crecp over the 'tiles to 5'1, and es- cape that way. I crept along the parapet, and could hear the policemen thunderihg at the door, and to my horror I found that a little coping of separa- "tion between 53 and 51 ran out be- yond the parapet. There was no hora. that way. and I thought I was done for, when just at that most hopeless mount-3n! there loomed up a better chance than ever. The whole crowd had followed the policeman to the and of the passage. and they were new ramming the bar- ricaded door. Consequently. the ï¬rst room I had passed at the head of the stairs was empty. and it oc- I felt sure the barricade would hold some time, I crept out through the windowâ€"it was a fearful squeeze for they say I am getting stout latelyâ€"and had made up my mind to creep over the 'tiles to 5-1, and es- cape that way. currm! to- me to slip through the window of that room and quietly make my way downstairs again, and an out through the back door. a little further to the light, and from behind that came two woman's shrill voices yelling “Murder!†So I passed on, and, turning an angle, found myself at another door. It seemed quiet. There was nothing for it. Up 'the next landing I rushed. A door was slammed in my face at the top of the. stairs. There was another door I might have had a shot for 'the back door, but that was too risky. It was certain to be locked, and it would have been awful 'to be caught l-ike thatâ€"with lights brought down, and the whole house staring at me. No. I was in for it now, so neck or nothing, said I, and rushed upâ€" stairs ag'ain, almost frightening the life out of the Billbanks. I had the idea of dashing into the room, look- ing the door, putting on my clothes, and leaping out of the window. It Was. only the ï¬rst floor; and if I did not fall into the area, I was pretty safe to get away. But there was ho chance. The Billbanks had rush- ed into their room as they saw me coming, locked the door, and began yelling, “Murder! Murder! ! Murâ€" der ! ! l" If I had stopped a moment to think it would have been all nght, but I didn't. I was marked for ill- ]uck that night. 1 sprang out of bed and rushed downstairs, frightenâ€" ing tl‘o “its out of the Billbanks. It was too dark to see who I was, but they could see I wasn’t in evening dress. I rushed down to 'the front door, but they had locked and bolted it on coming in, and there was no 'time to be lost, especially as they were shouting at the top of their voices and Irousing up the whole house. The whole thing p my mind in an instant into the wrong house. I was hoping to get home before my wife, and I was lucky, for she was not in. I was a little afraid 10 light, the gas, because I had told her I was going to bed early, and I thought. it might hurt her feelings if she saw the gas lighted when she re- turned. So I 'took off my clothes in the dark, and tumbled in. Presently I heard them come in, and lock the door below, and come quietly upstairs. I thought it best 'to pretend to be asleep, and I really was half asleep. But when the door of my room opened I heard a shriek, and a loud cry: “There's a man 'tlceze !" I sat, u and saw a man and a woman nnrying away from the room, and to my surprise I recog- nised Mr. and Mrs. Billbank. The whole thing passed through by Jove! it was too serious to do either. One house in a row is very like another, and in Belmont Row especially. Fifty-one is just as much like. ï¬fty-three as two peas. Even in ordinary timeâ€"that is in daylight-1' can only' tell the differ- ence by seeing the number. And that night it was a. little dark. My wife and my sister-iml‘aw had gone to a sort of party at the doe- tor's. I pretended I had :1 Violent headache and wanted to go to bed early: and after they were safely off the premises, I slipped out, and Jenkinson and myself had a quiet chat and a game of draughts at the Bird-inâ€"Hand. I was hoping to get home before my wife, and I was lucky, for she :Wfls not in. I was a. little afraid to light the gas, because I had told her I was going to bed early, and I thought it niighthurt her feelings if she saw the gas lighted when she re- turned. So I 'took off my clothes in the dark, and tumbled in. Presently I heard them come in, and lock the door below, and come That hint about the clothes was a. happy one. for I had all along been haunted by the idea that even if I did get away over the roof, still there would be the plain evidence of my clothes. marked with my name. Therefore, once more it was neck or nothing. There was no time to change clothes, so I rapidly bundled up my own garments, and then, nodding and lauging to the police- men, while we could still hear the thunderings of the battering ram upstairs, I slipped downstairs, openâ€" ed the back door, locked it after me, found myself in the backyard, ran with surprising nimbleness, and‘leap- ed and scrambled over the Wall. Oh, what a relief! I still had hopes of slipping in quietly. I met my wife upon the stairs. The thing had gone beyond deception, and when she saw me there, carrying a bundle in my hands and dressed in that extraordinary rig, she looked at me in such a fashion that I felt like a schoolboy caught stealing jam. She took me into the room, and made me confess all. only in London, said Jopling, I Suppose. could such a thing happenâ€" and in London even, I believe. only to me. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry over it. At the 'timc, by Jove! it was too serious to do either. One house in a row is very like another, and in Belmont. Row especially. Fifty-one is just as passed through t. I had come No, sir. There was only one way. To take them out and leave [them somewhere. But to take them out in what 7 It would look very odd if I were to take a. parcel under my arm, or even a. carpet-bag. The on- ly thing was to get a. Gladstone bag, especially as I rather wanted one at the time. I could take them away in that. and empty them out at some quiet comer. I got a. small bagâ€"twenty-ï¬ve shilling-s, second- hand. And after my wife had re- I suppose you think the story is ï¬nished. Oh, what would I not have given at one time if it had been ! The clothes remained. They were on my mind all next day in my room at Somerset House. How to get rid of them? You think it very easy, do you ‘2 Well, try, that’s all. Try, for once! We could not put them in the sink. We could not put D, in the window, and have tltem taken away by the dustman. We could not burn them, on account of the smell. “But,†said Mr. Billbank, with the air of a man who reserves the titâ€"bit for the last, "What do you think ? He had not a stitch of clothes "on ! No, not a stitch. Not a stitch ! Did he, dear ?†Mrs. Billbank blushed and slamâ€" mered, and muttered that it was “dreadful !" “And what’s proofâ€"there was no trace of anything belonging 'to him, about the house, and he stole a suit of clothes out of the wardrobe !†"But how 'did he get away," I ventured to ask. In spite of myself there was a quaver in my voice, and I felt my wife's eye upon me. “Get away! That will tell you what a desperate character he was. The policeman who was stationed at the first-floor says he saw him leap from 'the roof out into 'the back yard a height of ï¬fty feet ! It’s a mercy we are not all murdered!†Well, next day, after I had come home from my ofï¬ce, Llie Billhanks called in. They were never very friendly before, but this was an oc- casion, and they wanted to goesip, and all the rest of it, I could have sat down and laughed till my sides ached to hear their account of the "Strange Aï¬air." Mrs. Billbank swore she saw a big knife in my hand. “No, not a. carving-knifeâ€" bigger ! More like a butcher's knifeJ." She shuddered. “Perhaps some drunken man ’2" said my wife. It was a. vicious cut. “Oh, no !" said Billbank. “The police know him ! The hear‘ con- stable told me that they have been on his track for a long time, and on several occasions just missed catchâ€" ing him.†Bobbyâ€"Pop, did you know mmm Very well befone you her ‘7 ' Oh, it was a. lucky thought I I 'did it very quietly, and had ar- rive'd near the ï¬rst floor when, to my horror again, I saw another polâ€" iceman coming up. He saw me, too so, putting on a. look of fuss and excitement and, at the same 'time, familiarity, I boldly approached. “He‘s there yet !" I whispered. "But as soon as the door is forced lopen I’m afraid he might make a dash for it, and get past, so I want, to get his clothes and take them down into the basement." so, putting on 3. 1c excitement and, at familiarity, I bolt “He‘s there yet "But as soon as t} Iopen I’m afraid he 'ernpeckâ€"No; I'm afraid not' Gentleman (to house agent) : ‘ the house won't do. I drm't like drain." House Agent ’ “Drain, Why, the sanitary arrangements perfect." Gentleman: “I m the drain on my purse; the r( too high." The manifold uses to which paper is now put forms a stock subject for the hard-up pennyâ€"aâ€"liner, says an English exchange, but, as a rule, the recital of his facts usually beâ€" gins with the formula : “It is said," 01‘ “we l'ear.†Paper clothing is one of the latest things mentioned in this line, and there is no doubt about this, for an entcï¬â€˜prising‘ ï¬rm- of tailors in Berlin is now offering to supply complete suits in paper for 106. The iii-111’s advertisement gixes full instructions for selfâ€"measâ€" urement. and is appearing in jourâ€" mals, publisihed elsewhere than in the Fatherland, so that an export made is evidently looke‘d for. The material is closely woven, and not at all ï¬inls‘y looking. “For a day?†he criéd. “Good heavens, Jopling! What have you been doing with yourself? That ofï¬ce is killing you ! You must go to 'the seaside at once. for a month!" I did. Before I went my wife said that it was no use taking my latchâ€" key with me. And whenever I 'think of asking her for it again, the memâ€" ory of that fearful night crops up, and my heart fails me.â€"London An- swers. connoitrcd for a quarter of an hour, I sallied out. Yes; it is all very well. Get a quiet place; empty them out! Find your quiet place for a man to walk with a bag in his hand in these days of Anarchists ! Find it, that's all I I was nearly right once in Queen's Square. but, just in time, I perâ€" ceived a policeman approaching with his eye on (no. Then. again, I nearly had a rhance at Waterloo Bridge to throw the whole thing in- to the Thames. But there was a waterâ€"policeman there, and visions of arrest for supposed infanticide flash- ed through my harassed brain. I made the tour of the Inner Circle. hoping to get a carriage to myself; but, no, someone always came in. Once I thought I was clear. I had left the parcel in ’the waitingâ€"room at H'ammersmith, having purchased a ticket for Ealing. I waited till the train had started, and then rush- e'd out and got into a ï¬rst-class carâ€" riage, leaving the hideous bag be- hind. Out rushed a porter immed- iately afterwards. I tried to wave him off; that it was too late; that I was going to return for it! But the guard swung out, caught the handle of the bag, and kept if for me. He brought it to me at Turn- ham Green, and I tipped him six- pence ! It was too late to go to the ofï¬ce that morning, so the only thing to do was to call in the doctor and get sickâ€"leave. I entreated him to give me a certiï¬cate for a day. I spent 15$. 6 d. in this way, and then at daybreak resorted to the railway trick. Finally I succeeded out at Slough. An idea came ‘to meâ€"to call a hunsom and drive about, either In the same hansmn or no changing hansoms, until daybreak. The 'driv- er might be suspicious, and think me queer. But. after all, it, was not incriminating; and, if I paid him well, what matter to him 7 Then came a fearful inlcrval. It is right enough for a man to carry a small bag in his hand as long as trains are running. He may have either just arrived by train, or he may be going 'to catch one. But when there are no trains. I walked right along Uxbri'clge Road, down Oxford Street, Holborn. right down to Commercial Road, Whitechapel, and every policeman I saw looking more and more suspi- cious, some even following me a lit- tle way; and if they suggested peep- ing into my bag. a nice tale I should have to tell. No. The whole thing would be out. V It was too terrible. There was no turning back, for why should a man with a bag go some distance one way and then retrace his steps? On, on, on I walked! I shall never forget it. I had Walked at least twenty odd miles already, and was now ï¬t to drop, for I had never walked more than half a mile at a. stretch for years. PAPER CLOTH; WHAT NEXT? agent) : “No, drm't like the ’ “Drain, sir? time, I perâ€" oaching with n. again, I at Waterloo ments are ‘I meant the rent's Tomatoes Stuffed with Cree Prepare large, ï¬rm tomatoes ec'tod for above recipes, at them with cooko'd green peas have been stirred over the ii ï¬ve minutes with 1 tablespoo rubbed smooth in 1 tablespo ter. Cover the tops with crumbs and a piece of butter bake for 20 minutes in a hot spoons vinegar and 4 tablespoons meltod but'tm: Savory Stewed Tomatoes :â€"Skin and cut up the tomatoes in the us- ual way. Put. 1 tablespoon butter in an Enameled saucepan, add 1 tea- spoon sugar. and fry a few slices of and cut ual way in an pocn Sl V n-.. v .y... Tomato Salad :â€"Peel the 'tomaâ€" toes, and let them lie in cold salt water for half an hour. Then drain and slice very 'thin. Lay 'them in a bed of crisp lettuce leaves, sprinkle with' salt and white sugar pour lemon juice over them. and serve \‘cl‘y Cold. Another excellent salad is prepared by sprinkling the sliced tomatoes with ï¬nely minced green onion, season to taste, and pour oVor a dressing made with 2 table- spoons Hnegar and 4 tablespoons Fried Green Tomatoes :â€"Slice the tomatoes, remove the seeds, and soak for an hour in salted water. Brain, d'ip each slice in beaten ~egg and bread crumbs; season, and fry in hot butter till a delicate brown on both sides. Corn Scalloped with Tomatoes :â€" Arrange alternate layers of peeled and sliced tomatoes and cooked (om in‘ a buttered pudding dish. Season each layer to taste and add little bits of butter. Cover the top with buttered crumbs, and bake for half an l‘our in a quick oven. , Stuffed Tomatoes: Cut a slice off the tops of as many large, ï¬rm tomatoes as will be required. and with a spoon carefully remove the pulp. VPress this though a sieve to remove the seeds. For 6 toma- toes, add to the pulp a: cup ï¬ne bread crumbs, 2 tablespoons lxxeltcd butter, 5 cup chopped veal or chick- en, 1} teaspoon minced parsley and seasoning to taste. Stuff the toma- to shells’ with this, DUE“. of butter on 'top, and set oven for 20 minutes. 77;.“ ‘0- ton, and then worked in satin stitch. running from 'tap to bottom of the leaves. The stems are done in chain, 01' in the ordinary stem stitch. Scrolls are found in a good many designs. They are embroidered in simple outlining. Any couching or d-ax'ning stitch may be introduced for scallops. Everv other nnn Amâ€. m simple outlining. Any couchng or d-al'ning stitch may be introduced for scallops» Every other one done in some such way gives quite an elabor- a'te effect. for a doily. Hematitched or buttonholed edges will be most satisfactory for Conlâ€" mon use. Drawnwork, lace edges or fancy fringes do not stand washing so well. and of course are better suited to articles which will be laun~ dried but seldom. For an ordinary grade of linen a moderately coarse silk should be used, but if the linen is very sheer use a ï¬lo floss. The edges of any article to be but- tonholed should ï¬rst be padded with embroidery cotton to give tham a heavier, richer appearance. This is dore by running several rows 'of stitcl'es around the. scallop in an opposite direction from the button- hole stitches, which will cover them. A simple design is appropriate for almost any numLer of pieces. Maid- enhair fern is always eflective. The sprays are readily adapted to a great variety of articles, and new methods of arranging 'them will easily suggest themselves to the worker, so that it will not be neces- sary for her 'to duplicate any piece unless desired. It is especially pret- ty for corner decorations. It is ï¬rst raised slightly with embroidery cotâ€" ton, and then worked in satin stitch. running from 'tap to bottom of the leaves. The stems are done in chain, -A good, substantial quality of round thread linen will be most ser- viceable for a set of this kind of work, though if one is willing- to sacriï¬ce general effect, a much ï¬ner grade may be used. The style of embroidery known as Mountmellick is not new. It originâ€" ated many years ago near the town in Ireland for which it is named. It admits the use of a large number of stitches, and allows one to for- get many of 'the rules for embroiderâ€" ing in the ordinary solid Kcnsington manner. § About gemaguemug TABLE TOMATOES IN VARIETY LLNEN EMBROIDERY (on green peas wï¬ich ‘ed over the ï¬re for th 1 tablespoon ’flour in 1 tablespoon butâ€" the tops with bread this, put a little bit with Green 13‘ tomatoes as a cooked (0m dish. Season and add little the top with bake for half a hot. oven. 1 the 'toma- 11 rows bf lop in an the button- Hg our priz- 65 the work orc- is some efully prized “something or "Work 0! in a. hot. as dir- d ï¬ll arid If 5 a hear’t it palps for youâ€"â€" T'hy voice is 111116 melodyâ€" ‘T1's 7 to be thy loved 1, 2â€" Say, Oy nymph, wilt many me ’2 Then lisped she soft, ‘Why, 18ly." was on his knees." Papa: “And do you think for one moment that that clerk of mine was in a position 'to propose f0 you ?" Daughter: "Why, certainly, papa; he 2 lovers sat beneath the shw'de, And 1 un2 the other said: How 14 8 that you be 9 A motor fan should be planed near an open window or other opening mli‘cre it. can draw fresh air. If in a. (writer or center of a room it, simply stirs up foul air. In order to secure certiï¬cation of his milk by the milk commission of New York City, tlte dairyman must have a clean ('cmon't floor sitable, with whitewashed walls and abunâ€" dant windows. Cows must. be sponge‘d and their tails scrubbed be- fmc each milking. White suits must be worn by attendants, boftles and utensils welded. and ï¬lled bob. tic-.9 kept on ice and Shipped only in refrigerator cars. An attack of typhoid fever, of pneumonia, or of crysipelas that would be mild in a sober man will kill one addicted to alcohol quickly. A circular has been issued by Paris physicians taking the x‘mdiCal ground that alcohol is never and never can be of any use whatever to the organism. It's a good plan to take care of gilt picture frames yourself, they are so ca:in injured with vinegar or acid preparations. For their ordin- ary dusting. use a. clean, soft dust cloth. When extra cleaning seems absoluton necessary, apply rain wa- ter with a few drops of ammonia. By the way, soft water is ever so much better for any domestic pur- pose, as everybody knows, because it is more dissolving. New baking tins if given a good rubbing with fresh lard and then thoroughly heated in the oven, will be protected agaimt rust. Indeed, lard or grease is better for cleaning them after they have been used than soap and water. And cake or bread dough is not so likely to stick. Whiting or soda, rubbed on with a damp rag will remove burnt stains from earthenware pudding dishes. Zinc ba'th tubs, water buckets and other utensils can be kept from get- ting to look old and discolored by cleaning every now and then with a. hot' solution of salt and vinegar. This is also good for copper cook- ing utensils. One has to give extra. care to these, for Without it they can really become unsafe to prepare food in on account of 'the poisons that collect with corrosion. If they or the zinc vessels be very dirty. of course a scouring with soap and ashes at ï¬rst is a good plan. Tin teakettlos may be 11k 015' clean- ed with kerosene, but must of course be \ery carefully washed so that no traCe of the oil will he left. Dï¬l‘kt of padding, besides feeling soft and \‘olVety to walk om. From bran stair rods, and indeed any brass articles which have been neglected and are consequently dis- colored almost past recognition, so much so as to prm'e very tedious to cleanse in the ordinary way, oxalic acid will remove fl’e bl-ackest stains at once, and after a. little polishing with chamois skin they look as good as new with very little trouble. The stair carpet needs to be cut a. little longer then the exact measure- ment of the stairs so as to allow it i0 he shifted 8 or 10 inches each time it is taken up. This makes it wear more evenly and prevent: that Worn s't'rip along the edge of {he step from QOIning. Two or 'three newspapers folded to the right size and shape on each step both saves the carpet and greatly improves the appearance, giving very much the may catch in gular chair cane sea't, if yourself. fast, It is too had to have wooflcn scu'ts put into the once cuneâ€"scn'ted chairs. They are not nearly as comfortable, and are liable to split, especially where tloy have to be trimmed close- [y to (it 'the chair; and then one never knows just when the nails In repainting old chairs, either black or white looks much better than {my colored paint one can use. Old hath 'tubs can be nicely freshen- ed up with a coat of paint, besides numerous other household articles which easily suggest themselves. potatoes. Bake for 15 minutes in a hot oven, then draw the dish to the edge of the oven, and carefully break an egg on top of each tomato. Seas: on, put a little bit of butter on top of each, and return to the oven until the eggs are set. It may be necesâ€" sary 'to remove a little of the pa.- tato to make room for the eggs. This is a delicious dish for break. onion in it to a pale brown. Then turn in the tomatoes, season to 'taste with salt and pepper, add I sprig of parsley and a. pieco of bay leaf, and simmer gently for one hour. If they are preferred quite thick, add I‘mc bread crumbs. Tomato Eggs :â€"Cut a. slice from the 'tops of 6 large, ï¬rm tomatces, remove the pulp, and ï¬ll the cavi- ties with nicely seasoned creamed Tomato the 'tops of remove the ties with potatoes. 1 hot oven, 11 edge of the e smiled M AT’l‘E‘RS OF HEALTH ABOUT THUG HOU .931“. ECONOMICAL upon this suit of mine men'der put, in a. new you can't plait one in the clothes Let a re-