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In letrcspect this year of Jessie Meade's life seemed five. She shot up several inches in height and her mental and moral gro“ th kept pace with the physical. The utter de- struction of her early associations, the loss of home, the sudden and reâ€" peated irrnption of death, gave her the emotional experience of years. .The sorrow of her triple bemavalâ€" Yet one thought throbbed gfowing- ly in his breast; this agony of yearn- ing. this tenacious clinging of the heart. meant nothing less than love. He was quite mire now he. shonld love her and no other to the end of his life; lently \vrenched from its place. 'As for Philip, he felt that all that wns 111051. Vii/.1] in him was left, beâ€" hind with Jessie, while he rushed on aimlessly into a. blank, homeless void. Jessie did not lzcod, she saw noth- ing but Philip’s vanishing face; it seemed an if her life had been vie-â€" lently \vrenched from its plum. "He'll Write from Dover to-night,” she said, “and that you’ll hev toâ€" morrow. Then at. Calais he’s to Write, and at Paris. Dear, dear, what expense he'll be at with post~ age to he sure. Lock1 up, Jessie, look up, ’tisn't many of our sort can be engaged to a fine young officer like Philip." Jessie stood on the platform by the carriage-door with him till the last moment; every tick of the sta- tion clock seemed to beat some life out of their throbbing hearts: they held each other's hands, and when the last bell clanged and their hands were forced apart, the jangling strokes crashed on the two bruised young hearts. The engine panted away, Philip looked back till the bend of the road swallowed him up and he could no longer see Jessie, and the yearning gaze of each was met by vacancy. Then Cousin Jane, who had been standing at a bookstall showering tears upon the monthly magazines, came bustling forward and hid Jessie make haste home to Miss Blush- lord’s. love gift be unlucky ?” They sat alone together in Mrs. Plununcr's house till late that, night, counting the minutes. Next morning they drove together to Cleave station whence Philip started for Dover, on his Way to India. “Don’t you like Opals ?” he asked. "I thought you did; that, is why I chose them." “Ah! but. the bad luck !” “Foolish child," he said, tenderly, his heart going out to her in a rush of pitying love, "how can a. true- love gift be unlucky ?” "Yes," she replied, looking up from 1281' flowers with a faint smile. "And I often thought they cared most for you. Especially father. They were so proud of you.” "And I such a. beast," he thought. Then he asked Jessie to renew the death-bed promise, and they clasped hands solemnly over the graves, and he put a ring on her finger. "Oh ! Phi'ip," she exclaimed, when they turned to leave the spot, “it is an opal 2mg.“ "My loss was greater than yours, Jessie,” he said, after a. long 511â€" cute; "I owed them more.” All who had cared for him orphan sister lay there bone turf; Le must carve out a p] life of his own. ing‘, they him before Yet he must now be a nameless, kinlcss man; 'his last forlorn hope that he might discover his own origin in looking through fr. Meade’s papers was gone. He deâ€" cided once for all to think no more of his dubious origin, from the knowledge of which, in spite of his efforts to learn it, he shrank. fearing‘ dishonor. le fell, that he ought to know, but since he had failed to find out from Matthew Meade, he would remain henceforth ignorant. But for the Medways, the secret would have died with Mr. Meade. Something more than pride or fear restrained him from (onsulling Sir Arthur Medway, who would probably con- clude that Matthew Meade had told} him all them was to know on hisr coming to man’s estate. And, after all, if there were any profit in Rnouu, He was glad now that he had choâ€" sen the lowly home at Stillbrooke rather than Marwell; what would the mono brilliantâ€"SOUR)ng life have proâ€" fited 'him it he had remained a com- parative stranger to those two kind hearts, now stifled forever? Before he left England, and resignâ€" ed Jessie to the temporary care of her other guardians, they went to- gether to the graves of their father and mother, which Jessie had made pleasant | with flowers and greenery. As he stood there, l‘hilip thought, of all that, they had done for him. But, for Matthew Meade's beautiful charâ€" ity to an orphaned childâ€"waif, what. might his lot have been? A work- houso boy, a nameless, homeless unit in that muss of shipwrecked humanâ€" ity, unlnught and unloved, what, chance of even a decent life would have been his ? ti «Mmmmmmmcmom'gog CHAPTER VII.-â€"(Cont.) Before he left England, and resignâ€" Jessie to the teluporm'y care of ' other guardians, they went, toâ€" .her to the graves of their father Ll mother, which Jessie had made asanl, ~\\'ith flowers and greenery. he stood there, l'hilip thought of that they had done {or him. But, Matthew Meade's beautiful charâ€" to an orphaned childâ€"waif, what. ght his lot have been? A work- ISO boy, a nameless, homeless unit that muss of shipwrecked humanâ€" , untuught and unloved. What. .1109 or even a decent life would '0 been his ? for she was bereft, if only for a. time, of Philipâ€"was too great. She dared not think of ii. Occupation was her great, panacea. She had always done her schoolâ€"tasks easily if unwillingly, she now manifested a hunger for knowledge, a hunger that Miss Blushford was unable to ap- pease by the genteel hinges of knowâ€" ledge and the flimsy “accomplishâ€" ments” which composed her school bill of fare. Happily Cleeve boasted ()f a fair public library to which Mr. Cheeseman was a subscriber, and in that library, which was little trou- bled by the cornâ€"dealer himself, Jes- s'ie pastured at will. EWQMMWMOWSEOfi3OMQQ” CHAPTER \7111 v “HI, ,4. van J1] n_uuu- éheiyfi vfb-fild surely have told A MENG PMMEE this year of Jessie med five. She shot as in height and her :11 gm“ th kept pace OR, THE MISSING WILL n and his Heath the place in V In most families there is one helpâ€" less member dependent on the rest, it, was so with the Blushfords; one daughter was imbecile, Miss Blushâ€" ford supported her in a private house One male Blushford had failed in business and passed his prime in hunting for odd jobs, looking for Iicommissions, and hovering on the Iverge of bankruptcy, whence Miss lBlushford pel'1.ctuail_v plucked him: [she educated ltis nine children and gset, them out in life Hm- fnfhnn'n fsccond family she also educated and set, out in life, and supported "her stepmother till her death. No Won- der Miss Blushford was poor. Her elder brothers were men of sub- stance, it is true, but they had famâ€" ‘ilies whom they could not rob. Her sister “kept her carriage,” and was ashamed to owu poor Bessie, but no help was forthcoming from her; it. was preposterous to suppose that, her husband would rob his children to support his wife’s rela- tions! So Bessie, upon whnse youth one golden beam of romance had fallen. renounced the husband and children and carriage that she might have had. and drudged on, in most. prosaic, unreco ized harm, to maintain the he less members, winning; little but. the contempt m‘ all in return. Miss Blushford was a good woman and loved Jessie, who loved her in xeturn. She was about, fifty, up- right, thin, exact, selfâ€"denying, tim- id and rigid. What inteflcct she ever ’possessed had been wom away in smillâ€"liorse drudgery and petty anxio- itics, what little knowledge she ever 'vallil‘ed frittered away in constant imeclianical repetition to her pupils. Her school had a good reputation, it, was select. Jessie had with great difficulty and much heartâ€"searching been admitted to it; it was expensive and yet Miss Blushiord was poor. And she had nothing put by for old age or sickness. She was a. lonely ‘woman, yet she had many to sup- port. sal ignorance mistresses. I The girls were gone to bed. the as- Isistmit teacher was spending an evening out, and she was alone with her parlor boarder, who was appal» ently taking the opportunity of i111- provi:‘.g her mind by instructive conâ€" versation. Miss Dlushford had con- versed with fluent urbanity about an hour in reply to Jessie's timid questions on history, literature, science, and art, under the impresâ€" sion that she was filling her listen- er’s mind from her own superabunâ€" dant stores of knowledge, when all of a. sudden it flashed upon her that she was playing the part, not of philosopher to disciple, but of pupil to examiner. Miss Blushiord quick- ly turned the conversation to lighter themes, and Jessie stitched thought» fully at the abhorred woolâ€"work,‘ wondering if Miss Illushford's colos- Poor Miss Blushford! The even- ing following the procession of Byron to his dusty seclusion was not. a happy 'one for her. Miss Blushford had been too much edilied at finding her pupil anything more solid than a story-book, to look for rocks ahead in books that bore the respectable word history on their backs; the ologies and one- mies inspired her with confidence; it was not; until the sad day when she found Jessie poring over a large volume inscribed with the alarming ‘name of Byron, that she awoke to the duty of tasting the child's menâ€" tal fnod. Byron, carefully shrouded in brown paper, lest respectable citâ€" izens should be scandalized by seeing him borne openly throngh their streets, was promptly returned to the dusty shelf on which he had long mouldez'ed by Miss Blushford’s own correzt hands, and the Works of Cowper were given to Jessie in comâ€" pensation; she was further hidden to denote' more time to her “accomâ€"‘ plis-hments,’.’ and in particular to paint a group of flowers on velvet, and do some wool-work for the sofa. She had never dreamed that the universe was So wide, so wonderful, so teeming with interestâ€"life seemed worth living in spite of the shadows darkening it. One happy day she lighted on the “Fairy Queene;” then she discovered Chaucer; Shakespeare, duly Bowdlerized, had been presented to her in driblets in the school course, and was now commended to her in seven expurgated, calfâ€"bound, musty volumes by Miss Blushford, who was in blissful ignorance of Chaucer’s infinitely direi' need of a. Bowd'er'. wonder what poor \Bexsie will erLCtuaily plucked him; :1 ltis nine children and :t in life. Her father’s {3* she also educated and life, and supported Tor till her death. No won- ere normal in school- It was a, ghastly satire on our boasted progress and civilization; it -might. have been sliil quore ghastly Jbut .for a few brave and noble men, who 'turned a, deaf ear to popular ‘clamor and public obquuy, and 'did Jessie’s letters were of necessity fewer, since she could not dot them along Philip’s route; they too were at first tender and full of heartâ€" break, but iePi-gned and meek: they lacked the storm ' revolt of Philip’s; gradually the t iderness and heart- break faded out of them, and the letters on both sides became chron- icles of what betel] each, mingled with requests on Jessie’s part, and good advice by way of answer from Philip. Almost immediately after he started for India. the news 01 the Mcerut and Delhi outbreaks thunderâ€" ed through England, to be followed by still more tragic tidings throughâ€" out the summer and autumn. As each tragic episode in the draâ€" ma. of the Mutiny unfolded itself and was told in England with all the exaggerations of fezu‘, mystery, pity, and indignation, a sort of madness seized upon the people, to whom the ltnowlcdge that Christian women and children of their own race were slaughtered and tortured by that inferior and subject heathen race. tley had been accustomed to ‘hold so , ‘choaply, was a horror beyond (-nâ€"i‘ durance. War, which to other naâ€" tions means invasion and the sufferâ€" ing. it not the slaying, of women and children, the breaking up of homes, with famine, tire and pestilence, has a milder face for inviulate England, whose soldie!s alone taste its imâ€" mediate horrors. All the pwgudires and aiitipal-lzies of religion, rare, and Paste \veze $tung into fierce Vitality; by the suffering and tlz'grmlaiion of! helpless I'inglish in Jilin, whose countrymen at home were Dowe legs; ed not open it‘ The letters “came last and thick at first, Philip dotted them all along his route, whenever he found a, postâ€"office. “My own Jessieâ€"My gracious childâ€"My darlâ€" ing,” they began, and were all heartâ€" break and tenderness, but slightly ro- lieved with sketches of travel as far as Calcutta, where they settler] down into “Dearest Jessie,” and so con‘ tinued at that aflectionate level. The pupils came little in contact with Jessie, and when they did, re- garded her with no sense of fellow- ship. As a parlorâ€"boarder and grown 11p young lady, they looked up to her, while the fact of her being en- gaged, and especially engaged to a fine young officer, invested her with all the glamour of romance. A letter from Philip created a flutter of pleasant exritement in the house; unlike the pupils’ letters, it was inâ€" violate; Miss Blushford actually darâ€" AA “h; _M,, "In everything, my sweet. girl,” re- turned Mir:s Blushford, pleased at. signs of gl‘aCe in her charge. After this Jessie read with more larder, but less candor.. She did not hesitate to deceive Miss Blushford by false covers to her books, most of which she kept in a hiding-place she had discovered under the roof-tiles opening from her bedroom. Here also she kept. a store of smuggled candles and matches, which she used to light her studies after her candle had been removed from her room. Was it not. lawful to conceal things from child- ren ‘7 Je,-sie argued; why, then, should a. grownâ€"up baby like Miss Blushiord, however amiable, know all that she did ? "May I never do anything because I liken? Must I only do What. men like me to do ?” JOSSlO asked. "Certainly, my dear," Miss Blushâ€" ford replied, with her little didactic air; "it. is unieminine to have strong likings. Gentlemen always know what is truly feminine and ladylike. Sweetness, submission, unselfishness me the chief quaitios required of females. Mr. Philip Randal justly observed in his last epistlc to me: 'I wish Miss Meade to read less and give more time to strictly feminine pursuits, such as needleâ€"work, danc- ing, housekeeping, and accomplishâ€" ments' "â€"such was Miss Blushford’s translation of Phlllv's re nest thn‘t Jessie should not he ma e to learn too much. "Gentlemen dislike blue- stockings. Ladies of superior at- tainments should always endeavor to conceal them, lest, they should be deemed unl‘eminine.” “I suppose, Miss Blushfordl” said Jessie, “that it matters nothing‘ what women think, the great pointl is what people think of them." "Quite so, my love." "Their conduct: should be entirely ruled by public opinion '2” continued Jessie, with a, curious glitter of her eyes. ‘do now ?" the family said, when anybody came to grief. But Jessie knew of Miss Blnsln‘ord only that she was ignorant, narrow, so she chafed against her yoke. as her own nature expundo'l. Aer the Byron ehismle. Miss I‘lushford beâ€" gan telling her pupil that it was unâ€" fomiztine as well as unladylike to read much; it was particularly un- ladylike to have strong feelings; more unladylike still to wish to bo inde- pendent nnd work for bread (which Jessie began to hint, she should like to (‘0). El‘hc Ruxian soldiers appear, 2 general rule, to lack the ability shift for themselves in matters transport.vand commissm‘ht. If glaborate system of baggage t ibreaks doWn, as it may well e11 d’er the strain of a hard Cami? It is hardly necessary to point out the value of this mental attitude as a. military asset. "Every one Within his reach be freely discusses, criticizes and blames; he half suspects that his Generals may be fools, and he is sure that his commissaries are rascals; but no thought of censure ever cmsses his mind against the Czar." p10 faith kneW!’ lTllC American military attache was mpressed by that quality. ‘ “When his battles result in defeats, When his biscuits are full of magâ€" gots. when his clothes are shabby, when his boots drop to pieces, the Bussian soldier,” he said, reasons it all out slowly and can only come to the conclusion. so pathetic in its Sim» p10 faith: 'Ah, if the Czar only v__..___J._... Now it is regarded as the regular thing in the Russian army for an ofâ€" ficer to have to spend money on his men to remedy official shortcomings. It is to be feared that graft has .a great deal to do with those shortâ€" comings. These defects are, however, largely ofl'sct by the patient endurance of the Russian soldier, born of his dogâ€" like "I owe everything to those men, and the least I can do is to spend a. few thousand rubles to help them in their need." That spirit animates most oflicers in the Russian army toâ€"day. Gen. Kom‘opatkin, Gen. Grodekofi and other famous Russian officers trained under Skohelcfi followed his example. When Skobclef.‘ .waé Braised for generosity toward his troops, he pjied unaf‘l‘ectedly: All the oflicie] arrangements for feeding the men and caring for the sick and wounded broke down utterâ€" ly, and Skobelef’f was always putting ‘his hand in his pocket, through that campaign. On one occasion he spent 15,000 rubbles to charter a steamer to take a. number of Wounded men to Odessa. for treatment. He never recovered from the Government the large sums he expended. He was a rich man, and every rubble he owned Was at the disposal of his beloved soldiers when they needed it. ipaign in order to remedy the defects ‘of the official transport and commis- sartat. They have been obliged to do so even during manoeuvres. The example was set by Skobeleff, Russia’s greatest General of modern times, during wnmn the six or eight days allowed. The system is a good one, but the transport and éommissariat broke down miserably in every important War waged by Russia. during the last century. The experience of the past indicates that the Cossacks are the ionly Russian soldiers who are mo- bile and well fed in a campaign. They are mobile because they always have large numbers of spare horsesâ€"often two for each man; they are well fed because of their skill in foraging. Russian oflicers spend freely out of their private funds during a cam- De accompanied by 2,400 wagons. When campaigning, the Russian soldier is supposed to carry two ‘days’ rations on his person. The reg- imental trains carry rations for each man for two days longer, and the divisional trains for hem five to four days. It is reckoned that. fresh supplies should always be obtainable from the surrounding country or along the line of communications within the six or dzht davs allowed test of the transport and conimissari- at systems of Russia. and Japan. By the Russian system an army corps of 45,900 men is supposed to be accompanied by 2,400 wagons. The War in the East is test of the transnnrf nmi SYSTEMS OF RUSSIA AND OF JAPAN COMPARED. Czar’s Soldiers Apt to Go Hungry â€"The Japanese Marching Order. FEEDING THE TWO ARMIES Jessie, in the conventuul seclusion of lxer school, where newspapers were rare, heard little of these things; she did not realize the au‘l‘ulness of the crisis; she had grown accustomed to war in the Crimean days, and feared comparatively little for Philip even when she knew him to be in the thick of the fighting. Had he not already tried the fortune of war ‘7 Ilut in those rare occasions when she mingled with the outside world, she was horrorâ€"struck at the way in which people talked of “those black devils," and one or two passionate expressions in Philip's letters made her shiver and hope they were but momentary ebullitions, caused by righteous indignation at the first hearing of such cruelties as will for- ever throw a mournful horror upon tie word Cawnpore. She did not inâ€"3 quire too closely into Indian details; she (la: ed not let her thoughts dwell upon Philip’s danger, any more than upon her parents? death; she deliber- ately lulled the emotional side of her nature to sleep, by continuous stren- uous mental occupation. Instinct told her that madness lay in feeling [To be Continued.) THE RUSSO-TURKISII WAR justly, and 10‘ mgul temI-I‘st LOYALTY TO‘ THE CZAR d loved mercy even in that affording a. If their 3 trains £19 1mâ€" his re- Probably one of the most. novel, as well as one of the most interest- ing features in factory operation, is now being practiced in several cities in Germany, where dynumos are be- ing driven by wind power. For sev- eral years past, iactorics‘ both at Hamburg and Leipsic, have been using this form of motive power. The power is generated by: windmills which have a (Ila-motor of about fif- teen feet, those. Del 1; mounted on the roofs oi the wor To insure :‘is reliability, {in}. wind wheel itself has no moving parts. line speed regula- tion being obtaincd by turning the windmill so as to vary the angle under which the wind sirikes upon the sails, which are built of steel sheets. This regulation is performed by a small auxiliary \vind‘ motor, and is said to be done so quickly and accuratc’ly that. the voltage of the dynamo rcnminos practically constant throughout the range of ordinary wind pressure. An auto- matic switch is arranged 5:0 that, as soon as the wind falls below a. certain point. the batter}: connected with the dynamo is cut out. This device is also being used in these districts men‘iioucd fm‘ tlu- purpose of generating electricity for light- ‘IDE. Several years ago a. military com- mission was appointed by the Mike;â€" do to ascertain why the physique o! the Japanese troops was inferior to that of the BriLish, German and othâ€" er countries. The commission came >to the conclusion that beef and beer helped to build up the stalwart frames of Occidental fighting men, and since then beef and beer have been included in the diet scale of the Japâ€" anese army. The Germ Several years mission was a}‘ do to ascertain the Japanese t It is commonly supposed that the Japanese soldier lives on rice and dried fish, Lut Shell is not the fact. He can live, and fight, well, on that spare diet, if ncccssai'y; but :he is given meat and other sustaining foods Whenever practicable, as well as beer or saki. People In the present campaign the Mika- Ido’s fighting" man is carrying a great deal more food with him than his {Russian adversary. Against the lat- ter’s two days’ rn‘tions he carries two cooked rations of rice in addition to six emergency rations. These are contained in an aluminum mess .pan, and as the rice has been boiled and dried in the sun, the entire weight is trifling. ' ] In the Tm‘coman kaxnpaigns in Cen- ‘tr'al Asia camels were employed, but they are hardly ever used to-da-y by lussian troops. Thousands of dogs are pressed into service,, mainly for transporting soldiers and supplies in sludges across Lake Baikal. . These measures were rendered neces- sary by the smallness and weakness of the Japanese horses, which lure about the scruwuicst animals of their kind. The Russians. on the con- trary, are well supplied with large, strong, ly charged to the regular troops. Solne of the Japanese commanders ‘adopted a short way with these ob-' m xious persons, driving them out: of the army on pain of death as soon as“ tlnir services were over. After the! war it was pretty generally agree't‘l‘1 tlxat’no’ similar nuisance should be tolerated in another campaign. of this system was that as the cam- paign advanced the armies became clogged by large numbers of cooliea and other camp followers, who creatâ€" ed a great deal of trouble and com- mitted excesses, which Were wrongqu Iy charged to the regular troops. They travelled in the lightest pos- sible order and picked up any old na- tive carts or mules or coones weyy chanced to meet, making tliem serve' the necessities of the moment, and thou letting them go and getting others further on. The Japanese, on the contrary, showed during their War with China. a remarkable ability to create their transport and cammissariat apparent- ly out of nothing as they went. (dong. They did not trouble much' about luggage trains, they had them. to be sure. We]! supplied and well or- ganized, but ‘the troops moved so quickly that they were out of touch" with their wagons half the time. ans, accustomed from boyhood W38 picking un their meals wherever and whenever they can {1nd them. they are utterly at n. lossâ€"unless they are Cossacks, Knlmucks or Turco â€" ans, accustomed from boyhood t WELL-B] { I?!) HORSES who 0 7nd THE ONLY DRAWDACK s mun m motn‘c r is gonc‘uted b}: \m a (Iiamr-tm‘ of 3% those being mour of the works. To i ', Um wind whet-‘1 -i1 ,g parts. the spend ; mbtainvd by wr y one of Un- mosc novel, 5 one 01‘ the most, interest- -s in factory operation, is ; practiced in sevch cities 1y, when: dynamics are beâ€" 1 by wind pow '. For sev- CTRIC POWER . 15 Obtaiz Windmills ulauon : xilim'y b0 dom lmt the ressurc. arranged wind fa! battery is cut 1 -im: used hi . have been )ti\'c power. bff windmills of about fif- nmuntcd on To insure :"(s «‘01 itself has Io angle kos upon t, of steel performed xd‘ motor, in quickly )ltage of It From words