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,brought into corn. III. "You will be pleased to hear, mater, deer, that corn is up twopcnce u cen- tal, and that the market is buoyant; that's the good of new blood being I would have been lost in medicine. “I have been studying the career of I corn prince, and it has five chapters. He begins/a poor boyâ€"from the north of Ireland by preference, but. thai is not necessaryâ€"then he attracts his chief‘s attention, who sends him out to America, where even the Yankees can’t hold their own with him. and. he becomes manager of his farm. His next move is to start in partnership with some young fellow who has money and no brains. I discovers by instinct that corn is go- ing to rise, so he buys it ahead by the cargo, and piles up a gorgeous sum- say £100,000. Afterwards he buys out Empty-head, and becomes the chief of a big house, with lots of juniors, and he ends by being a bank director and moving resolutions at the town hall. "Please don't interrupt, mother, for I am not done yet. Long before the town hall level rising corn man has one up by stages from‘_ the street off E’rincess road to an avenue near the .gark, and then into the park, and per- aps into the country, whence he apâ€" pears as High Sheriff. _ "One minute more, you impatient mother. A certain person who Will pretend to be nearly 50 when the corn man comes into his kingdom, but Will remain always at 25 exactly, and grow prettier every year, witl have a better set‘ of rooms in each new house, and at last will have her own carriage, and visit whole streets of poor folk, and have all Liverpool bleseing her. This is the com-piste history of the corn man and his mother as it will be ex- pounded to after generations of school boys by informin and moral philanthropist. \Vhat 0 you think of it i" - "I think that you are a brave boy, Jack, and your mother is proud of you and grateful; if it’s any reward for you to know this, I can say that the way you have taken your disappoint- ment has been one of my chief corn- forts in our great sorrow." "Don't talk as if I were a sort of, little tin hero, mater, or else I‘ll have to leave the room, for I'm nothing of the sort, really. if you only saw me at my desk or fussing round the of- fices,’ or passing the time of day on corn, you would see that I was simply born for business." "Jack," said Mrs. Laycock, solemn- ly, "you have not been without faults, Irn thankful to say; for you’ve been hot-tempered, hot-headed, wilful, and lots of things, but this is the first time you have been deliberately un- truthful.” "Mother, with all respect to you, I Will not stand this insult,” and so he‘ slipped down on the floor and caressed his mother‘s hand, "You think that I've no commericial ability, Wait for Ehelevent. It will be swagger, you et.’ . ‘.'I think everything that is good of you, Jack, as I ought, and. your fath- er did, but I know. that, it was very hard that you could not go back to Rugby this autumn and finish in the sixth, and go to Cambridge, and study It Cains, your fullle'r’s college, and get your M. 1)., and take. up your father‘s profession. and the one you‘ loved, the noblest a man can live and . . . . die in,” and there wasl a break in tho widow's voice. "Of course, mater, that is what I would have preferred, and it was a bit . . . stiff when I knew that it all would have to be given up, but that was nothing to . . . losing father. And, besides, I think that I may get on in business and . heip‘you, mother.” “Your father had set his heart on your being a dootor, and I don't know whether'he ever spoke to you about it, but he hoped you; might become a specialistâ€"in surgery, I think; he said you had the hands at least for a good surgeon. i "It was his own heart’s desire to be a surgeon pure and simple, and Mr. Holman, the great consultant, con- sidered him one of tho best operators in the provinces, but he was obliged to be a general practitioner. "\Vhyf 0, because he had no private means. and he had you and me to sup- port, so he couldn’t run. any risks. he had to secure a regular income, and there is something I wish you: to unâ€" derstand, in case you should ever think hardly of your father.” "Motherâ€"as if I could! The very people on the street admired father, you know what they said in the Morn- -ng Trumpet about his self-sacrificing life, and his skill bcing at the disposal of the poorcsi, without money and without price." . "Yes, the papers were very kind,and his patients adored your father, but I am certain some of our neighbors criticised him because he did not make better provision for his wife and child. As if he had been extravagant or im- proridenvt, who never spent a farthing on himself, and was always planning for our Welfare." "You are just torturing yourself with delusions, I am sure, mater. Did any single person ever Illlli ihnt fath- er had not done his duly by us? 1 can’t believe it." “One man did, at anyriitc,Jack, and that was our neighbor, .\Ir. Dodson. "\Yhat did he say, the miserable old curmudgeon? Did he dare to bring a chargc against father! I wish I had. bl‘t‘ll with you." "No, it was not that he said any- thing; It was rather what he implied; he just questioned and questioned in an indirect fashion, all by way of in- terest in our affairs, but. left the im- pression on my mind that he thought the doctor ought to have done better for his family." "What business had Mr. Dodson to call at all and to ferret into our af- fairs. who was never before in 'our house? If we needed helpâ€"which we 35% The Left Hand of Samuel Dodson By and by -he‘ . with interest. don’tâ€"he is the last man in this dis- trict to give it. Do you know he's the hardest, meanest creature in Liv- erpool! He'll leave a cab thirty yards from his house when: he's com- limit, and he goes down in the penny ’bus with the workingwo- men to save twopence." “There is a certain young corn broker," interpolated Mrs. Laycoek, "who walks all the way' to save even ‘that penny, and I don’t consider him mean.“ “That is economy, and indicates the beginning of a fortune which will be shared with a certain sarcastic mater. But Dodson is a millionaire, and has, nobody depending on him but an old‘ father was‘ housekeeper. Certainly not economical by his standard." "Your father was most careful and thrifty," said the widow, eagerly, "and that is what I want to explain. He had to borrow money to educate him- self. and that he paid back every penny Then, you know, a doctor can not keep himself for first few years with his practiceâ€"he only made £32 6d the year he began-â€" and when he reached £200 he did aâ€" foolish thing." "Let me. guess. mater. Was it not marrying the dearest, sweetest, pret- tieslâ€"” "Hush, you stupid boy i to keep up a certain appearance and pay a high rent, and we were very râ€"poorer than the public ever new. "Of course the doctor had a large practice before he died, and people used to think he made £3000 and £3000 a year, and Mrs. Tattler Jones, knows everything, said our income was £4000. “His last year your father carried £1800 and got in £1200; the other £000 will never be paid; and. yet he was so pleased because he had cleared off the last penny of his debt, and thought he would begin to lay something aside for your education." "But why did he not get the: other £0007 Could the people not pay 9" "They could pay everybody elseâ€" wine merchants, jewelers and car ownersâ€"but their doctor’s bill wasleft last, and often altogether, and your father would never prosecute." "And didn't falher attend many peo- ple for nothin‘ i“ "No one wil ever know how many. for hie did not even tell me: he used loo say that if he didn't get often. to church; he tried to do as people were told to do there; his commandment was the eleventhâ€"‘Love one another.’ " "’I‘hlat's the bell; and, see, six, seven, I declare, ten to begin withl Here‘s one in a rare. old-fashioned hand. I'll take off the envelope and you will see the name. W y, it’s a letter, and a long screed, an aâ€"checkl" "Have some of those thieves paid their account? You are crying, mater. Is it about father? May I see the lat- ter, or is it private?" "No, it’s about you, too, son. I wish you would read it aloud; I’m notâ€"- quite able." "Liverpool, December 24, 189â€".â€" Dear Madam: Along with many others in Liverpool, I experienced a feeling of keen. regret that in the inscrut- able actirtvgs of Providence your re- spected husband, Dr. Laycock, was, as if appears. prematurely removed from his work and family. "It must be a sincere consolation for his widow to know that no man could have rendered more arduous and salui- ary service to his fellows, .any of whom he relieved in pain, not a few of whom he was instrumental in restoring to their families from the portals of death. Without curiously inquiring into the affairs of private life, many ,persons were persuaded that Dr. Lay- cock was in the custom of attending [persons of limited means as an act of charity, whereby he did much good, won much affection, and doubtless has laid .up for himself great riches in the world to come, if we are to believe the good book. “I have not, however, sentl you this letter merely to express my sympathy, shared with so many who have the priVilege, denied to me, of your per- sonal friendship, or to express the ad- 'mmationv felt by all for the eminent departed. My object is differentand must be its own excuse. Unless I have been incorrectly informedâ€"and my au- thority seemed excellentâ€"the noble life of. Dr. Laycock hindered him from making that complete provision for his family which he would have desirâ€" ed, and other men walks of life could have accomplished. This disability I am stand, has seriously affected the career of your son, whom every one describes as a promising lad. so lhat he has been removed from a public school, and has been obliged to abandon the hope of entering our the study of medicine. "If my information be correct, it was his father's wish ihat your son should follow in his steps, aind it is incumbent on those who honored Dr. Laycock for lilS example of humanity to see that his cherished wish bl.‘ fulfilled. \V'iil you, therefore, in the light of the ex- planation I have made at some length. accept. the draft I have the honor to penalâ€"value £1000â€"and use ihe pro- ceeds ill affording to your son a com- plete medical education :it home and ubroadl The thought that the Ju<I de- sire of :1 good maul has no fallen to tho ground, and that a cPrr-iizi burrinn will b‘ lifted from his widow’s “5*. will bc more liniu sufficivui TOWNH- lpcusc to one who: will, so long .1: he may be sparcd, folfod‘ your son‘s (‘lll‘t‘t‘l‘ with >incere interest. Belicve me. my dear madam. your oblige-d and urine- ful servant, ‘ "XAI‘CHEI'S." "Hold ll up ilgulllsl the light. 111'1‘1'I‘I: it's the prettiest t‘lii‘isiuiis t'ul‘i’l we‘ll ever see. You ought 10 be laugliii‘g and um crying. But I feel :1 littleâ€"' just a tiny wee bit watery myself. "He might as well iol-l us his name: but: I suppose he was afraid of arow. mg from the station to keep within. . the shilling the‘ And we had ' who i in less unselfislil‘ given to under-‘ Ithe playgrounds. He must have a pile, and he kmoiws how to use it; he's (no Dodson, you bet. At any rate, though we don‘t know him, we can say God bless him, matten." "Amen," said Mrs. Laycook. the father knows.” IV. "How Ido I know that there is some- thing wrotng, Berti Because, we've .been married five years last month. and I can read your face like abook, or neither a great deal better than most books, but I'm! quite sure about your face. i “No. IdOIl't imagine, for you may be able to hide what you feel on the lFlalgs, but you let. out the secret at home; aind that is one reason why I love ‘you; because you are not cunning and secretive. Now, tell me, is cotton down, and have you] lost?‘ "Oh, yes, Bert, I looniw you'r prin- ciple, that a man 0 ht to bear the burden outside and t e woman inside the home; but therel are exceptions. You have acted up to your principle isplenididly. You have never said a , word all those years, although I know iyovu've hiad anxious times, and you‘ve ; helped tine many a time with my littlei trmhbles. Let me help you in. yours now." “Queemie, if you wa-ntl to put me lo ‘ utter shame, you have taken the right :w-ay, for it's your thrift and good management which have given us our happy home, and 1â€"" - "Yes, you, Bert, you have idled your time. I suppose, and spent your money on dress, and generally neglected your . family. For shame, sir. when you have done so well, and every one says that inobody is so much respected. Don’t ,look like that if you love me. What. is it?" ' "II is necessary that you be told, cold I was going to speak this even- ing, but it is very hard. Queenie, when I kissed the children. and look- edi at you all so happy, I fell; like aâ€" murderer.” "Haw youâ€"" "No, on my word‘ of honor, I have done nothing wrong, that I can say; neither you nor ihe little ones have any cause to be ashamed of me." "If you had I would. have stood by your side, Herbert, but I knew disâ€" grace would never come by you; then ,\\'h‘a‘1 is it? If it's only the loss of some money, why, I know half a dozen economies." 1 "It’s far worse than. that, wife, I fear. This will be our last Christmas in our dear little home, and it's all my blame, and I feel . . . the basestof men. As if you had trusted me when I had deceived you. all. “You are the best wife ever man had. . . . I feel better, and I’ll ex- plain it all to you. It is not very dif- ficult; it is so easy to be ruined."- "You know we are brokers, and our business is to bu . and sell cotton for other people, a we are responsible for them, so that if they can non-pay the losses, we have to find the money. "Two of our firms, which have been very kind to us, were sure cotton would go upâ€"and so it ought to have done, and will in the endâ€"and they bought so many bales through us. “Well, a big firm, which can do pretty much as it likes, seized the op- portunity of a fraud to rush in and upset the market, so‘ our friends and many others have to face declines they ‘ "I hope l can not meet. So unless our poor little firm can pay £110,000 at least on Monday, we must step, and . . . . all our hard work to build up an honorable firm is lost. "W's can partner and I have inc-ans to put in, and . all; £5000 short. "Yes, we have tried'the bank, but they can’t do anything there. Golds- worthy, the manager, is the nicest fel- low living, and his ‘No' is almost as good as another's ‘ch,’ but of.course it. was ‘No;' we had no security; the cotton may go lower before it turns, end he has told us we must pay." “But surely, Herbert, if the big firms' know how you were situated they‘ would help you, because things Would ‘ come right in a few weeks, you say." "Every man has to look after himself in the market. Butt I did: go to Huddleston, because he: has given me so much advicefi and wanted me toltake an interest in} the church. . I wish my tongue had: been burned before I crossed his room.. "No, he wasn‘t rudeâ€"that’s not his, sin; he mi'ght be better if he were straighter. He hoped that I was prospering in business, and remindâ€" ed me that I must not allow the world i to get too much hold, and became eloâ€" quent on money being only steward- ship. But when I opened up my cr- rand he explained that he had made it a principle never to lend money, 'and suggested that this was achas- toning because we has hosted to be rich. He h pad that the issue would be sanctified, . . but 1 rose, and left, quite sick." “ What a canling old wretchl" Mrs. .Ransome was very angry. “i always hated that man‘s soft. sawder; he’s ‘much too pussy to be true." “He was not bound to help me unâ€" 'less be pleased. Bul whrit riled we was his religious talk; he might have spur- ed me that zit deiist. And if those op- erators who have knocked lhe market to pieces haul in £30,000 they will like- ly give £1000 to missions. ‘ “\Ylien :1 man bus done his level best, and been fairly prudent, and has worked hard and is getting :i fiiil‘ l'UIl- net-lion, and everything is taken away by a big. unscrupulous, specula- . tive firm, which sees a clizini-e of makâ€" ing a pile at the ruin of half a dozen scrape £4000, and my £1000 private that's ’siruggling firms, it‘s :1 111119 bard." ‘ "'l'hoy ought U) be pin in jail: but they'll mil-h it some day 2" and it was l9VlIl9Ili _\Ii's. Rinsiune. like uiziiiyolh- ‘er pe lllll' in her cirt-umsinnces, found ,much satisfaction from the belief in ,fulurc punishment. " it‘s up! to make tlIl!‘ lJlIlP!‘_ mo," .Ransoino went on. “\\'lieii I s:il op- piisile old Dodson 7n the ’bus ihisnfâ€" lel'nlltlIlâ€"l‘lflnt‘ to ilie Iw-nny 'bus now, 1you see. Queenieâ€"looking out II‘OHIiie- low his sh-iggy eyebrows like a Scotch terrier with meanness written over his ‘been pleased to put in my hands for gold, chlnking in his pockets, and thought that he could save our home and secure my future by a oheck,and never miss the moneyâ€"suppose he lost it, which he wouldn‘t if I livedâ€"I de- clare I could have. . . . well, I did not feel as Christian as Huddleslon would desire." " But here is a letter which must have come by the last post and beenl forgotten; perhaps it's a Christmas card in advance. Let's see. 0, I say. you‘ve left me in darkness." " Come up to our room; we can openi it there; very likely it's a bill. Well?" "I sayâ€"Queenieâ€"no, it can‘t be a hoaxâ€"nobody would be so cruelâ€"and‘ here‘s an inclosureâ€"letter from Lon- don bankers confirmingâ€"sit down he- side me; we‘ll read it togetherâ€"so, as near as you can, and your arm round my neckâ€"just a second before we be- ginâ€"my eyes are all right now." " Liverpool, December 22, 189â€". “Dear Sirâ€"ll. has been my practice as a man engaged for many years in commercial pursuits, to keep swatch- ful, and I hope. not unkiiidly, eye on young firms beginning their business career in Liverpool. For the last five years I have observed your progress with much interest, and you willper- don my presumption and take no ofâ€" fense when I express my satisfaction as an old merchant with your dilig- ence, caution, ability, and, most of all integrity, to which all bear witness. "I was, therefore, greatly grieved to learn that your firm may be hard- ly pressed next week, and may be in danger of stoppageâ€"all the morelhatl I find no charge of folly can be l‘iroufihl‘ against you, but that you are the in-l direct victim of one firm’s speculativel operations. There is no one. I a'm also informed, from whom you can readily obtain the temporary assist- ance you require and are morally en- titled to receive. " The only satisfaction I have in life, is using such means as providence has l l l the suocor of people'who are in every way better than myself, but who are in some kind of straits. I have. there- fore. directed my London bankers to open an account for you and toput £10,000 to your credit. Upon this ac- count you will be pleased to draw such a sum as will tide you over the present crisis, and such other sums as will enable you to extend your busi- ness along the safe and honorable lines you have hitherto followed. I make no doubt that you will repay the said sum or sums to 'the samq ac- count as you may be ableâ€"no inter- est: will be acceptedâ€"and I only lay one other obligation on your honor, that you make no endeavor to discover my name. " Be pleased to accept my best wishes of this season for your admirable wife, your two pleasing children, and my confident hope for your final and large success in business. I remain, your faithful friend, " ZACC‘HEUS." " Let us go and kiss the children, hubhie, and thenâ€"we might say the Lord’s prayer together." ' To Be Continued. __.__ STA‘YLN' UP LATE. Every one who has ever been a child will recall that sense of injury en- tailed by being senhto bed earlyâ€"that conviction that you are being deprivâ€" ed of the most interesting part of the whole day. There is really no knowâ€" ing what the elders are up to when once they get the youngsters tucked up safe in bed, but it stands to re- son it must be very interesting, or why would they be in such a hurry to get the youngsters out of the way? With some children this amounts to! more than mere feeling. It was alit- tle girl of the latter sort who begged so hand to sit up just for once, that her mother one evening, not long ago, said that she might. How the little, girl‘s eyes danced at the prospect of all the wonderful things she would see for herself upon this her first occasion of ‘s‘itting up!“ How commisei'alingly', she regarded the other children, who were as usual packed off to bed at an early hour! She seated herself in her small chair, and eagerly awaited developments. But imagine her surprise when her paients as was their custom, seated themselves at the library table, and unSOlelllly, but hygienically, turning their backs to the light, began to read.‘ For some time the small girl rockedl away in her small chair in Silence, Then came a sleepy. plaintive vomezl “ Is this all you do i“ â€"â€"+â€"â€" I’ll'l‘S (ll-"FEMININITY. fad of the hour Fringes are the with English women. Corsages are cut in front like stays with a Louis XV. yoke. l The newest skirts are entirely with- out lining and worn over silk skirts with frills. The/latest fad in neckties is the long band of silk gauze which passes lw1ce. round the throat and terminates in, front in two bows and long ends. l‘ The double turnedâ€"down linen col- lar prevails just now for men and woo, mu-n. Fetching neck bands of white velvet with applications of heavy guipure lace are being worn. Stitched bands. are much used in trimming tailor frocks and should be lighter in color than the habit cloth.l The lace shawls that have passed through one or more generations are! now being used in the beautiful lace frocks that fashion decrees. + MOVED HIM. (‘leverronâ€"When you told her father you loved her, did he show much feel- ing? 1 Dnshau-ayâ€"Oh. yes. I don't know when I have been so movedl I. l ,catsd in my hip W l . Hr ‘ Eancheus? Why thats the mango.” shabby clothes, and almost heard thel [lllULll NUT DRESS ALONE. A Nova Scollim I-‘urnisr Tells of Ills In- tense Sum-ring Prom Rheumatism and How He Found Relief. From the Bridgewaior, NB” Enter- ,pi-ise. Such suffering as rheumatism cause. the Vlctlmu upon whom iffastens itself is almost unendumable. Only those who writhc under its pangs can imagine the joy of one whobei's been freed from its terrors. MJ. J. W. h‘ol- kenham, of New Elm, N. 3., is one of those who has been released from pain, and who believes it his duty. to let others know hpw a cure can. be found. Mr. Folken'hlwml is a farmer, and like all who follow this arduous but honorable calling, is subjected to much exposure, It was this exposure thalt brought on his trouble and caused him] so much suf- fering before he was rid of it. He says:â€" "In the spring of 1897i I contracted rheumatism. Through- out the whole summon I suffered from it, and about the first of October it became so bad. the I could not at out of the house. T e ins wereilo- and hue . and what suffered can hardly be expressed. became so helpless I could not dresl myself without aid. Eventually the trouble spread to my hands and arms, and at times these would lose all feelâ€"- ing and become useless. In November Ibegan usin Dr. Williams' Pink Pills, and after is ing four boxes began to improve. . After using six boxes the pains and soreness hadall gone andI was able to do a hard day’s work. I intend using a few more boxes more as aprecautionsry measure, and I would earnestly advise those suffering from this painful trouble togive Dr. Wil- linms‘ Pink Pills ii fair trial! and be .mads wsll. ' Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills cure by go- ing to the root of the disease. They renew and build up the blood, and strenthen the nerves, thus driving disease from the system. Avoid imi- tations by insisting that every box you purchase is enclosed in a wrap- per bearing the full trade mark, Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People. â€"â€"â€".â€"â€". WHY DO WE DO IT? It is surprising what a number of little things we ‘do without knowing the reason. Why, for instance, do widows wear caps! Perhaps you may say because they make them look pretty and in- ‘teresting. But the real reasonisthat when the Romans were in England they] shaved their heads as a sign of mourn- ing. Of course, a woman couldn‘t let herself be seen With a bald head, so she made herself a pretty cap. A‘nd now, though the necessity of wearing it has passed away the cap remains. Why do we have bows on the left side of our hats: In olden times when men were much in the open air and hats couldn‘t be bought for half a dol- lar, it was the habit to tie a cord uiound the crown and let the end; fall on the left side to be grasped on the arising of a squall. They tell on the left side, so they might be grasped by the left hand, the right usually being more usefully engaged. Later on theend got to be tied in a bow, and later still they became use- less; yet the how has remained, and will probably remain till the next do- luge or something of that sort. Why are bells tolled for the dead! .This has become so familiar apractico that a funeral without it would ap- pear unchristian. Yet the reason is quite barbarous. Bells were tolled long ago, when people were being buried, in order to frighten away the evilspir- its who lived in the air. Why do fair ladies break a bottle of wine on the ship they are christenâ€" ing? Merely another survival of bar- baric custom. In the days of sacrifice to the gods it was customary to get some poor victim when a boat was be- ing launched, and to cut his throat over the prow, so that his blood bap- tized it, Why are dignitaries deafened by a salute when the visit a foreign port! : It seems a curious sort of welcome this firing off of guns, but it seems the , custom arose in a very reasonable way. Originally a town or a warship fired off their guns on the approach of im- portant and friendly strangers to show that they had such faith in the visitors‘ peaceful intentions they didn't think it necessary to keep their guns loaded. \Vliy do we sometimes throw asboe after a bride? The reason is not very complimentary. From of old it has been ‘ the habit of mothers to chastise their children with a shoe. Hence the cus- tom arose of the father of the bride making a present to the bridegroom of a shoe. as a sign that it was to be his righl to keep her in order. â€"â€"+â€"-â€"â€"-. 1115 ANSWER. Little Mike, who has an inquiring li'nindâ€"lf'i" her! )IcLubberiyâ€"Phwotl . Little Nikoâ€"Father. av wan av iiiim pug dings was in follow his nose wud ,lie turn summci‘seis, or go down in. own I‘i‘Oal‘.’ McLubberiyâ€"AI'â€"i‘â€"r-r: 0i dunno! Bui' phwoi Oi d «know is thoi :iv ye: ask me aT'IO'llll‘l‘ quisiion loike thor. mo younlg intiri'ygalion p'int, aph to bed ye'll go loike yez was shot out av a ,gunl D'yez moind thot? A FORECAST. "The indications are. remarked the man who was looking at the sky with an oxpression of great wisdluun. lhat it will be cold and raw, The man who has trouble wllh the servant girl problem meekly inquir- ed: “'hich are you talking about. the weather or dinner.