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Mow waL though? V obstinater Sahe shut her eager hips, seeing that her husband would not bear to be urg- ed. He went hurriedly out of the room. and Macha stood silently by the fire. with a strange gray cloud over-shad- owing her face. The third summer had gone by, and now again the winter was pessinf. and she .seemed farther than ever rom attaining the great desire of her heart. A minute she stood where he had left her, with closed eyes, climb- ing in spirit the rough ascent to the mountain cabin. In imagination she threw herself at her mother’s feet, beg- ed her forgiveness, assured her of her ove, pleaded her inability to keep her word. Then with a. long sigh she un- closed her eyes. u-nbent her brows, and patientl went about her occupations. She too advanta. e of her husband's germission to sen a presentâ€"a cloak or the grandmother, and flannel for the mother and little sisters. There was much trouble about addressing the parâ€" cel so that it might reach that distant and isolated cabin; out the trouble was taken. and that the parcel went safely home was known by the arrival of an acknowledgment of the giftâ€"a gro~ tesgiue scrawl in pen and ink. scarcely legi le, but expressive of love and gra- titude. Sir Humphrey read the curious document with a curling lip, and threw it in the fire. Allow his wife to go back among these savages? No; it was not likely he could be so foolish. One such folly in a lifetime was surely en~ augb. The must learn to forget Maâ€" oha, and 1V acha. must learn to forget them. J-ullu u; Vvuuu "Dear," said 1332336 to him one day. "when are we going back to see my mother 3” « She was standing ’before him in a flowing rdbe of white stuff, with her honeyâ€"coloured hair dressed Iby a. French maid wiflh 'ewels in her ears, and flowers on her roast, looking such a picture of beauty and refinement that even the liar intonation that still clung to Eer speech could not declare ’her other than a lady. Macha possessed in a high degree the power of adapting herself to the ways of those around her. Her husband recognized this power In her, amd relied upon it to carry him through the consequences of his own rash and extraordinary conduct. He was grateful to this Wife for the per- sistent efforts he saw her make, knowâ€" ing she was influenced solely by love for him for she took but little interest in the pleasures that surrounded her. He did not know how far she was influenc- ed by another motive also, the desire to earn a. reward, in the fulfilment of his promise to bring- her back to her native hills. Sir Humphrey Gilibert dressed his wife in a. lady’s garb, and surrounded her With all the appointments that were suited to her new station. The first 5811' to his happiness was given by his perception (that, beautiful as was Ma.- cha in her sinks and laoes and trinkets, musica’l as was her speech, grateful as were her movements, there was yet something wanting in her to make her a bride that could be presented, with- out risk of criticism to his friends. The enchanting mountain girl. with her pic‘ “"8qu beauty and wi‘hd charming Ways was no more. The lovely Lady Gilbert was a. little too unconventional. with her soft_brog'ue, her vivid and fig- urative language. her quick natural gestures, her Little slips in grammar. and artless habitual utterance of the truth. But Sir Humphrey was very pa- tient with her, and set to work to pol- ish his precious gem in the rough. A loné time paged over, and the bus- band felt no desire to revisit the high- lands of (30171987113th _ t .. r ,‘_ When will you let me see my moth- er " Sir Humphrey was troubled. He was quite resolved never to Let Macha re- turn to her people. and he had hoped that the desire to go to them would have faded away from her before now. There was something in her face which he could not understand, but which made him feel that he must deal very gent_ly Awith her: ‘ _ “It' is out of the question at pre- sent love," he said; “ but you shall send be; any_ presgmt ymr plgase." With all this good luck there was something wanting to their happiness. Macha did not fall into raptures with the splenddurs of her home, nor with the amusements of society. nor with the flatteries and triumphs that fell to her share. She only half lived in luxury by her husband's side; the oth- er half of her Lived on the mountain among the p‘rivations to which she was born. Under her rich sables she shud- dered at the cold on her mother's limbs; and by her own glowing fireside she kept counting the sods of turf that might have been saved in the rainy season to keep warmth in the aged grandmoth- er's withered frame. She heard the lit- tle sisters saying, ” What is Macha do- ing? Macha. is so happy she has forgot- ten us!” The heart within her was getting every day more chill, because as yet her husband’s promise did not seem likely to be fulfilled. At last she had summoned courage and asked him the questioan So long ago did it seem that folly that had married him to a peasant~wife. that all recollection of the details of the circumstances had almost passed away from his mind. He was a. man of quick overpowering impulses, and memories that faded with ease. Things that were full of pathetic interest to him yesterday were very likely to he follies to him toâ€"day. Yet he wasfaith- ful in his affection for Masha; and the sight of her struggling with her diffiâ€" culties, labouring to make herself all that he could wish, and succeeding by the inspiration of something like en- ius, touched and delighted the best eel- ings of his nature. He was the more disposed to be satisfied with the re- sults of his marriage because his wife's low extraction was a secret from his associates. It was believed that she was the daughter of an noble but imâ€" poverished familyâ€"that she had been negleacted in her early years, and edu- cated by her husband. . A pretty r0- mance had been constructed. how. or by whom, Sir Humphrey did not know. His wife's gentle grace was the real foundation for it; and at all events he had not the courage to contradict the tale. MACHA. as she to be taught to do it, Why was she so stupidly, so ,y blind to the exigencies of Dismay, anger, terror. all passed through and over him. He first swore and condemned her; then remember- ed her sweet face and her former patâ€" ience, and almost forgave her. Uneas~ ily he resolved to let her go and have her way. He had given her money yes- terday, commanding her to spend it on her own amusement; for the present she could not want; and this reckless visit would be sure to tame her. Very soon she would be glad to return to him on an}r terms. Thus torn by distracting thoughts Sir Humphrey went back alone to his English home. Pride, obstin- acy, and the conviction that his wife was wrong and required punishment and humiliation, prevented his follow- lngr her to Ireland. The sun was setting behind whitened peaks when Macha. came wearily up the last ascent of the hills. There were the the case? Full of intelligence on every other subject, she could not he brought to see that between Sir Humphrey's wife and the wild tribe of her people there could not and must not be any further personal intercourse. Haw slow she was in taking up his meaning. when he tried to bear it upon her, without gutting the fact before her in uncom- ortable words! With her beautiful ser- ious face her outward and inward re- finement, in her soft white draperies. and delicate laces, how could she con- template a visit to that abode of pov- erty which he remembered only too well? Fancy the wild. brown, little sis- ters hugging the elegant Lady Gilbert; the meagre weather-beaten mother weeping over her, the mummyâ€"like grandmother mumbling Irish into her ears! There was a grotesqu ness in the picture, as presented to Sir umphrey's imagination, that brought the indignant colour to his face. Macha's obbuseness was ag ravating. From time to time she wo (1 say to him imploringly, " When will you allow me to go ’3" and when answered satisfac- torily, would turn away with that dull look of patience that was becoming habâ€" itual to her countenance. She lived in a. state of painful suspense, of silent ex- pectation, which showed she had not taken in the idea that he was resolved never to grant her request. The memory of his promise was still so fresh in her thoughts. Her stupidity was the blindâ€" ne_s_s of perfect faith. \ "W Macha stood like one stunned, slowly taking in what his angry words conveyâ€" ed. As she had believed his words be- fore, so she believed them now. They fell upon her like blows, and when he had turned harshly away and left her under sentence of his displeasure. one only desire and determination posses- sed herâ€"to get away out of this cruel world of plenty, and bring food and comfort to her tarnishing mother. She did not weigh the consequences of de- fying her husband; her agony and long- ing blotted out even the memory of his existence. How she made her way to Connaught who shall tell? As the lion- ess finds her stolen young, so did Ma- ?cha scent the path to her native hills. Accustomed to rely upon her husband for everything, to follow his instruc- tions and mark out nothing for herself, she must have made almost supernatur- al exertions to accomplish her end. But accomplish it she did. \Vhen her hus- band returned that night. half angry and half relenting, revolving plans for reconciliation, taking counsel with him- self as to how he ought to deal with her, knowing very well. that he meant to send a largess to those creatures on the mountain who were such a thorn in his sideâ€"when he came back to his home that night, Macha was gone. Dismay, anger, terror. all passed through and over him. He first swore Every day her yearning grew deeper and the look of it settled in her eyes. Her husband resolutely appeared to mis- understand her, refused to meet her pleading glance, persuaded himself that she was ill, out of. temper. anything rather than homesick and lonely _by his side. If his conscience smote him with the remembrance of an eager proâ€" mise voluntarily made. he told himself that foolish vows might never to be kept. The strangest part of it all to him was, that she did not 1' roach him with having broken his wor . But she did not think he had broken itâ€"only that he was wearin long about begin- ning to fulfill it. A bitter season set in. and Sir Hum- phrey. looking at his wife‘s thin cheek. and the darkening trouble about her eyes, bethought him of taking her to some gay city. to a genial climate and the novelty of strange faces and places. He had watched her walking to and fro amo his comfortable tenantry. in and out 0 their warm wholesome dwellings. and he knew what brought the spasm upon her lips and the quiver of pain across her eyes. She was thinking of that dreary hovel among the wilds of the Conna'ught hills. \Vhere the sun always shines, he thought, she would forget how cold and hunger sting. So the Christmas guests were put off, and Sir Humphrey and Lady Gilbert went to winter at Florence. Uncomplainingly Macha did her hus- band’s bidding. She said to herself, "\Vhen we come back. early in the spring. he will take me or let me In the mild air of Italy she did not realise so keenly the well-remembered rigours of the Connaught winter. Her imagination was caught by the beauties that surrounded her. and for a little time Sir Humphrey thought his tri- umph was at hand, It was but an ac- cident that turned the scale against him, and made shipwreck of his plans and of Macha’s life. Accident or fate led Lady Gilbert, who rarely looked at anythi printed, to glance into the colâ€" umns 0 an English newspaper; and a. paragraph met her eye in which cer- tain rough statements were made, re- garding a famine of food and fuel in certain parts of hungry and melancholy Connaught. Instantly her long-sufferâ€" ing atience gave way, and all the lat- ent ire of her nature burst forth. She flew to her husband with burning eyes, and laid her finger on the cruel lines, Sir Humphrey was in an irritable hum- our. Cut off from his customary coun- try pursuits. idling in a foreign city. he had fallen into play, and had lost heavily the night before this eventful morning. The sight of his wife's fev- erish emotion made him angry; 'her passionate demand to_be sent with sug- rfienfi com- to her people chaffed and bewil- dered him. Machal for whose good he had inconvenienced himself so serious- ly, left his home in winter. lowered him- self to sit at the table with gamblers! â€"-Macha. to rise and turn on him with those flaming eyes! He met her with a. flat denial. and uttered some bitter re- proaches. uphraiding her with her im- prudenoe and persistent folly. Having begun to give a. little vent to his dis- pleasure, he ended by saying more than he had ever meant to say. He refused to believe in the newspaper’s tale of distress, and forbade her to mention her people again. bare seamed levels, the weird rocks. the scant green patches, the dark mys- teriousâ€"looking Lake. "0. God, I have returned!" broke from her. “There is my mother's cabin." The fierce ache that had gnawed her heart suddenly left ilt, and a. glow of saltis- faetwn wen-t tingling through her yams. Strange, instinctive, unreason- 1ng love of home and kindred, that can forbid a human being to ampt ease and pleasure in exchange for the suf- fering of want! Maxim, who had been delivered over to abundance andlux- ury. cast them from her like broken letters, "and rushed forward into the embraces of her old companion and foster-motherâ€"Pover‘ty. This was the spot Where she had danced and sung. wept and prayed; where she had been hungry and cold and full of care, and had been necessary to the existence of those she loved. Here was where she had watched, half credulous, for the fairies among the rocks; and. wholly believing. beheld, with delight, 'the procession of glorified beings in the heayens. This was the home of her passionate devdtion; the strait hard bed from which she could endure rto meld up her mortal brealth. ' "Mother there is something beautiâ€" ful coming that looks like Machal" cried one of the little sisters. "Macha must be dead, and coming from heaven to see us 1" And they an stood solemnly in the doorway Ito walth the a roach of the apparition. Bult when ha’s living li spoke to them. and her out- stretchegs hands touched them, then arose such cries g3 the rocks gaveback. Only the eagles. and whatever super- naturaJI beings had been lurking near natural beings had been lurking near, heard the damour of wild cries that goes in the isolated cabin at sight of r. The advent of mercy was not an hour too soon to bring the colour of life back to pinched faces, and to put light on the tireless hearth. A long battle with hunger and cold must soon have dolefully ernded had not aucour arrived. Rains had drenched the turf. and the sun had not shone to dry it; and the potatoes had been washed out of the earth. Masha. had known how it would be, though her husband re;- fused to believe in the tale. Who will take oil from the flimty stone. or honey out of the rock? The very birds will not live in this barren world. Why should man cling to it with such an unarmunmble love? When Macha, having ministered to their bodily‘ wantfi, and comforted their hearts with her love, lay down that night on the old familiar bed of straw, she had time to remember the husband rom before whose angry face she had ed. "He will never love me more," thought she; "he will never come to seek me again." She tried to comfort herself with the thought that that she was still the Masha of old, and would work for her people; but the teams poured from her eyes, and her paisgxinnwte heart was lno‘l’; sathfied ye‘t‘. Next day she Went about her old work in her old dress, and tried to for- get that she had ever been away from her: home. Painfully she saw the mis- ery and squalor of it. and planned such little improvements as might lie with,- izn her reach, But soft living had spoiled Mocha. for privation and toil. Hunger afflicted her, and her limbs were wrung with cold; she was come back to estate of things which she was no longer fit to strive. Wandering round the dark waters she could not now feel an interest in "him who lives down in the lake ;" "living mam" whom she had displeased and mrsaken, whom she had loved and made unhappy. ab- sorbed all the dreams of her imagina- tiaon. Even the blessed spirits, the golden cloud-shapes moving across the sky. had beoome cold abstractions to her whose eyes were always looking vajgfly for one absent human form: Her experience of better things, her naturall good taste. and the money she had brought with her enabled her to make the projected improvements in her home; yet. when they were made, she had no pleasure in beholding them. They had cost her too dear to have the power to give her any delight. In Satisfying the infidelity of her nature on one side, she had bwt inflicteda. mor- tal wound upon it on the other. The blue pinched look of hunger had gone from her mother's face; the stars were no longer visible through the poof; yet, lying there at night. and thinking about it all, Macha felt that the pinch of cold and hunger had setâ€" tled on her own heart, and that the stars of love and possible happiness were forever shut out from her life. A hundred times a day she madedn imagination, impassioned acts of love and sorrow and appeals for pardon at her husband's knees. In fancy she uttered explanations to him, that in reaLuty would have been impossible to her tongue. And she was too shy and too‘vtimid to attenpt to write to hip}; my an ave made the I uf those she 10 d fidelity rent few weeks, after all, ft him and returned but many a. heart has far shorter time. The cirgumâ€" 1ppmess 'ed ; but hei‘ as his ears, ""1 too sitrong t a. stranger 1 your own!” Two Favorite Tricks of the Late Professor Ilcrrmnnn. The death of Herrmann. the famous magician, has called out many stories of the pranks he was accustomed to play in the course of his travels, about the world. One of these has to do with a visit of his to a. bank, where he. ao- companied by two friends, had an in- terview with the cashier. ” I see you are a. magician, too," said Herrmann, jocularly. "You’re making money. That’s something I can do my- self at all times.” The talk had hardly begun before the visitor drew a. cigar out of the cashier’s Vandyke heard. The cigar he quickly multiplied into enough to go around. The cashier had been. busy clipping new bank-notes tram printed sheets issued by the Treasury. He asked to be allowed to examine the sheet of bank notes, and while looking at it he rattled off one of his pet stories, and got the cashier and his friend and the stranger all interestâ€" ed. In the midst of the story some heavy object fell from a. desk and ap- parently startled the magician, who. in his fright, tore the sheet of notes in half. ’ llrltlwh (‘olmnhln Spa amen Rained by IIH‘ I'm-yin: of These lBh-ds on Hume. a. spemes not comm Prairie chickens once fl Detroit, thousands of within the city limits the water to Canada. ’1 drowned while tryinlg t Superior, but others g( and now inhabit the Ed ritories north of the big they go? The only en ezrally received is that ket hunting drove the; A similar migration took place in Michigan had been once hunted a suddenly they all dis: they left a. trail, and due west. The [lock w urke west. The le wide an eys appea gious num neen only 2 to the we: MAGIC AT THE BANK. WARFARE 0N OWLS. {Una end. m. of w11\d turkeys 1. These birds i. great deal and a trick his. He his left with a. of the 1112: It Is Called a Brlgnde, and Pei-Imps Tn“ Is a, Good Enough Name for It. At first glance it seems a. remub ably low average that a uity so vast and compact should have but 122 seriâ€" ous fires in a. year; but in addition to the fact that a. "serious" fire in London usually means a. total destruc- tion of the property (exterior walls sometimes excepted), there is to be com sidemed the appalling fact that 106 lives were lost in these serious fires. COED- mander Wells says that statistics tes- tify to the rapid increase of fatalities as the result of fires, and the inference is plain that betteu‘ methods of dealing with the great enemy are imperative. Within the county limits of London with the great enemy acre imperative. Within the county limits of London (some 75,442 statute aqres) there is a population of, in round numbers,‘4,500,- 000. To fire-guard the immense terri- tory there is a brigade of 842 firemen. 25 men under instruction, 17 pilots, and 76 ooachmen. Them are 58 land fixe ooachmem. There are 58 land fire en- gine stations, 5 river stations, 3 sub- stations, 15 street stations, 57 land steam fire engines, 9 steam fire on- gines on barges, 77 manual engines, 115 hose carts, 37 miles of hose, 8 steam tugs, l3 barges, 246 fire escapes. and 580 0611 posts. The avers; number 01 men available for: duty 3 652 by day and 388 by night._ "Elnfhév lfiajority pf London houses' there 18 but one stalrway. and that a narrow one. There is no emergency exip o'r esgape, and the ghought 0 r0. vr'ls1on to Insure safety: In theleiveg no! a. time seems never to'have entered the mind of a builder. That the "fire e9¢ capes” furnished at the eleventh houaz by the firemen are to a large extent mockeries is proved b' the pro Option of 106 fatalities to 12' "seu‘ious’ fires. That the vocation of firemen is not on: of great hazard here is shown b th fact of there having been but 10 ac- cidents of all kinds to firemen last yea. , and only two fatalities. An economi-a conservatism is largely contributory t the fire risks of London, where-a cheat-g mineral oil is chiefly used in 1i hting‘. Lamps are in common use W‘ e a. brighter illumination than candles af- ford is desired. Tlhere is a: pretence of gas in most of the better sort of houses, but mineral oil lamps predomi- nate even there, and in the great ma- jority of‘ lodging houses gas is used onl ,,,,, -__J 3:”: h _ m A A m .r'-" "u 7 u on the drawmg room and dining room floors. Electric lights are coming into service very slowly. But candles and lamps are still the main opponents of darkness in London houses, as through- out the rest of England. Their utility in support of the fire brigade, or in supplying it with reason for existence. is considerable wth weighed against other causes of fires. Out of the total‘ 3,616 fires, candles may claim the credd it for 206 and mineral oil lamps 399 among ascertained causes, and proba-I bly a fair proportion of the 880 “unâ€" known” causes. CORSETS. The corset is found on the mummified bodies of Egyptians who lived in the times of Rameses. The pictures on the walls leave one in doubt as to wlhether the peculiar ster of drawing the 11‘]:- man figure means corsets or not. Re- cords of them are found in the times of Caesar. In France we learn that in the time of Louis VI. bandages de- signedto change the shape of the fig- ure were worn, one reaching from the but tothe waist line, the other overlap- ping this, reached below the hips. At the close of the fourteenth century a corset to be worn outside of the dress. laced in front. but not brought together so as to display embroidery beneathwas much in vogue, and it would seem that the lace bodice of the peasant may be asurvival of this; then came a. wooden one made in two similar parts Mined at the back by many strips of linen. The object of this was to give a narrowing appearance from the shoulders to the hips, and among the portraits of the time we can see how the wearers looked. ’ \Vhat martyrs they were! But they probably consoled themselves with the saying, "11 faut soul'rie, pom the' belle." This insirument of torture was fol-4 lowed _by an iron. cagefi male of kxd- Ebvéred étriips of iroxf, but these were suppressed by the edict of Henry IV., and than the womep_took»tq putting- evasive strips of steel into their gowns. with: an effect occasionally more groâ€"l tesque than graceful. The next ad- vance was in the adaptation of whale- bone, and soon so good a corset was pro- duced by French tailors that both men and women began to adopt them as] comfortable additions to the wardrobe: and so skillfully were they made that! Louis .XV. set aside 500,000 florins for whaleâ€"fishing and the production of: whalefbone. A . Modern times have seen the anatomy of the figure so carefully studied that? tho corset has become an element of comfort, and. many good physicians beâ€"- lieve, of health. Now. dressâ€"reformers may banish the corset, but it will be a; long time, for no matter how difficult the shape to be accommodated, human: ingenuiLy g10001npli§hes it, and the‘pqrf comfort. and lieve. of hea' may banish 1 long time, (c the shape to ingenuiLy am \VORS-T PAID OF MEN Deacon Capen is dead.‘ His distinction is that, living all of 87 years on a wooded and farm. near Sharon, Muss.. and f no pursuit but farming, and e« ing, he accumulated zi fortune 000. Of this sum he made ov sew aswe ness and {he Maésac and $30,000 sionary Soc LONDON’S FIRE DEPARTMENT» 1f Lat vs 3.11 nu 1t to know it grace. t Iarmlng, a ulated =1 forw sum he mat 21' $88,000 in sum isa. marvel of light 11 His title to all _.his life H followxng economiz- : of $190,- ne Mis- ati ular ul re- itie I‘D rocky some [)11