The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

,Thc Scaled Locket Everything being arranged, Arthurl Tremont, with a heavy heart. started for California to spend his winter In the temperate climate of the Pacific coast, while Mrs. Desmond took up her two-fold duties of nurse and mother, a task far from light with the three little ones to care for. Still there was peace and contentment in her heart, more deep than she had known for many days. It was a great deal to know there was one true soul in the world who read her heart aright; who bad faith in her as a woman, and trust- ed her as friend. Nevertheless, the strain on her constitution was heavy; the two babies to nurse was no light task, and to this was added the care of her home and the boy) of two years old. Bravely she persevered and kept up well. She made but few friends. seldom went anywhere or saw anyone, but lived alone with her children in peace and quietness as far as the world was concerned, and the insinuations of the virtuous scandalâ€"mongers and tem- lnine Judases of Briarton gradually found fewer listeners. till at last they almost forgot to talk of her, being able by clreful watch and faithful mis- interpretation of appearances to find fresh fields for their virtuous cant and hypocritical back-biting. And as their listeners tired of hear- ing more against the wellâ€"behaved Widow they naturally sought more inâ€" bgeating victims. So the winter wore away and Briar- tag was once more agog with gush- ing maidens in their pretty spring cos- tumes. Two or three times had the widow received short letters from the Doc- tor enquiring after the health and wel- tare of the children and asking if she needed any more money for their care and maintenance. Each time she had replied that his little ones were doâ€" ing well and growing finely, and that lhe was greatly attached to them. She bid added in one letter that her own little girl seemed not to be very strong and gave her more anxiety all the time. She seemed very delicate and was not nearly as strong as Nellie, and though two months the elder, any person would think hers was the youngâ€" er of the two. Shortly after this the Doctor wrote to Mrs. Desmond saying his health continued better in the western 011- late and that he had concluded to acâ€" cegt an offer of a partnership from an- ot er physician in the town where he had been staying if she could take care of the children for two or three years more. The Doctor had begun to wonder why he had received no re- ply to this, when a letter came from a friend in Briarton which rendered a surprising and painful explanation. It reed as follows: My Dear Dr. Tremont. I find upon enquiry that you are pro- bably uninformed, of what happened in this town but a short time since in oonnection with your children and 9dr devotedâ€"governessâ€"shall I sayt will try to give you. all the particuâ€" lars, but first let me assure you that your little ones are well and getting along niCely. I wish I could say the same of all. But to begin at the be- ginning: About three weeks ago there was an alarm of tire one night, and upon invostigltion it proved to be the house of Mrs. Desmond. It was about midnight; cold, blowing hard. and rainâ€" Eg; a bad night I can assure you. In almost less time than it takes to tell it she reached the street in the cold storm. and at once ran to a neigh- bor’s door with the two children. As she stepped inside, she turned to look for the young fellow whom she supposed to be following with your little boy, and to her horror discovered that he was not to be seen, having doubtless mistaken what she had said to him. Quickly laying the two helpless babes on the floor she flew back to her burn- ing house, carrying the blanket with her. It was now a mass of flames, and none dared enter the roaring furnace. She attempted to do so but the crowd held her back. By this time the fire engine had arrived and began to play on the flames. Running to where a little pool of water had formed. on the Iide of the street, she rolled her blanâ€" ket in it, and wrapping it. dripping. about her scant-clad form. she again rushed for the burning building. Again one of the men detained her. but with an agonizing cry, she implored him to release her, saying, “I promised the Doctor to protect his child as though I were its mother, and what will a mother not dare for her own 7 God help Mrs. Desmond sprang from their bed, and without time even to gather her clothes. caught up a blanket, and quickly throwing it around the two babies, rushed from the street with them in her arms, bidding the young man who had aroused her, bring the boy, at the same time nodding towards the crib where he lay. They were asleep and all unconscious of their danger till aroused by the neigh- bors. when there was barely time tor thggn to escape with their lives. me and I'll save him yet 1" and with one desperate effort she broke from his grasp, and before anyone could roa- lize her purpose she plunged into the smoking. blazing room. My God. Doc- tor! it was a sight of which I hope I never shall see the like. With the drip- ping blanket over and around her she crouched low and darted forward through the blinding smoke. The hissâ€" ing tongues of flame sprang forward upon her as a monster eager for its prey, and then darted back again as though mad at being foiled by the wet blanket; then again they leaped for- ward to strike her, and again, baffled, recoiled; while the smoke rose in a solid wall before her. “The how! The hose!" shouts the captain, “Follow her with the hose, boys! Carefully now my menycarefulâ€" 1y!” Deep and sonorous roll the tones from his speaking trumpet, and in- stantly the nozzle is swung around and the rushing jet of water crashes into the room above her head and the broken spray falls in a deluge (Continued) around her. " Carefully, my boys. care- fully! Follow her with it, but for God‘s sake be careful not to strike her!" again rolls from the trumpet, while the stream rises and falls and swings from right to left. from left to right, above and around her, but never once does the steady hand of the man at the nozzle. slip or waver, nor the stream strike her as she hurries for- ward. All stand breathless and im- movable as statues, with eyes staring as in a trance, at the slender, heroic figure, pressing steadily deeper into the seething hell of flame. Not a sound is heard save the roar of the fire, the quick throb of the engine, and the blood-freezing hiss of the angry flame as it bites and strikes in’ its mad fury at its death-enemy, the invading wa- ter. It is a thrilling and fearful war of the two elements, but gradually the flames give way and begin to retire from the conflict. And now acry of despair breaks from the pent bosoms of the breathless crowd, for she has crossed the room, and entered the doorâ€" way of the bedroom. " Poor, poor childl" murmurs one, "So brave but so fool- ish; they will die together I" “A true woman and a true heroine!" whisper half a dozen voice. «in chorus. But see â€"agaln the crowd s hushed in smoth- ered silence. and gazing spell-bound at that doorway, for there. crouching low‘ and creeping slowly and painfully hack to life and safety, folding closely to her bosom in the dripping blanket, her precious burden, for which she has Played so desperate a part, comes that same heroic figure. “'Tia a fearful battle with death, with the chances terribly against her. Slowly still, and more painfully now, she creeps on: her breath is beginning to fail, and comes only in great convulsive sobs; her face ‘ is blistered with the awful heat: Sparks and cinders are falling upon her and burning deep in countless places: the steam from the wet and heated blan- ket seems to scald as a boiling caldron; her eyes are burning hot, blood-Shot and blinded with the heat and smoke; She can see no longer; blood is beginning to ooze from between her parched lips. yet still she struggles on. Then the stream from the engine plays in a cooling Spray upon her and sustained her a little, as painfully she creeps blindly forward over the cinder-strewn and smoking floor. The giddy walls begin to rock and totter to and fro: the ceiling 53. s above her! Another moment and a l is lostâ€"hut see! she is not alone. One of the firemen is by her side. “'hen she reappmmd through the doorway and despair gave place to hope, he sprang forward. and Dlunged into the reeling ruins, to reach her now just as a falling door- oasmg strikes her on the head; with a groan she sinks forward, helpless and senseless, while a. convulsive cry of horror breaks from the surging cowd. Then she is caught up in his arms and borne forth to safety, unless indeed, she has already sacrificed her life. The boy,_at least, is safe; and as the throng realize that the fireman is bearing them .forth in his strong arms, all their intense restrained emotion breaks forth in one long deep cheer which no pen can describe in its intensity, and a murmured "Thank God!" rises from the throats of hundreds. And this noble woman is the one who has been many times mentioned with suspicion and gazed at askancel NOW. when perhaps too late, all are anxious to do her honor. I know, Doctor, that you will be truly thankful that after her heroic efforts in your behalf her life has thus far been spared, though I grieve to say it is still in danger. But after all it is sad to think that her pwn little child should not have been spared to her, but the poor little thing has died from the effects of that night's exposure to the cold and wet. The mother has had a violent fever and been in delirium ever since she came out of her swoon that night, so she knows nothing of what has happened yet, though her baby is dead and buried. Yours are doing well and are {being well cared for, so you need give yourself no uneasiness on that account. Every- thing possible will be done for the poor noble woman. I shall write again soon and. tell you how she is progress- ing. As bends the oak beneath the blast, so swayed the heart of Dr. Tremont beneath the tempest of his conflicting emotions as he read this letter, the first intimation he had received of all that had happened. Thankful joy and deepest sorrow, admiration and pity, sympathy and wonderment, all clam- oring for supremacy in his heart as he read on, one and then another alter- nately gaining precedence. Then as the thought of his little ‘ Loy lying helpless in this crib, a prey to a most horrible death but for the heroism of awoman, settled before him, his cheek paled with contemplation of it; then agreat sigh of gratitude towards the rescuer escaped his lipsâ€"his eyes mois- tened, and with bowed head he mur- mured brokenly; “God bless her noble soul, and, 0 Lord! why must she suf- fer thus as u recompense?" Ah, why! How impatiently do we all repeat that question, “Why!” Demand- ing the why and wherefore for every petty ill from Him whose infinite wis- dom is vast enough to people endless space with shining worlds as thickly as nature with daisies decks the mea- dows. Still are we loath to trust Him with one little "Why." Then the one thought filled his mind; "My darlings are safe,” and with that a great throh of joy filled his heart. We nearly all have a streak of brute selfishness about us that seems to be quite natural and. under some circum- stances, even pardonable. The Docâ€" tor‘s first thought was to write areâ€" ply to his friend. thanking him for his kindness and asking him to kindly see that nothing was wanting that money could procure for the sufferer's com- fort, to which end be enclosed abank draft for one hundred dollars. Then in the evening he wrote to the widow trusting consciousness would have returned before the letter should reach her. He wrote.â€""My dear Mrs. Desmond:â€" Ever Yours faithfully J. A. HALLON My triend Hullon has written me all; your heroic rescue of my little boy; your subsequent bitter loss of your child, and the long and painful illness to yourself. -... 3 ,11 It is with emotions I cannot attempt to describe that I turn to my desk to write you this letter. I have just to- day received an account of the terrible misfortune that has overtaken you which is the first intimation I have had that anything unusual had hap- pened. . -. n . ,:.L,.._r_-n. ~v ., -_._7__V My heart is too full for words, and I can only breathe, May God bless and comfort you and give you the reward that is your due, which mortal is pow- erless to bestow! ‘All the truest sympathy and the gratitude of my heart is yours; yet I will not pretend that I can estimate the depth of your sorrow, though I can perhaps feel a. throb of its intens- ity when I think what my own pain would have been but for your noble and heroic efforts. While any heart truly aches for you in your grief, I will not be so false to my manhood, nor so niggardJy toward you, as to suggest that my sorrow can be com- pared. to yours, or to try to conceal the selfishly human joy I feel at knowing my darlings are safe, thanks to you; though God knows my joy is deeply tempered with pain, and it seems only justice that it should have 'been my loss instead of yours. And, dear, friend, rest assured He will know how to sustain you in the dark hour and comfort you in your sore need, and re- ward you {or your heroic unselfish- ness that,really,Iam almost unable to comprehend. Oh I hope you may be far toward recovery beforethis reaches you! I be- lieve you considered me your friend before, as I know I have ever meant to be, but now I must beg you to allow me by all ways in my power to be your true friend and help in any hour of need. Come to me at any time and demand any seryice [can render you, amL believe me, it will be ever my joy to help you, as a slight expression of the deep debt of gratitude I shall ever owe you. Please let me know at once what you wish me to do with the two children; and I will either arrange to come home and take care of them or have them brought out here, if you wish to be relieved of them though I need not say how- much I should prefer to have them in your charge still. if it be not askin you for still further sacrifice. Few griends. and true, are perhaps best; then may I not be yours? As soon as you are strong enough, write me a long, long letterâ€"'twill ease the pain to talk to some one if you canâ€"and tell me all. I shal be very anxious to hear from you. and when the night is dark and the world is cold and lonely â€"when your heart is sad. as well I know it often will beâ€"remember that you still have a friend. and write to me from your heart as to a. brother, counsellor, friend; and believe me ever, Your devoted servant. ARTHUR TREMON T. _\Vhen this letter reached its destina- tion, Mr. Desmond was sleeping quiet- ly. Truant consciousness had return- ed to her home some days before, and strength gradually gained. The doctor. who had just called to see her, said he thought she might as well be told when she awoke. "She must know some time and as well now as later. I suppose," he said in his gruff but kindly way. “I think she is strong enough to bear it safely, and the more strength. the more rebel- lion." She had been kept under the delusion that the children were all well, but her anxious requests to see them was met with a firm refusal. pleading as a reason that she was not yet strong enough. O, God! Is this my recompense?" she groaned. "Have I not suffered enough before? Didst Thou grant my prayer for strength to save his boy only to {award me thus? 01:. I would to God I had never awakened to this pain l" With one long, low. heartâ€"broken wail of more than human anguishâ€"a sound like the low wind moaning to the fret- ful surfâ€"she turned and buried her fiace in the pillow to shut the light from her avhing eyes that burned so in their quenchless, tearless agony. To Be Continued. A \VONDERFUL DOLLHOUSE. An imported dollhouse is about five feet in length and four feet in height; it has three stories, including one story in; a French roof, and it contains eight rooms and two hells. Among the rooms there is a parlor, library, dining room. nursery and a kitchen, and there are also three bedrooms. The rooms are handsomely and completely fur- nished. and the whole house is lighted by electric lights. There are tiny in- candescent electric lamps in every room. These are controlled by switches by means of which the lights may he turned on and off at pleasure. This dollhouse sells at $125. ter, says a (orrespindent in an ex- change. Some methodical women fix on stated sums to be appropriated for different purposesâ€"household, clothes, education of children and pin money, for the last sum is necessary to cover the many little incidentals, like car fare. the purchase ofa magazine, char- ity contributions or club dues. \Vhat- ever the appropriation it is never ex- ceeded. Want of arrangement means loss of time. which can never be re- gained. Order and punctuality are great economists of time, and cannot be too highly estimated. Icanno'*give unvary- ing rules, as circumstances dealiargely with every woman's life, and the size of |one’s income is an important factor. But I can give general rules which will be of advantage to all. 1 .Accounts in every household should be regularly kept, not an omission of the smallest article being permitted. They should be balanced at least every month; at the end of every week isbet- ééafié'fionié f? It is very necessary for the mistress of a household to be informed of the prices and goodness of all articles in common use. and 0fthe best places and times to purchase. She should know the comparative prices of provisions. that she may be ableto substitute thtse that are most reasonable when they will answer as wellas more costly ones. This applies to cases of small families which are often encumbered with unnecessary pieces of meal: under the impression that it is cheaper to buy that way. Now, there is no cheapness when the family dwearies of that kind of meat long before it is consumed, is there? A a teaspooonful of baking-powder to- gether three times. Whip the whites of three eggstoastilf froth, usinga wire whip, if possible. Add the sifted flour and baking-powder, whipping them lightly intothe yolks with the whip, andthen add the whites of the eggs Mix rapidly and thoroughly, still using the wire whip, and bake the cake in two shallow jelly-cake pans. When the cakes are baked, let them cool. They shOJld not b :ke too rapidly, or they will be hopelessly toughened, nor should they be beaten too long in mixing. To make the icing putacup of gran- ulated sugar over the firein a bright saucepan. Add five tablespoonfuls of water, and stir until it melts. Let the syrup boil until it begins to turnt o a. caramel. Do not stir it once, however, after it is melted and begins to boil hard. \Vhen it browns slightly, add two tablespoonfuls of water, but do not stir it inâ€"simply lift the saucepan and allow the fresh waterto melt into the raramelled syrup. Return the pan to the fire, and when it toils :igaintest a ilittle ofthe syrup. If it is hard when a drop is rolled between the fingers and the thumb itrequires more water; if it Emgllet portion at a higher price would be better because when it ceased to be appreciated it became waste. I do not intend this little talk to be taken by housekeepers alone, but by women wherever they may be. The un- married woman who earn every dollar which keeps her body and soul .in prop- er (ondil :on has Just as murh [0 do wi h the keeping of accounts as her married sister. I would not believe that until three years ago wheanas persuaded totry it for Six months. [L was dis- sister. I would not believe that until three years ago wheanas persuaded totry it for Slx momhs. [L was disâ€" tast Ll' at first, 111 sjotting down every little (oucentslapmt fur thread, but Idid it because I piomised tumake a faithful trial ofzhe plan. In much less time than the allotted six monihsl be- came dexoed to my account boook and I must confess that it has been instru- mental in keeping my expenditures down to proper limits. It has been of other value to me, for it enabled me to gauge the price of articles by what I had paid in the past. I know almost to a dollar what it costs to support me for a. year at my present rate of living, and just where I could cut down my expenses if I found such a. course necessary. [Another bit 6fadvice I have to ofâ€" fer. Take a receipt oraerttien paper of some kind to spew than money has been spent every time you makea pur- chase. The splendid system of our big stores provides suchepaper with each purchase, but there are many o.her places where careless women get noth- ing for the money they pay. They set- tle house rent. bills and pay room rent without taking areceipt and by great good luck have no trouble. Occasional- ly a. case comes up where a receipt would save them lots of trouble and money and than th ybecome mere care- ful And again ket'p those receipts until the law says that the bills could not be collected by dishonest or careless per- sons. They can be put away in big en- velopes, marked with the proper year and willreally take up but little room. If an occasion came up when one of those bits of paper was needed to prove one’s honesty all thetrouble of keeping the lot would be more than made up to you. Such occasions are more common than you think. I l To prepare an orange (wake, separate the yolks and whites of four eggs. Beat the yolks thoroughly with a cup of granulated sugur and add the grated rind and Juice of one Valencia orange. After this,sifLacup ofpasty flour and HOUSEHOLD ACCOI AN ORANGE CAKE Creamed Potatoesâ€"One quart of po- tatoes. cold.boiled, one half pint cream or rich milk, one saltspoon of salt and pin<~h black pepper, one teaspoontul flour; cut potatoes in one-half inch squares; season them and put in stew- ing pan; add cream;ou top of potatoes ‘put the butter; and over all sift the flour; five minutes before you wish to jserve them put stewpan on the stove; do not touch the potatoes until the cream begins Iobubble at side, of pan, and then Stir rousiantly till thick; serve at once on a hot dish. Apple Frittersâ€"Try a dish of apple fritters before the apples are all gone. First pare and core four sour apples and filo-e lh m,spiinkle with sugar and the spice â€" cinnamon or nutmeg and make a soft batter of scant cup of sweet milk. two eggs, yolks and whites beaten separately, a pinch of salt. a tablespomful of butter and a cup of flour, or sufficient to makeagood bat- ter, stirring in the whites of the eggs last. Sift ateespoeonful of baking powder with the flour. Court the appleâ€" the slices should beaquarter of an inch thick, withlhe batter and fry in deep fat like doughnuts. Serve the appleâ€" with vanilla. An other fruit as peaches, oranges or iananas can be used instead of apples, or the batter can be dropped by spoonfuls into the hot fat and served as plain fritters. At this season ofthe year a little lemon juice squeezed on the apple with the sugar improves the flavor. is sticky it needs more boiling. but if it isacreamy ball it is ready. Pour the syrup in a stream when the proper stage is reached, over the white of an egg. beaten to a stiff froth, and continue beating until the syrup has cooled enough to be creamy. Pour it at once over one ofthe cakes. Grate the outer peel from two red-hued Valencia oranges. Lay this grated peel aside while, you p=el 1hrap thy, white rind and the inner skin of the lobes from the pulp. Remove the seeds and cut the pulp iniOihis slices. Add to it the pulp of anot her orange prepared in the same way, and scatter the grated rind through allthe pulp. Pour the pulp, with the juice that has run out, over the second cake. and place the one that has been covered. with caramel icing over it. Fricasseed Chickenâ€"Take a spring chicken weighing {our pounds. Put it in about two quarts of cold water and watch that the water does not boil away. When tender add a quarter of apound of butter; salt to taste; make a thickening of a dessertspoonful of flour, mixed with a litxle cold water. Mukeadumang consisting of one pint of flour, one heaping Leaspoonful 0! cream of to nar, onF-hnlf teaspoonful of soda andalittle salt. Mix soft as pos- sible to roll; have the dumpling the size of the ketLle and make an incision in the center. Let it cook for twenty minutestohalf an; hour after putting it in before serving. Delicious Roast of Lambâ€"A delicious I‘OVlSt of lamb is secured by parâ€"boil- ing a. carefully selected leg, with four or five sm'ill onions in the water. When it is put into the oven the onions, which are. of course, by this time softened and scattered over it. One might fear that the dish v 011d be disagreeany per- meated with onion, but it is not; rather there is obtained a fine delicate sug- gestion oflhe vegetable, mingled with the native fluvorrfthe lamb, not quite devoid of any suggestion of wooliness. It should be basted otten while it browns. Baked Rice with Cheese.â€"VVash and pick over a. teacup of rice. Drop in- to boiling water slightly salted; rather lessth'in a qiart of water. Boil with- out stirring. so [hit the grains will be distinct. \Vhen tender, have readye. buttered baking dish with a layer of grated crumbs on the bottom. Put in a. layer of rice, then a smaller layer of grated cheese, until rice and cheese are used up. Then put on a. layer of bread crumbs. and pour over it this mixture; One well-beaten egg one cup milk, two tableapomfuls butter, one scant table- spomful salt. one~fourth teaspoonful dry mustard, one pinch cayenne. Bake twenty minutes in quick oven. An English Physician Advocates a New Method of Treating DI ease. Dr. Michea. a leading English physi- cinn has advocated a most original method of treating diseases. He cures his patients by fright. He has observ- edlhat in certain casesa sudden shock or {right produced a healing effect up- on lhe patient. He then carried his idea into effect by writing and send- ing to the patient anonymous letters, which contained everything uncompli- xnenmry he could think of, and to which [he bravest would not affix his name. Excitement of the patient at receipt of such a letter and the concentratlon of his mind upon the problem of find- ing out the aulhor of the abuse would cause a decided change and melan- chul)’ or hypochondria would soon take wings: Dr. Michea has tried every sort of frightening methods, and according to his statement. the effect is always beneficial. It is an acknowledged fact. he says, that rheumatic patients who have ei.her witnessed or experjenced a rail- road accident; begin to recover from their malady. Hysterical and epilep- tical cases are curable by this "fright" method. he asserts, while deaf and dumb persons have, in several in- stances, regained hearing and speech through the game means. Of course. (his cure can only be ap- plied in nervous diseases. It would hum quite the contrary effect were it to be applied to organic maladies. inges. Lay this g1 11", you p=el 1hr2p dthe inner skin of a pulp. Remove t x pulp inio this slice; SOME GOOD RECIPES. CURING BY FRIGHT. :r skin of the lobes from Remove the seeds and cut )ihis slices. Add to it the her orange prepared in the nd scatter the grated rind