnestness, but no words es- caped her. " You are unhappynuneasy," return- ed Constantia at last. "Uneasy! \Vhat a wordl" returned she, with terrible though repressed agi- tation. " My child, my darling, how could I have left her, even for a mo- ment! And all this horrible night, it has seemed like a nightmare. Yes, I have been justly punished. But I did not leave her willingly. Connie, you will believe that. It was forced upon me. I could hardly have refused to enter that woman's house, and yetâ€" Oh. for- give me, dear! I forgot she was your cousin." "How slow Hunt is driving 1" she cried. feverishly. “Shall we ever be at home? Speak to him, Constantia." Meanwhile Constantia had gone home with Lady Varley. At first the girl's mind was 'so distraught with recollec- tions of Donna’s treachery. and Feathâ€" erston's falseness, that she could bard- ly think of anything else, and had not even wondered at the fact of Lady Var- ley’s abrupt departure. But after awhile she became sensible of the ex- treme quiet of her companion, whose face she could not see in the brougham. She put out her hand at last and touch- ed hers, to find that it was icy cold,and that the fingers were clinched. Her touch woke Yolande from her fit of dumb misery. and with a sharp sigh she roused herself. LORD KILLEEN’S REVENGE. CHAPTER XXVIII her. And you hear what he shouh told you that doctors phets," he said; “you ear to their croakings fret as you do." "True." she said; ‘ thing to fret over any great." 1 “ I had no idea I should see you here," he said, less awkwardly than he thought. " I fancied you in the nurs- ery; at least, your women told me you were there. How is she ?" He alluded to his child. “Just the same way, I think." Her eyes were on the ground, and her tone was carefully composed. It was imposâ€" sible, therefore, for him to know the anguish that was consuming her. "I dare say it will be nothing,” he said cheerfully. He had not seen the child for a week. and so knew nothing about it. His careless tone grated on her. His own child! \Vas he dead to all thingsâ€"save one? She controlled herself, however, and stood waiting to hear what he should say. “I often told you that doctors were false pro- phets," he said; “you should not give ear. to their croakingsâ€"you should not " X011 1 said presl intently, said presently. He was regarding her intently, and she felt it. “ Yes; I was tired,” she said. " For one so uniformly truthfulâ€"one who so prides herself upon her yea be- ing a yeaâ€"that is scarcely honest, is it ?” asked he. laughing, yet with an only partially concealed sneer. “Say. rather. you did not; care for your com- pang... avoid her if possible. -She 566 i163 ‘1‘1 of having; noticed this; and, indeed. t e relations between them of late had been so strained that it scarcely trou- bled her. ' Th Varl t "it was very exceilent company. as 1t appeared to me. Almost every one wggpew or liked was there." "That surprised you, perhaps; but, as I have often told you, Mrs. Dundas. 1n splte of certain rumors that may have reached you, is_ not so altogether ob- jectionab e as you believe." She lifted her head now, and looked full at him. Her dark eyes flashed. "\Vho told you I thought {her ob- jectionable?" she asked. “Did it ’oc- our to you that there'mjght be reason for my so thinking of her? I certainly never said so.” "Your manner toward her is barely civil. however. She is an old friend of mine, and, of course I am bound to be friqndly. As myâ€"" “\Vhy should you apologize for your â€"friendship?” interrupted she. with a, curious smile. “Psay ‘do not; §I_u{_ely +L..._.,. : It was indeed “ the time of roses," and crimson, cream, and white. they bloomed at every turn. As they nodded their sleepy heads, a delicate odor es- caped from them that was wafted hith- er and thither until the very wind grew languid with it, and in the centres of their warm bosoms yellow-winged bees hummed drowsily. As Yolande turned aside to reach the ivied gate that led to the cool shade of the orchard. she met her husband saun- tering slowly in her direction. avoid he V_ wrfln. “a. -v. ,vuu. â€"friendship?" interrupted she, with a, curious smile. “Pray do not; surely there is no necessityâ€"to your wife!" "As my wife, I was going to say," he went on quietly, and with a. dark- Lady Varley went down the stairâ€" case with a languid step, and out 1nto the sweet summer air. It was midday, and the sun was high in the heavens, and the perfume from the open flow- ers filled the passing breeze. All was clouflless blue above her head. all was green beneath her feet. The day was indeed, a golden one. so rich in sweets that; one felt overpowered by it. and thought only of some shady nook where one might sit beneath a branching elm and dream the hour away. A tremu- lous haze lay over the distant sea, and the rocks shone out white as burnished silver. All round her grew the flowâ€" ers. Glowing carnations swayed to and fro with the velvet wind. and "Eed roses opened~ passionate hearts CH APTER XXIX. He halted somewhat abruptly and then came on; but it was evident to pg'ghlat lgifls firs}; _impg.}se had been to “\Vell, yes; if 1 this anxiety is p Lady Varley. “ A cessary to keep up she is on the me awkward if I wer to look after her It was terrible how she clung to It was terrible to Constantia to_ see how she clung to a. belief in the ch1ld‘s recovery, the child who was already half way on its journey to heaven; but she persuaded her to go into the garden with a silent caress. and a hopeful word or two, all the same. , Lady Varley went down the stau- The morning dawned and deepened. and still the child lived. Apparently. }t was no worse. no better; but wasdt nq worse? Toward noon, Constanta, thh whom Lady Varley would not (gon- seyy tp part, eptreatedfingl pyeyqded In Lady Varley there was the divine strength of womanhood, that knows all, endures all, and still is strong. She turned‘ suddenly to Constantia, and met the girl's eyes bent wistfully upon her. There was genuine love in them. that she saw, and a. sorrow that she would not see. _"You are tired," she said. "Come With me. You must go to sleep at 0113:.” ' t t h ’3" sk re you gomg o s ay ere a. - ed Constantia, quickly. “Yes; I generally stay here every night. I do not sit upâ€"you must not think that," with a wan smile, " but it eases my heart.” laying her hand lightâ€" ly on her bosom, “ to be near her; and so I have had that couch over there." pointing to a distant corner; "prepar- ed for me. I do not martyr myself you see," with another sad attempt at a smile; "I can sleep if I choose,_ but I like to be near her.” A heavy 31gb es- caped her as she finished. Constantia could see that her heart was brokenâ€"- that in her secret soul. hard as she battled against lit. she had lost all hope in her little one's recovery. " Let me stay with you,” entreated she. miserably. ” Do not send me away. This arm-chair is very comfortable, and â€" Do let me stay with‘ you." _ "As you will, dearest," said _Lady Varley, gently. She said something in a, low voice to one of the women, and gresently wine and sandwiches we're rought which she pressed on Constan- tia. She touched nothing herself. and after that took no notice at all of her guest. Between her hours of slee and waking, the girl saw that Lady arley had spent her night upon her knees bestde the tiny cot, praying for what a. a gracious Lord had seen fit to deny ant to part ith her to )ur in the 9.99.; ., re was (as meaning in her tone, and inced a l'ktple. I 3ft}er early last mght." he res; if you think it wise. All by is perhaps foolish," said ey. “ And of course it is neâ€" keep up one's strength ; when the mend it; would be very f I were laid up and not able take a garden and white. they As they nodded delicate odor es- was wafted hith- in her tone, and it is a foolish matter, small or d and prevalleu alk for half an i she could not I Solomon Restored Ills Kingdom by the Be covery of a Lost Bing. I There is in the Talmud a. curious le- ‘ gend about a. ring which King‘Solomon wore, and on the possession of which the keeping of his kingdom depended. Onoe Solomon went into the bath and ‘ left his precious ring on the shelf, when ,a concubine of his. Amina. filched the ‘ring; and the fiend, Sakhar. flattered I Amina and wheedled her out of the ring, I and Sakhar took the form'of King Sol- omon and ruled in his stead. Poor Sol- . omon was put to it to regain his power. but he raised such a firstâ€"class incan- tation that Sakhar got afraid and threw ‘ the ring into the sea. anda fish swa‘n 1 lowed it, and a fisherman caught the fish and found the ring. It was restor- 1 ed to Solomon, and with it he recovered his kingdom. last driven hEr to speech. An uneasy laugh broke from Varley. "Now I guemd," he said. “that under- neath your aSSumed indifference some such lie as this was working. I don't know who put it into your head, but I suppose that little devil Constantia..You have magnified a very ordinary friend- ship into an affaire de coeur. Women who insist on living an anchorite life like yours. are bound to find some safe- ty-valve for their fancies. It is a. pity you should have chosen this one. It is a'pity,too, that you take things so ter- ribly an grand serieux." Here he smil- ed with an attempt at carelessness. though in reality he was somewhat quelled by the suddenness of her ae- cusation. "If you were a. little less in- you would be easier toâ€"â€"â€"" He hesrâ€" "Live with?" she suggested, coldly. She paused, always with her eyes fixed meovably on hLS. They alone spoke. they seemed to burn into him; but oth- erwise she was calm. although her heart yvas on fire. and her soul riven. “Them ls always a remedy," she said at last. in a tone so low as to sound like a dis- tant bell. yer so clear as to smite heav- 11y upon his ear. Just yet he was undecided as to Whether he would or would not desire a separation. and so he revolted from her suggestlon. Donna's hold over him, stong as it was. had not quite led him: to despise the world‘s opinion. "You must be mad to talk to me like this on so trivial a cause," he .was be- gmnmg, but. she interrupted hLm. "Heroics are out of place here," she said. "I know your real desire, and a word will do. Believe me. I would gladly _cast_my life adrift from yours." "Take care!" she said in a low tone. "Neglect, insult me, as you will, but do not dare to lower me Lo the standard of the woman for whom you have be- trayed me!" She had withdrawn from_ him a. step 01: two, and now stood regarding hLm w1th large, contemptuous eyes. Every line of her figure breathed of vehement mdignation. Her tall, slender form, girlish still in its outlines, was uphft- ed. to its fullest height, and was filled w1th the indignant paesion that had at last driven her to speech. convinced him that whatever were her sus icions. her knowledge was suffici- ent y imperfect to prevent her accusing him openly.. “Oh. it that is all." he said, lightly, "it was a pity you did not remain for the rest or the evening. It was about the best dance we have had here for many a day. I quite enjoyed it." To this she made no answer. A strag- gling spray of a blackberry hush near had r‘aug‘ht her ownend she now made herself busy un tenmg it. "As you justly remarked. all our best friends were there." he went on. with an assumption of gayety that sat, how- ever, rather uneasily upon him. "O'Gra- dy. amongst others. By the bye," he said, lightly, turning to her with a lively smile. "you must confess that the time you did spend there. short as it was, was not altogether dull. You and O'Grady, I could see" â€" here he laughed indulgentlyâ€"“enjoyed it â€"to- gether.” 7 Lady Varley started as if he had Struck her. and raised her eyes slow- ly to his. She was paler than before, if possible, with a, Scorn unspeakable. Was this sidelong accusation meant as a. condonement of his own offense? “735 it a. vile effort to kill the sense of shame within him by an attempt to drag her down to his lower levelâ€" to sully her, the tall. pale. pure creature who stood before himâ€"to cast filth up- on his wife? XVith a. sharp movement she pqt her 1112;?! to her throat. Her nostrils di- 334111, and only hands betrpyed ever. "I think her vulgar," she said, slow- ly, contemptuously. Varley was surprised, and too reliev- ed to be annoyed. He had failed to read between the lines, and did not guess at the sleeping volcano that lay within her bmast. He suspects her of knowing, or. guessing more than it: was expedient she should know; but her answer had convinced him that whatever were her leave her h: was to giw sinuations 0 want of refiJ cacy that I ‘ in ypu." “‘xou are sinuatioxfi of our world. There was a. want of refinement in it, a lack of deli- oacy that I should not have looked for Ln you." “You are very good." said Yolande. with a curl of her lip. ' “You credit me With fine feelings in one breath, and destroy your credit in the next. But a. truce to this pretense.” she 'crled, suddenly. lifting to his a face pale and stem. "I do not like your â€"- friend, and let that admission explain all." "But why?” demanded he. angrily. "Let that rest." ' "I will not. What fault do you find in her?" . "You are a. warm partisan." said she. Ln a low, dangerous tone. "Is it wise, then. to insist?" "I think so. As you have yourself suggested, it will be well to put an end to all fencing in this matter. In censoring her it has seemed to me. of late, that you censure me." I "You have courage." she said. “Why not? W'hat is it, I again ask, that you find fault with in her?" She threw u her head as if about to speak, her ace grew deadly white. her lips parted. Whatever qshe knew she was about then to disc105e; but something checked her. She withdrew her eyes, and by a. supreme effort beat down the emotion that was trying to conquer her. Presently she was calm 3241“, and onl the tight clasp of her hands betrpye any feeling whatso- ened brow, shown her. leave her . T6 join Eqâ€"‘ STORIES ABOUT RINGS. (To be Continued.) ‘ at hou had hoped you would have least courtesy; but to L38 as you did last night her up} _t9 (:29 not remain fbr It was about a had here for Equally absurd are the stories of poisoned keys, which, pressed into a. lock, loosed a. little needle which dart- ed into the hand and so poisoned and killed the user of the key. Rings lab- eled “poison rlngs" find a. place in many collections. Some of these rings have figures of the saints engraved on them. em. The Romans had some very good practical ideas. as shown by their key rings, Ihese rings must have been used to open caskets. The shank of the key might be set on a hinge so as to allow the wards to lie flat on the ring. These rings were not always made of gold, [or some have been found in En land which are of brass or cop- per. ossibly these keys of inferior metal belonged to the Roman slaves or tame Locusta has acquired. it is ques- tionable whether she or any other pro- fessional poisoner knew how to concen- trate her materials. The Brinvilliers woman used arsenic in fairly large quantities. There can be nothing the ancients did with vegetable poison that we do not know about toâ€"day. Though Juvenal alludes to a. poison ring, as having done for Hannibal. how Halnni- bal came to his death will never be known. If Lamoral Egmont tried to poison the Prince of Orange by means gfupqison kept in a. ring, the attempt. Juvenal alludes having done for bal came to his known. If LaJI poison the Prim of poison kept failed. Rings in the middle ages were some- times so designed as to inflict in 'ury. In Bavaria up to the beginning 0 the last century the peasants wore rings of brass, on the octagonal bezel of which stood out five steel points, half an inch high. \Vorn on the middle finger of the hand, a blow from a. but- ly List, thus armed. would have left a. lasting mark on the fame of an oppoâ€" nent. ed for £30,000 in six months. In all England the number is infinite. Suppos- ably, no woman in the United States considers herself married unless the golden circlet is passed over her finger. f we had the statistics of all marriag- es in this country in the ear. and the average weight of _the go d ring, we might present a. figure. in unds of .old, which would. startle t e statis- man. \Vhen the Duke of Hamilton married the beautiful Miss Gunning there was no ring, and the parson refused down- right to perform the ceremony. Hor- ace \Valpole tells us that there was quite a scene. “The Duke swore he would send for the Archbishop; at last they were married wilh a ring of the bed curtain at half an hour past 12 at night, at May Fair chapel." As for that, we know of a. marriafi‘e in con- federate times, when, no den rings being obtainable. a key I'ng did the businws. in European adornment, but are still worn in the east. A ring was placed on the thumb of the right hand by archers, and there was a notch in it, so that; the string of the bow might be caught in it. Early European arch- ers were in the habit of using some- thing like a guard on the first two fin- gers of the right hand, so as to save chafing from the bow string. There really is not so much differ- ence as to the adornment of fingers by modern women, when we compare the mummy hands of those of Lady Staf- ford as she appears in effigy over her tomb in Bromsgrove church, Stafford- shire. Her ladyship was laid to rest in 1450, and her very much bermgea fingers are conspicuous as indicative of worldly vanities, though the hands are How much gold is used 'in manufac- tures? There is a question the bimetal- lists are always trying to solve. Grant- "The Talmud gives no turther One wife more or less in Solon] truly made no difference. Sober-sensed modern toxicologists question whether in former periods there were any poison rings or rings capable of containmg poison in sufficient quantity to bring about. immediate death. Of course a ring of huge size might have been made in the past able to hold a fairly large quantity of pois- son. But. notwithstanding all the fame Locusta has acquired, it is ques- tionable whether she or any other pro- fessional poisoner knew how to concen- trate her materials. The Brinvilliers ed that for bracelets, \Jroochss, chains, the jewellers used. a. great deal of gold, fiber all it is the marriage ring which must consume the larger proportion of the precious metal. In England the as- say ‘officgn A143 provincial cit_y acgountg structions to bring him the fish he might catch. \Vhether who had the ring had throw into the river or not is nc Anyhow, the monk took his 1 reel and swept the river nea: priu her tent olde Just lopk at that. young woman. said a crusty old fellow to me this mornâ€" ing. She is dressed like a. supreme idxot. Why, ghe repljesem‘e the four seasons. She Ls practically bare-head- edâ€"that [3 summer; she has a. fur shoul- der capeâ€"that 13 WLpter; 'she has a. silk shu‘t waistâ€"thgxt Ls sprmg; and a sloth skirtâ€"that Ls autumn. This combination is oondpcwe to a wood- en overcoat with sxlver handlea; but then some women are tough. the queen and that a. salmon which bel of the go and and Mun And Amina? Did Solomon divorce CLOTHED THE YEAR ROUND in the a salmon gnffed it go, and 'm the ring hings of the past; LLropean adornment in the east. A 1' 1e thumb of :the swept the river near Glasgow, almon rose, and he played it Zed it and brought it to St. md 'm the stomach of that fish ring, and so ‘the honou- of u was saved, and her neck. too, 2 is the reason why there is | bearing a, ring in his mouth alongs to the armorial bearing ‘ood city of Glasgow." 3 were in the most remote adecked with rings. There is a. two hands of a mummy exhib- he British museum. The right overloaded, and on the left a. thumb ring. Thumb rings gs of the past; that is to sav. lch, pressed mto a. a needle which dart- and so poisoned and the key. Rings lab- find a. place in many of these {ingspave lomon's ta.- :h, with in- very firs} ' the knight 'n the ring at known. fly rod and The gravel should be spread evenly over the surface of the subgrade to a depth of six or eight inches, and to the required width, then rolled Wifh a. heavy roller. Rolling should be per- formed in showery weather, as it isirn- possible to consolidate dry earth on gravel. The heavier the roller the bet- ter will be the results, but if a heavy roller cannot be obtained, a light roller is much better than none. The roller. should be passed over the surface un- til the gravel or earth is so compact as not to be displaced and rutted hm the wheels of a wagon passing over it with an ordinary load. The surface HINTS 0N ROAD-MAKING. PUBLISHED BY THE ONTARIO DE- PARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE. Surface drainage is accomplished by open drains on each side of the grade, having sufficient capacity to drain, not only the road-bed, but the [land ad- joining. With open drains [and with tile drains make and maintain a. free outlet to the nearest watercourse. A drain without an outlet is useless. In constructing a good road a dry founda- tion is the matter of first importance. CROVVNING THE ROAD. The graded portion of the road should bewide enough to accommodate the traâ€" The graded portion of the road should bewide enough to accommodate the tra- vel upon it, and not greater. the slope being uniform, not heaped in the centre. The crown should be well above the overflow of storm water, and should have a. grade sufficient to shed water readily to the open ditches on eithen side. Do not round it up so as to make the grade steep and dangerous, under. the mistaken impression that better drainage will thereby be secured. Nor should it be so low as to allow water to stand upon it in depressions. Underl ordinary circumstances one inch or one inch and a half to the foot is a propelI grade; that is, a. roadbed twenty-six feet wide should be from thirteen to twenty inches higher at the centre than at the By A. ‘V. Campbell, C. E, Provincial In- structor in Road-Making, Who In. Just Issued Rullelln No l. Perfect drainage, first, of the founda- tion of the road-bed; secondly, of the road surface, are the points in road. making on which too much stress can- not be laid. The first is accomplished by under- drainage, tile drains being laid at a. depth of three or more feet below the surface on each side of the roadbed at the foot of the grade and parallel to it. Care should be taken to (it and settle the tile in the trench so that. when refiling with earth, they will not be displaced. As a rule two and a. half inch to four inch tile will be sufficient. The joints should be else and the grade a true line. Loose joints and an un- even grade allow silt to pass into the tile and remain there, destroying the when refiling wit be displaced. As inch to four inch The joints should a. true line. Loc even grade allow silt 1 tile and remain there drain. must be maintained smooth and hard, to shed water and resist wear. Every: municipality should have a roller. but whether one can be obtained or not the gravel should not be left in a. heap just as it falls from the wagon. Spread it evenly. The gravel should preferably be shzr clean and of uniform size. Pit grave usually contains too much earthy mat;- ter, and where the latter is in excess, the gravel, as a. road-making material, is usgeless. Lake gravel is >apAt‘to be rounded, water-wornm and lacking in the necessary earthy matter to make a solid and compact surface, but is gen- erally a. better road metal than pit gravel. A coating of pit gravel With a. surfacing of creek gravel is a good combination. All large stones shouldbe removed as they will work to the sur- face, and will then roll loosely or form rough protuberances. ’ REPAIRS. Gravel roads alreadv constructed will need repair. By the use or road ma.- chinery scrape the surface and cut of! the corners, which will have formed at the foot of the grade by the washing down of dusty material from the crown of the road. Loosen the surface, par- ticularly that part of the travelled por- tion and Where the road is rutted, with picks, or. if possible, with road machin- ery, then apply a. coating of gravel and roll thoroughly. It is of more import,- ance, however, to see that the drains are not obstructed in their course and that their outlets are free and open. THE PRINCE'S KINDNESS. The following story is told of a. piece of silverware now existing in the plate room at Marlborough House: One day the Prince of \Vales. on alightiug from his carriage at the door of a: house whene he was about to pay a. visit, saw a blind man and his dog vainly trying to effect a passage across the thorough- fare in the midst of a, throng of car- wiages. With characteristic good na- ture the Prince came to the rescue, and. successfully piloted the pair to the oth- er eide of the street. A short time af- terwards he received a. massive silver inkstand with the following inscrip- tion: “To the Prince of Wales. From one who saw him conduct a blind beg- lgar across the street. In memor of a kind and Christian action." either. note nor card accompanied the offering. and the name of the donor has never, been discovered. -r_~V mg tofititixe nbedle was the awertion of its owner that it had been Lu the pos- session ot his faunly more than 300 years. AN OLD NEEDLE. A curlous needle with a. polished. triangular eye large enough to carry stripes of beaten gold and for use up- on embroidery of linen was once shown to an American _woman' in Constantin- pple.‘ Tlm par_tllcqlar mterest aptach- n, LI,, , PLACING THE GRAVEL. QUALITY OF GRAVEL DRAINAGE