~ “\v: ..,....‘. 1.. , AS GOOD_A. "Well. lhe's a. friend of mine, and Tray 3. friend of hisâ€"or if we are not, whit-CI are we? '01 send, if I’ve not lll‘lfIl his friend, who has. I should like to know? Didn't he come here without a sound shoe to his voot? Didn't I keep him hereâ€"help him to a living? Didn't I thele him to money, or whatever he wanted? I stuck out for no termsâ€"I said "Name your own price.†I'd have shared my last. crust with that young follow at one time, I liked him so well. And now he's defied me! But 11â€" him, I'll have a tussle with him nowâ€"at fair buying and selling, mindâ€"at fair buy- ing and selling! And if I can’t over- bid such a stripting as he, then I'm not worth a. varden. We'll show that we know our business as wdil as one here and there." His friends of Corporation did not. specialiy respond Hendllilrd was less popular now than he has been when. nearly two years before, tthey had vot- ed. him to the chief magistracy on ac- count of his amazing energy. While they had coflectively profited by this quality of the corn-factor's, they had been made to W'Ul't'xtl individuality on more than one occasion. So he went out. of [the haï¬tl and down the street alone. Reaching home he seemed to recollect. ' something with a sour satisfaction. He cal-led Elizabeth-Jane. Seeing how he 'iboked when she entered she appeared alarmed. . "Nothing to find fault with,’ he said observing her concern. "Only 1 want. to caution you, my dear. ’Ilh-at man Farfraeâ€"it is about him. I've seen him talking to you two or three times â€"J.lie danced with 'ee at the rejoiciugs. and came home with 'ee. Now, now. no bllaane to you. But just htarken: Have you made .‘him any footish prom- ise? Gone the least bit beyond sniff and Snaff at all?" "No. I [have promised him nothing." "Good. Afl's well that ends well. I particularly wish you not to see him again.†"Very Well, sir." 'You promise?" She hesitated for a moment and then said, "Yes, if you much wish it.†"I do. He’s an enemy to our house." When she had gone he sat down, and wrote in heavy hand to b‘arfrae thus: "Sirâ€"I make request that hence- forth you and my stepdaughter be as strangers to each other. She on her part has promised to welcome no more addresses from you; and I trust there- fore, you Will not attempt to force tlhem upon her.. H. Henohard." One would almost have supposed Hen- ohard to have had pol-icy to see that no better modus vivendi could be arriv- ed at with Farler than by encourag- ing (him to become his son-in-law. But suoh» a scheme for buying over a rival had nothing to recommend it to the Mayor's headstrong faculties. With all domestic finesse of that kind he was hopelessly at variance. Loving a man or hating him, his diplomacy was as wrong-headed as a buiialo‘s; and his Wife had not Ventured to suggest the course which she, for many reasons, would have welcomed gladly. Meanwhile, Donald Eartrae had open- ed the gates of commerce on his own account at a spot on Dummerford Hill -â€"as far as possibite from Hunt-‘hard’s stores, and with every intention of keeping (fear of his former friend and employer's customers. There was, it seemed to U c younger man, room for bouh. of them and to spare. ’Ihe town was small, but the corn and may-trade was proportionately large, and with his native sagacity he saw honest oppor- tunity for a share of it. So determmed was he to do nothing which shout'id seem tlike trade-antagonism to the Mayor that he refused nis iirst custom-:1â€"a large farmer of good reputeâ€"because Henchard and this man had dealt toge- ohcr within the preceding three months. “He was once my friend," said h‘ar- frae, "and it's not for me to take busâ€" iness from tilth. I am sorry to disap- point you, but I cannot hurt the trade of a man who’s been so kind to me.†In spite of this praiscworthy course the Scotchman's trade increased. Wheâ€" ther it were that his northern energy was anovermastering force among (the easy-gomg VVcSoex wortlhies, or who- Uher it was sheer butt-k. the fact reâ€" mained that whatever he touched he prosgiercd in. Like Jacob in Padanâ€" aram, he would no sooner humbly lim- it himself to the rimgstrakted-and-spot- ted exceptions of trade, than the ring- straked-andâ€"spotted would multiply and prevail. But most probably luck had little to do with it. Character is hate, said Novaltis, and Farfrae's character was just the reverse of Henchard's, who might not inaptilty be described as Faust has been _ describedâ€"as a vehement, glloomy being, who had quitted the ways of. vulgar man without light to guide him on a better way. _Farfrae dully re-t‘cived the request to discontinue attentions to Eiizabet'h- Jane. His acts of that kind had been so slight that the request was almost superfluous†Yet he had felt a con- stderablle interest. in her, and after some cqgltalioul he decided that it would be as well to enact no Romeo part just thenâ€"for the young girl's own sake no less than his own.. Thus the incipient attachment. was slifli’lfld down. ’A time came when, avoid collision With his former friend as he might, Farfrae was compelled. in sheer self- defencc, to dllose with Henchttrd in inorâ€" tal. commerctal combat. He could no longer parry the fierce attacks of the. latter‘by simple avoidance. As soon as their war of prict-s began everybody was interested, and some few guessed the end. It was, in some degree, Nurâ€" thcrn insight matched against Southâ€" ern doggednessâ€"t‘hc dirk against the t-udgeiâ€"and Hencthard‘s Weapon was Ollt‘ which, if it did not deal ruin at. th first. or Second stroke, left. hint after- wards wall-nright. at his antagonist 's mercy. , Almost every Saturday they flared each other nmiti.~ amid the crowd of I ready. and even ï¬nXlUllS, tn stiy s ooLn. farmers which throng‘ed about the marketâ€"plow in The “'99le course nl t'inir business. Donald was always a few friendly words: but the, Mayor anlII‘l- ably (ruled slormfully past him, like one who had endured tIltl lost on his account. and t‘uuld in no N-uw forâ€" gb’e the wrong; nor did l‘lll‘lrtlt' s mnlr bed manner of pt‘l'pit‘Xlly a: tilt :ipliâ€{l.'<t’. him. The large farmers, coi'nâ€"u‘ivrâ€" ‘chanls, millers. leIt‘iltlnv‘J‘I‘S, and others had each an official stall in the cornâ€" markel. room, with their name paint- etl thereon; and when to the faiiit-Iiar series of "Ileneliurtl," "live-rrlene,†"Dnrttm." and so on. was added one inscribed “lt‘arfrtit',†in staring new letters, Hemuhartl “as Stung into bilâ€" terncss; bike I<l~llerophtm, he wandered awnv from the crowd, cankemd in soti'l. [from that. day Dammit] lt‘arfrae's name was Seldom mt-rritlinncil in IIontuliard‘s house. If at ltri-akfast or dinner Eliz- abeth-Jane's mnl‘bwr inadvvrtentfsy al- ll'nded to her favorites movements, the girl would implore .hAr by :i look 10 be silent: and her husband would say, “Whatâ€"are you. too, my mnemy?" CHAPTER XVIII. Tlhere came a shock which had 1306“- forost-etn for some time by Ellzabel-‘h. as the box-passenger foresees the M" preaching jerk from some channel) across the highway Her mother was illâ€"too unwell 10 leave list room. Henchard, who treat- ed her kindly, except in moments of ir- ritation, sent at once for the richest. busiest. doctor, whom he supposed to he the best. Bedtime came, and they burnt a light all night. In a day 01‘ two slhe rained. Elizabeth, who had been staying up. did not appear at breakfast on “he SM»- ond morning. and Hentthard sat down alone. ‘He was startltcd to see a let- ter for lhim from Jersey in a writing he knew too we'll, and had expected least to I>(‘filt)l/tf again. He took it up in his hands and ilott‘mtl at. it as a picture. a vision a vista of past enactments; and then he rend it. as an unimportant finale to conjecture. The writer said that she at length perceived ho wimpossilrle it; would be for any further communications to pro- ceed between them now that his re- marriage had taken place. That such reunion had been the only straightfor- ward course open to him she was bound to admit. "On calm reflec- tion, therefore." she went on, “I quite forgive you for landing me in such a dilemma, remembering that you con- cealed nothing before our ilLadvised ac- (Iuaintance; and that. you really did set before me in your grim way the fact of there being a certain risk in loving you. slight as it seemed to be after eighteen years of silence on your wife's part, I thus look upon the whole as a misfortune of mine, and not a fault, of yours. "So that, Michael, Imust ask you to overlook those letters with which I pestered you day after day in the heat of. my feelings. They were writ- ten whilstFI thought: your conduct to me cruel; but now I know more par- ticulars of the position you were in I see how inconSiderate my reproaches were. "Now you will, I am sure, perceive that the one condition which Will make any future happiness psosible tor me. is that the past connection between our lives be kept secret outside this isle. Speak of it I know you will not; and I can trust you not to write of it. One safeguard more remains to be menâ€" uoncdâ€"that no writings of mine, or trifling articles belonging to me, should be left in your possession through ne- gtect or forgetfulness. To this end may 1 request you to return to me any such you may have, particularly the letters written in the first abandon- ment of feeling. "I: or the handsome sum you for- Warded'to me as a plaster totho wound. I heartily thank you.†' I am now on my way to Bristol, to see my only relative. She is rich. anti 1 hope Will do something for me. Ishall return through Casterbridge and Bud- mouth, where I shall take the steam- boat. Can you meet me with the letters and other trifles? I shall be in the coach that. chahges horses at the Stag Hotel at half-past five \Vednesday even- mg; I shall be wearing a Paisley shawl With a red centre, and thus may eas- ll be found. I should prefer this plan 0 receivmgIthem to having them sent. I remain still, yours ever. "Lucetta." Henchard breathed heavily, “Poor thingâ€"better you had not known me! Upon my heart and soul if ever I should be left in a. position to carry out that marriage wiLh thee, I ought to do 1tâ€"1_0utglit to do it, indeedl" The contingency that. he had in his mind. was. of course, the death of Mrs. Henchard. As requested, he scaled up Lucetta's letters, and put the parwl aside till the day she had appointed; this plan of re- tui:n:ng them by hand being apparently a. little .ruse of the young.r lady's for exchanging a word or twa with him on past. times. He would have preferred not to see. her; but, deeming that there could be no great. harm in acquiescing thus .far, he went at. dusk and stood opposde the coach-office. The evening was chilly, and the coach was late. Henchard crossed over to it. while the horses was being changed; but there was no .liucet ta inside or out. Concluding that: Something had hapâ€" pened to modify her arrangements, he gave the matter up and went home, not: Without a sense of relief. Meanwhile Mrs. chchard was Weak- bentng Vistbly. She could not go out. of doors any more. One day, after much thinking which seemed to dist ress her, she said she wanted to write Some.â€" th‘l‘ng. A desk was put upon her bed Willi pen and paper, and at her re- quest she was left alone. She remained Writing for a short time, folded her paâ€" per carefully, culled Elizabeth-Jane to bring a. taper and wax. and then, still refusmg assistance. sealed up thi- sliect, directed it, and locked it in her desk. She had directed it in these Words:â€" "Mr. Michael Henchard. Not to be opened till Elizalu-thâ€"Jane's day." The latter sat. up with her mntht-i' to the utmost of her strength night tifâ€" lt‘r night... To learn to take the uniâ€" vtqwn seriously there is no quicker way lllllll to watchâ€"lo l‘c a“wtikv1‘." as ‘ltt' countryâ€"permit) call it. Between thr fir-tilts :it which the last tusspnt went y unit the. first sparrow slitnk himself the silence in Cisterbritlgnâ€" barring " l“ll'e sound of the \\'(th‘ltlllllll~\\':l< f in Elizabeth's car only by the I tit-u in the bod-room ticking franâ€" wedding- t in a. room, and blinkingr at timlly against the clock on the stairs; ticking harder and harder till it seemed to clung like. a gong; and all this it bile the subtleâ€"smiled girl asking herâ€" self why she was lmrn, why sitting V the candle: Why things around lilr‘I‘ hurl taken the shape, they ware in preference to t‘Vt‘I‘y ntlwr possible, shape. \\'h_v they start-d at hot so helplessly, as if waiting.r for the tout-h ol some wand that should re'etisn them from terrestrial cmiâ€" sti ' 'r: what. that chairs called mmâ€" soil-usnc-ss. which spun in her at this mumr‘nt like a top. landed in, and be- gau in. Her eyes fell together; she was awake, yet she was us'mep. A Word from bur ntmbt-r i'nuxml her. Without preface, and as the continua- tion of a smne art-u iy progressing in her mind, Mrs. Hem-hard said, "You remember the note sent to you and Mr. Farfraeâ€"asking you to meet. some one in Dtunmerford Bartonâ€"and that you thought. it was a trick to make fon's of you?" “Yes.†“It was not to make fools of youâ€"- it was none to bring you togqther. 'Twas I did it." "Why?" said Elizabeth, with a start. "lâ€"wanted you to marry Mr. Far- frac." "Oh. mother!" Elizabethâ€"Jane bent down her head so much that. she. looked quite into her own lap. But, as her mot her did not, go on, she said, "\Vhat reason ?" “Well, I had a. reason. "T‘will out. one. day. I wish it. could have lmen in my time! But thereâ€"nothing is as you wish it. Hem-hard hates him]: “Perhaps they'll be friends again," murmured the girl. "I don't knowâ€"I don’t know." After this her mother was silent, and dozed; and she spoke. on the subject no more, Some little time. later on. Farfrao, was passing IIt‘nchard's house on a Sunday morning. when he ol'served that. tho blinds were all down. He rang the bell so softly that it nnlv sounded a single full note and a small one; and then he was informed that Mrs. Henchard was deadâ€"just deadâ€"that very hour. Al. the town-pump there. were. gather- ed a few old inhabitants. who came there for water whenever they had, as at. present. spare time to fetch it, be- cause it. was purer from that original fount. than from their own wells. Mrs. Cuxsom. who had teen standing there for an indefinite time. with her pitâ€" Cher. was describing the. incidents of Mrs. Henchard‘s death, as she had learnt them from the nurse. "And she was as white as marble- stone,†said Mrs. Cuxsom. "And like- wise. such a thoughtful woman. tonâ€" ah, poor soulâ€"so thoughtful that a' minded ovary little thing that wanted ending. "Yes," says she, “when I'm gone ,and my last: brealh‘s blowerl,look in the top drawer o' the chest. in tho back room by the window. and you'll find all my coffin clothes: :1 piece of flannel. that’s to put under me, and the little piece is to put. under my head; and my new stockings for my feetâ€"they are folded alongside, and all my other things. ‘And there's four ounce pennies, the heaviest I could find, a-tied up in bits of linen. for weights â€"â€"two for my right. eye and two for my left.†She said. "And when you've used 'em, and my eyes don't. open no more, bury the pennies, good souls, and don’t ye go spending 'em for I shouldn't. like it. And open the windows as soon as I am carried out. and make it. as cheerful as you can for my Elizabeth- Jane.†’ “Ah, poor heart !" "\Vell. and Martha did it, and buried the ounce pennies in the garden. But Lf ye'll believe words, that man Chrisâ€" t“Pher Coney. went and dug ’em up. anthspenl ’em at the King 0' Prussia. “Faith,†_he said, "why should death deprive life of fourpence'f Death’s not of such good report: that we should respect ’en to that extent,†says he." " ’Twas_ a cannibal deerll" deprecat- ed†her listeners. Gad. then, I won’t quite hae it," said Solomon Longways. "I say it to- daY- and 'tis a Sunday morning, and I'wouldn’t speak wrongfully for a Silver Sixpence at such a. time. Idon't. see harm in it. To respect the (lead is sound doxology; and I wouldn't. 86'“ .skellintonsâ€"leastwise respectable skplllntonsâ€"to be varnished for 'natoâ€" mics. encept I were out 0‘ work. But money is scarce, and throats get. dry. Why should death deprive life of four- ptenco? I say there was no treason in ."VVell. poor soul; she's helpless to hinder that or anything now." answerâ€" Pd Mother Cuxsom. “And all her shrnlng keys will lte took from her. and bfél‘ cupboards opened: and things a' didn't wish seen, anybody will see; and her little wishes and ways will be as nothing I" (To Be Continued.) RUSSIA WANTS DOCTORS. .__ I There Is Only One Dot-tor In Every Six ’l‘lmusnml Inhabitants There. There is already some complaint in this country of many of the professions being overcrowded although this counâ€" try is comparatively young. The stipâ€" ply of doctors is frequently said to he overstocked, but. this may be doubted when one considers the great \Vest with its small proportion of medical men to the population. However, if such is the case, there is hope for any struggling young physician who may have looked in vain for a profitable practice in this vicinity. Russia wants doctors and wants them badly. The pertwutage of_nied-ical men to the popuâ€" lation there is very sniallâ€"al out one to every GUUO inhabitants. In one pro» Vince there are only lhl't‘B medical men to a population of 155,0U0. It is prolaâ€" bly due. todliis calm»- the death rate in Russia is the highest in Europe. IIt're, them is a chance for young duc- tnrs who fail to find a field for their skill. Russians will ‘le very glad to have their services and to pay well for them. ‘l'llfu‘ GRIEXS'l‘ES’ ‘ ZOO. The Zoological Gardens of the South African Republic are the largest in the world. They consist of about 20 farms in the Iicbntnbn region, guarded by it whole tribe of Ktiffti's. \Vllhiu this 21 rca thorn.- ts. perhaps, cvvry species of wild ‘I‘uiuiul to b:- fuuul in South Africa. '1 his ‘I’t‘glull is-gtitt'-l~l by it special It‘- solutton of the Yolksm‘t'l. TH Eâ€" noun. 4 t ‘VW »\ s; . \ 'r/\ ,\AA \.u \ \s. x\\\~w, . PREPARING TIIE FEAST. It is said that the very sound of these words causes our Intuit hs to water, but it will be very necessary for the[ housewife to he systematic in her pre- parations for this (-v-nt if we. Would have the dinner a perfect sllt‘t‘ess. It. is not our intention L0 state hwrt- the proper methods of Serving an elaborate dinner in the most :tpproVi'tl style. but. to offer suggestions to help the enthusi- astic young housekeeper to enjoy to the utmost the delightful responsibility of preparing and presiding over the din- ner which is to be served on this day. This is the day when the best that is in us and about us is brought; forward and made the most of. The true Thanksgiving spirit. should prevado the. home atmosphere, the family, so far as possible, in all its branches should be brought. together, the treasured old blue china and antique teaspoons set forth, and the various precious little heirlooms made to serve their different purposes. As much as possible of the dinner should be prepared before Thanksgiv- img day. The mince meat should be prepared the week before it is wanted, as it becomes more thoroughly season- ed after standing several days, and it should be made into pies the day beâ€" fore they are used and the pies kept, up a cold place until it is time to re- heat, them before serving. \Vhile mak- itng the mince pies make enough crust for the pumpkin, and all other pies and plays this prcpzu‘ed crust in the cellar, and it will be ready to roll out quick- ly the next morning, when every mom- ent will count. Have the suet for the pudding chop- ped the day before and the hard sauce made for it and put. in a. cool place. The cranberry satire and that for the pies can also be prepared and ready for use beforehand. The nuts may be cracked the night before. and last, but. by no means least, the turkey should be cleaned and stuffed the day before. This will leave for Thanksgiving morning, first, the pies to be baked, but as the crustis all ready to be rolled out and the cranberries and stewed pumpkin prepared this task can be readily disposed of. Then, when the turkey is in the oven, the pudding and scalloped oysters may be prepared for the steamer and oven respectively. Then the potatoes may be boiled and mashed for. the potato croquettes, if they are desired, and the other vegetables pre- pared early, so that they may be ready when it, is time to cook them. A little forethought and method int preparing such a dinner wild usually save hours of work. AN ELA BORATE APRON. An apron suitable for dressy occasions may be made very elaborate. Fancy tends toward a. thick, creamy satin which would be quite an irresistible ma- terial for the apron, and its richness would make a plain style preferable to any fussy arrangement. Of satin about twenty-two inches wide you will want threeâ€"quarters of a yard for the skirt part, and another three-quarters to cut some bands, a little V-shaped pocket and a small. plain bodice, which, by the way. is merely a square press with the full- ness drawn into the waist, on the upper part of the band, whilst the gathers from the skirt are stroked in beneath the lower edge of the said waist-band. For trimming. have a band an inch wide, outlining the three sides of the bib, and three others two inches in depth going right around the skirt of the apron. while a very short one across the top of the pocket should be of the same width as those on the bodice. Now then for a display of sti- tchery. Iron on these hands a floral border, of which you can buy a. trans- fer impression by the yard or packet for a few cents, and this you must work in delicate \washing silks, carrying out the natural shades of the blossoms you select. Trails of Virginia creeper would make a very suitable pattern, the leaves in hues of crimson. green, yel- low and russet brown. with dark vein- ing , or pale pink dog roses, with tiny sprigs of blue and pink forget-me-nots meandering in and out, would make another pleasant scheme of color. As the value and beauty of this apron depend on the fineness of the work on the borders, do not adopt. the outline stitch, but rather fill up your flowers and leaves thoroughly. using much dis- cretion and taste in the blending of your shades; if, however. you deem this too troublesome a task, youpan mod- ify your labor by selecting instead of the floral design. aconventional patâ€" tern which might be worked in coral stitch, not outline. as that would be too thin, but the coral stitch on sprays, scrolls and leaves works up very rapid- ly and effectively. Carry out the design in tones of soft and dark green. CAPABLE 0R INCAPABLE. Every child is certainly born with an aptitude for somethingâ€"a talent, some would call it. and early in life, if circuiiisitiuces are at all favorable. will in some way manifest it. \Vhen a par- ent notices such a talent it his duty to educate his child in it. There is nothing harder than for a. man to know that he is misplucing his energies. To have longings for another art or trade and to feel that in that only could success be attained is not con- ducch to either his welfare or happiâ€" ness. It is only where there is love for the profession chosen as well as an ambition to become proficient. in it that SUCJT’SS will attend; and without success there is little sutisl'nctiOii. Too many parean permit their chil- dren to grow up incapable of taking care of. themselves. 0t such poor incaâ€" p1tblcs there are thousands, and whose fault is it ? In other countries tin-trades are not looked down upon as they ill'i‘. here. and l'lllltll‘t‘ll, no inuttwr how wealthy their parents “my lw, :ll‘t‘ trained for some trade. lll fortune is :tpt‘ to come to any and everyone and ill-"ll the knowledge 01 some “it"‘lls' of support “ill not mine amiss. it is not always that a boy i l l 33. 3:3!) ml for the trade in which his father has, become suct‘cssful; still, whole families of buys. go blindly into iha .\.:Lllltt. simply trotu :i foolish careless- ness or {foul the desire to earn money curly in life. Unless necessity r01“- pt‘lï¬' this should never anpi-u if one’s future is counted for aught. CII l LDREN'S GOSSIP. Must children. unless constantly ro- pti'iriinnrlwl for so doing, have a habit of carrying home all bits of gossip they may hear. Unfortunately mriny moth- ers encourage It by permitting their children to do so, or in listening to them. If the little ones were told that mother does not mre to hear what Mrs. So-tind-So said disagreeable about 1dr. Jones and Mrs, Blank and that gossip was rude and vulgarï¬: they would not be so ready to carry information from house to house. Many a child who would otherwise be sweet is a perfect nuisance to its. mother's friends and neighbors. It listens to conversation which is not, meant for its ears and whzn it finds that it has ready listen- ers in its parents’ fragments of gossip. frequently augntr-nted._alasl are repeat- ed as soon as home is reached. A child's training reflects upon the parents, and whether good or bad is for them to attend. Children who can- not be trusted are most disagreeable to have about. The little one is no longer a child when he listens at every door and evinces by his eager curitsity that. he must find out much that is not his business. Parents, if they must say disagreeable things about their . neighbors, should not do so in the pres- ence of little ones if they care to have them well bred. and should discourage glrésisip on their part as much as pos- st 9. THE THANKSGIVING TABLE. The table should be spread with snowy papery, the glass and silver pol- ished in the Last degree of cleanliness and brilliancy, and every detail perfect before any edible are served. If there are girls or boys in the house, get them to cut. branches of red and gold leaves, if such a thing still exists. Chrysan- themums are usually beautiful and in- expensive at this 'time of year, and a low bowl of them in yellow in the cen- ter of the table is very effective. And. everything must be hot, piping hot,and. served in a dignified mannerâ€"not bang- ed on in the fashion which certain . country maids think adds to the friend- ly feeling of a family dinner. \VAY TO BRUSH THE HAIR. “The proper way to brush the hair,“ Esays a well-known hairdresser, "is not to brush it lengthwise, but to hold the ends of the hair, if it is long enough, and simply scrub the scalp with. the brush. This process promotes the cir- culation of the blood1 and excites the oil. glands to action. After the hair has beer. thoroughly brushed in this way, it should be then finished. With a. few Egorous strokes lengthwtse of the ,1 ir." DON'T ATTEND BARGAIN SALES. The royal family never shops. The Princess of Wales, for instance, and her daughters make a selection of mater- ials and styles from samples and water- color drawings. From these pictures and patterns the royal order is given, while the fitting is done on dummies expressly made to conform to the royal figures. POWER OF HABIT. An Interesting Experiment on Three Dog! â€"“'l.m.l llnbit Really 15. By way of experiment a certain inâ€" vestigator recently placed in separate and specially prepared kennels a numh ber of dogs which were just old en- ough to care for themselves. For each! dog he chase a. single occu- pation to which its entire attention was directed as often as possible. Upon one he placed the task of standing erect up- on its hind legs when required to do so, another he required to bark at comâ€" mand. another to run around its ken- nel. and so on. No one save their in- structor had anything to do with the dogs, who spent most of the time, when not. receiving their “lesson,†in sleep. At the end of a. given number of months the dogs wene killed and their brains subjected to rigid examination. In the dog which had been trained to bark, that portion of the brain which controls the organs of speech had en- larged more than the rest; in the. dogs trained to run, the portion controlling the muscles of the legs predominated; in every case that portion of the brain was found to be most developed thlrough the agency of which the special act re- ‘quired of the dog had been perform:- ed. If. for no other reason. the above ex- periment is interesting because it helps us to see 'tvhat habit. really is. how it: is formed, and better still. how it may Ibo broken or at. least held in check. l Mechanical repetition enabled the dogs to become profit-tent in some one act. Continually working in a certain direction and dwelling upon a givenlino .of thought will develop the brain in a correspondingly uneven manner, until little by little a strong and almost in- vincible habit is formed, which casts its predolnmating:r influence for good or evil over all our acts and thoughts. Of course it is possible by a supreme effort of the will to overcome the tenâ€" dency to certain llt'ilulls‘ tind lines of thought. For :mllll'. pt‘lsulls’ this may be the best way to put {Illut‘V-ll habit in rout. But what if lilt‘ Will is weak and the habit tlw‘ply inti‘vnt-hedf If we will i':-tii-t-ntlwr 1b» oxpcrnn ml. with the dogs, we shztll pt-i't'ntve that there is illltllllt‘!‘ “my in ld'lllt‘ll we can “Mk, ,1 “by which lll't‘lll‘N‘x‘ butter 1‘0â€" sitlts. If the brain t‘un in. tlrvs-ltiw-il 3n nut- (.lll‘t‘cllttll, it mu m in spoilt-1‘. So that it is pissilxlv, by t’t'IllillLlC‘ll and diligent application in numb t‘. and as tfzti‘ as [lt‘xxllllt‘ tiltlitisite Illl)"llU\l), to numeral-1 the influence :tlrtuivly 0:111le lishvd :u the brain by ‘J. given undesir- =_; :zzl-tpt- lublt' lgt‘vlt.