The Model Millionaire Unlesss one is wealthy there is no good In being a charming fellow. Ro- mance is the privelege of the rich, not the profession of th2 unemployed. Toe poor should be practical and pro- giic. It sbetter to have a perma not income than to be fascinating, Taese are the great truths of modern life which Hughie Erskine never real’ ized. Poor Hughie! Intelectually, we must admit he was not of much im- fiance. He never said either a brilliant or ill-oatured thing in his life. But he was wonderfully good- looking, with his crisp brown hair, his clear-cut profile, and his gray eyes, He was as popular with men as he was wi'h women, and he bad every accomplishment except that of making money. His father had be- queathed him bis cavalry sword and a History of the Peninsular War, in fifieen volumns. Hughie hung the first over his looking glass, put the second on a shelf between Rufl's Guide and Baily's magazine, and liv- ed on two hundred a year that an old sunt allowed him. He had tried everything. He had gone on the Stock Exchange for six months ; but was & butterfly to do among bulls and bears; He had been a tea merchant for a little longer, but had soon tired of Pekoe and Souckong. Then be tried selling dry sherry. That did not answer. Ultimately he became nothing, a delightful ineffecual young man with a perfect profile and no profession. To make matters worse, he was in love. The girl he loved was Laura Merton. the daughter of a retired colonel who had lost his temper sod his digestion in India, and bad never found either of them again. Laars adored him, andbe was ready to kiss her shoestrings. They were the handsomest couple in London, sad bad not a penny piece between them: The Colonel was very fond of Hughie, but would hear of no engagement. Come to me my boy when you bave got £10,000 of your own, and we will see about it, he used to say; and Hughie looked very glum on those days and bad gone to Laura for con solation. One morning as he was on his way to Holland Park where the Mertons lived, he dropped in to see a great friend of his, Alan Trevor. Trevor was a painter, Indeed, few people escape that nowadays. Bat he was also an artist, and artists are rare. Personally he was a strange rough fellow, with freckeled face and red hair. However; when he took up the brush he was 8 real master, and his pictures were eagerly sought after He had been very much attracted by Hughie, at first, it must be acknowl” ed, entirely on account of his good looks, The only people a painter should know, he used to say are peo ple who are bete and beautiful, people who are an artistic pleasure to look at and an intellectual repose to talk to. Dandies and darlings rule the world ! However after he got to xnow Hughie better, he liked him quite as much for his bright, buoyant spirit and his generous, reckless nature, and had given him the permanent entree lo his studio. When Hughie came in he tound Trevor putting the finishing toaches to a wonderful life-size picture of & beggar man. The begger himself was standing on a raised platform in the corner of the studio. He was as wizened old man, with a face like wrinkled parchment, and piteous ex- pression. Over his shoulders was flung a course brown cloak, all tears and tattered ; his thick boots were patch- ed and cobbled, and with one hand he leaned on = rough stick, while with the other he held out his battered hat for alms, What smazing model! whispered i as'hé shook hadds with his i nioder ? shouted Tre- vor at the top of his voice : T should think so! Buch beggars as he are not, Lo be met with every day. stars] what sa etching Rembreudt would have made of him! Poor old chap! said Hughie, “how miserable he looks! _ Bat Twn Aud how much do you get for your picture, Alvin. 0, for this I get a thousand. Pounds? Guineas. Painters, poets, and physcians always get guineas, Well I think the model should have a percentage, said Hughie, laughing ; they work quite as hard as you do. Nonsense nonsense | Why, look at the trouble of lying on the paint alone, and standing all day long at one's easel ! It's all very well. Hughie, for to talk, but, I assure you that there are moments when art ap proaches the dignity of labor. But you mustn't chatter : I'm very busy. Smoke a cigarette, and keep quiet. After some time the servant came in, and told Trevor that the frame maker wanted to speak to him, Don't run away, Hughie, he said: as be went out. I will be back ina moment, The old beggar man took advani- age of Trevor's absence to rest for a moment on a wooden bench that was behind bim. He looked so forlorn and wretched that Hughie could not help pitying him, and be felt in his pockets to see what money he had. All be could find was a sovereign and some coppers. “Poor uld fellow,” he thought to himself, “he wants it more than I do, but it means no hansoms for a fortnight,” and he walked across the studio and slipped the sovereign into the beggar’s hand. The old man started, and a faint smile flitted across his withered lips. “Thank you, sir,” he said, in a for eign accent. Then Trevor arrived, and Hughie took his leave, blushing a little at what he had done. He spent the day with Laura, got a charming scolding for his extravagance, and had to walk home. That night be strolled into the Palette Club about 11 o'cloex, and found Trevor sitting by himself io the smoking room. Well, Alan, did you get the picture finished all right ? he said, as he lit his cigarette. Finished and framed my boy ! an- swered Trevor; and by the by, you have made a conquest. That old model you saw is quite devoted to you. I had to tell him all about you —who you are, where you live, what your income is, what prospects you bave— My dear Alan cried Hughie, Ishall probably fiad him waitiog for me when I go home. But of course you are only jokiog. Poor old beggar! I wish I could do something for him, I think it is dreadful that sny ore should be so misersole. I have got heaps of old clothes at home—do you think he would care for any of them ? Why, his rags are falling to bits. But be looks splendid in them, said Trevor. I wouldn't paint him in a frock coat for soything. What you call rags I call romance. What seems poverty to you is picturesque- ness to me. However, I'll tell him of your offer. Alan, said Hughie seriously, you painters are a heartless lot. An artist's heart is his bead, replied Trevor; and besides, our business is to realize the world as we see it, not to reform it as we know it. And now tell me how Laura is. The old model was quite interested in ber, You don’t mean to say you talked to him about her ? said Hughie. Certalnly I did. He knows all shout the relentless Colonel, the love- ly damsel, and the £10,000, You told that old beggar all my private affairs 7 crivd Hughie. look- ing very red and angry. My dear boy, said Trevor, smiling, that old beggar, as you call him is one of the richest men in Europe. He could buy all London to-morrow with- out overdrawing bis account, He bas a house in every capital, dines off gold plates, and can prevent Russia going to war when he chooses. My lk What on earth do you mean ? ex claimed Hughie. What 1 say, said Trevor, The old berg. Hosa great friend of mine, | bays ll ay pietures and tha sors of | Good heavens ! I gave him a sovereign! snd he savk into as armchair the picture of dismay. Gave him a sovereign ! shouted Trevor and he burst into a roar of laughter. My dear boy, you'll never seo it again, I think you might have told me, Alan, said Hughie sulkily, aod not let me make such a fool of myself. Well, to begin with, Hughie, said Trevor, it pever entered my mind that you went aoout distribating al ms in that reckless way. I can under- stand your kissing a pretty model, but your giving a sovereign to an ugly one—by Jove, no! Besides, the tact is that I really was not at home to- day to anyone; and when you came in I dido't know whether Hausberg would like his name mentioned. You know he wasn’t in full dress. What a duffer he mast think me! said Hughie. Notat all. He was io the highest spirits after you lefi; kept chuckling to himself and rubbiog his old wrink- led hands together. I conldn’t make out why he was so interested to know all about vou; but I see it all now. He'll invest your sovereign for you, Hughie, pay you the interest every six month, and have a capital story to tell after dinoer. I am so unlocky chap, growled Haoghie. The best thing I can do is to go to bed; and my dear Alan, you musn’t teil anyone. I shouldn't dare to show my face in the Row, Nonsense !| Ii reflects the highest credit on your philanthropic spirit, Hughie, and don't ran away. ' Have another cigarette, and you can talk about Laura as much as you like. However, Hughie wouldn't stop, bat walked home, feeling very unhap- py, sod leaving Alsa Trevor in fits of laughter. The next morning, as he was at breakfast, the servant brought him up a card, on which was written. Mon" sieur Gustave Naudin, de la part de M. le Baron Hausberg. I suppose be has come for an apology, said Hughie to himself; and he wid the servant to show the visitor up. An old gentleman with gold spec- tacles and gray hair came into the room, sou said, in a slight Freoch ac- cent, Have I the honor of addressing Monsieur Hugh Erhskine ? Hughie bowed. I baye come from Baron Hausberg, he continued. The Baron— I beg, sir, that you will offer him my sincere apologies, said Hughie. The Baron, said the old gentleman, with a smile, has commissioned me to bring yoo this letter; and he banded Hughie a sealed envelope. Ou the outside was written: A welding-presest to Hugh Erksine aod Laos Merton, from an old beg- gir, ap " was a check for £10, On, ] When they were married Alan Tre vor was the best man, and the Baron made 8 speech at the wedding break- fast, Miitiooaire models, said Alan, are rare enough; but, by Jove, model millionaires are rarer still |—London World. -> “AUNTIR." 1 Not long ago Mark Twain was traveling in the country, and stopping one evening at a house presided over by an elderly woman, he was shown to a room some-what bare of orna ment and furniture and yet slept peaceful until morning. When mor- ning came and he arose, he became mindfull of the fact that although he provided himself with a toot brush, he had forgotten bis powder. 4 He bad consoled himself with the ides that there must be tooth-powder some” where. After a briefsearch he die- covered somethiog in a small box on the mantle which Seftainly resembled tooth-powder, At any rate, he used it vigorously on Lis teeth and it was TN When be got down stairs he apologized to his hostess for using ber tooth powder. She pis ur prised. What oth pode! she anid blaadly, A 76 wha the mnntely Mack replied: "On the mantle! she repented. Yea, in a small horny. was ego p hay: LATIMER'S FLIRTATION, Fred, said Tom Latimer to me as we sat over a late breakfast at the Mohican House, Spring Lake, I met the most beautiful, delightful, superb girl on the beach to-day. Bhe's with a funny old woman in a wig, with false teeth and painted face, And how did you get an introduce tion to the paragon ! I ventured to ask him, Well, I was just going to tell you. I saw this divinity seated on the sand reading a volume of poetry, as charm- ing as you please. Near her was a very fat poodle. Bulky-looking beast with the asthma, Well, as soon as my setter, Jack, saw this canine monstrosity he made a break for it, and they had a catch-ascateh-can wrestling match right then and there on the sand. It would have been all up with that poodle in about a minute if I hadn't started in and separated them. All this time the angel was screaming at the top of her lungs and tying to get her dog away. I finally rescued the beggar and gave him to her, and so struck up an sequaintance. Her name is Bertha Selden apd— And how about Goldine Haughton? I asked, referring to 8 young lady he had beeu paying marked attention to all summer, and whom it was com- monly believed by the boarders in the botel that he intended to warry. From that time forth Tom Lati- mer was & constant attendant on Bertha Selden, and though I koew too well that be was an arrant flirt, it looxed as if this time he was hard hit. You see, he said to me, though my father is fool enough to contemplate marrying again at his time of life I'm quite independent, and as I'm tolera bly sure she lixes me, you may expect an invitation to my wedding before long; and he swagger- ed off, looking lixe a handsome, con- fident puppy ss he was. There | the fellow provoked me, though I was glad be really intended marrying the pretty, blue-eyed child, and not jilt ber as be had half a score of others. The very same day who should ar. rive at our hotel but Latimef pere - a bale, handssme man of middle age and an old sequaintacce of mine. We dined together in private, and while Tom sipped his wine in silence, we elders gossiped of the place, the peo- ple sod the cooxing, though more than once I fancied that cheerful Mr. Latimer was more distrait than usual and several times I noticed that he cast anxious glancesat Tom's thought. fal countenance. By-the-way, be said, after the waiter bad placed the desert and finally withdrawn, neither of you has inquir- od my business here. He looked at Tom, and Tom, rous- ing himself, looked at him. Well, sir, said that young gentle man, people don’t come to Newport on business, at least not generally, so it didn't strixe me to inquire. Well, my boy, said the elder gentle- man, Isaghiog, I'll give you the in- formation gratuiously; I have come down for a day to see the lady I'm about to marry—Miss Selden—you have probably met her. Tom and I stared at his father in unmitigated surprise, and Tom ejacu- lated : I say, father you're not in earnest, you xnow ? Of course I am, replied Mr. Lati- mer, rising and laughing, sod I'm off now to pay my respects, Come over In the course of the evening, both of you; and while Tom stared blankly after him he went away. Tom looked at me and I looked at him. Tom thrust his bands through his yellow curls, and then into his trousers pockets and then whistled. I whistled, Such a man asthat to marry a brown front and a set of false teeth, ejaculated Tom, Jovel sir, I'm struck dumb Lin proof of which he became slightly profane, I do not approve of siroog lan (guage; I do of hock ; so to imwelate wo iain with the same stone, I In any case, let us drinkbior health; | after which cheerful reviguntion came to Tom, and be was guvlRmoughisn d Tol | bs p ARLE hh Well, after ll, it will be pleassater | I I I tell you what, said Tom, ss later in the evening we ascended to the drawing room of the bride elect aud her lovely niece, I'll get Berths out for a stroll this lovely moonlight night, and as sure as fate I'll propose; It’s just the evening for that kind of thing, especially with those tender, blue-eyed things. I say! hadn't we better knock lest we might interrupi the love making. But I bad opened the door, and there was nothing for it but to ad- vance. The room was but dimly lighted, yet sufficiently to show Miss Seldin the aunt, seated in a distant armchair, spectacles on nose, the paper ¢he had been perusing fallen on ber lap, while a gentle sound, like the snore of a fay, proclaimed that she wus wrapped in slumber, as was also the poodle lying by her feet. Close to the pisno stood Mr. Lati- mer, bending tenderly over a litle sylph in whitetulle, whose bright bair floated over his black coatslecve, and whose white fingers were shyly twist. ing one of the buttons of said coat— Bertha, in fact, They start us the door opesed, and Bertha would have sprung away, but his encircling arm detained her, Here Tom! he ealled out, come and pay your respects to your future step- mother. She's but a little body, but no deubt she'll make you a good one ! Good evening, Tom, said Bertha, | smiling, half shyly. Why didn't you | tell me before you were going to be my stepson?! You sre so pice and kind, I love you already, and I'm | regards me as a fraod, Eleetrician atirsied my atlention : “If w thin piece of zine be placed on one side of the gum sud u suver coin ou the ober side, with the aching tooth between them, wud shen the edges of the metals brought toget her, 8 week galvanic current will be estab- lished that will cure the pain. 1 im- mediately gathered up my wife's wishboard, aod cut a piece of zine from it. She made s vigorous pro- test, but when a man hasa tooth in his mouth that is dissatisfied with the matagement of affairs troubles are as naught, taining the zioe the next thing was to get the coin. A thorough investi. gation of my smels failed to reveal even a ten cout piece, 80 I went out and borrowed that amount from a friend. In my bu.ry I laid the piece of zine where 1 could vot find it again. [ cut another piece from the crippled washboard, the tooth rigidly adhering Ww the ache my wife had to be done, nnd that something I heroically attempted to do, his other A fter ob. business, and protesting, but something the zine snd coin as directed, I let them touch below the tooth, crickets ! A thousand tosthachss at once! It was over in a second, and the tooth no longer ached; but the dime—oh, where was he? Half way dows my throat and marching on. | had promised to return the dime in half an hour, but under the circumstances it was impossible, and my friend now Placing Ji miny Hang those new fangled remedies, anyhow ! FOOD FOR THOUGHT. sure we'll get on so well together ! Nice and kind ! Ob, Tom! my poor friend ! The last time 1 heard of Tom, he | | was safely landed by the skillful and why, old boy, | indefatigable Godive, and they were spending the honeymoon in Paris. AI —— i ARCTIC INDUSTRIES. It may not be generally known that | important mining operations is carried | on within the Arctic Circle. Cryolite | js brought from Greenland to Phils | delphbis by the ship load t0 be used | in the making of candles, At Alten, | near the North Cape in Fiomark ex- tensive copper mines have been work- ed for a long time, When it is re membered that most of the work bas to be done under ground, and that heat is what the workmen suffer most from, it becomes apparent at once that mines may be almost as profit able io those high latitudes as they would be on our coast. The main thing is to have communication open once a year for bringing supplies and carrying away the ores, st Alten a few years ago, to study the condition in which they were worked found that the climate interposed no obstacle. The mines, when fairly summer, In such work as has to be done above ground, there is scarcely any interruption. During the dark months | when the sun does not shine, there is | ed to the conditions. The sky is | clear and starry, and the aurora is | snow increases and intensifies. More thau a hundred and fifty years ago mining was carried on extensive ly about the shores of the White Sea by Saxon workmen. Silver, copper, and lead were produced in quantities. Now that the whale fishery has de- clined, mining enterprise seems 00st likely of anything to promote explor- ation and settlement within the Arctic Circle.~ Youth's Companion. TOOTHACHE REMEDY. I always did have a scientific turn. Ho does the implement which imparts the circular motion to » grind, though I am unable to say which Is the great. er sucoss as a crank. Among other symptoms of genius which are rapid. ly developing in nie, 1’ véeasionally wrap myself in impenetrable “gloom le with a redundant ahd | even with his enemy, An engineer who visited the mines | deep, are warmer in winter than in| no lack of light to the eye accustom. | | playing most of the time, whatever | light there is, the reflection from the and other wearing apparel, and writ: By taking revenge a man Is but but in passing it he is superior, Help somebody worse off than yourself, and you will find you are better off than you fancied. Every man who observes vigilant ly, and resolves steadfastly, grows un- consciously into genius. The reflections of a day well spent |farpish us with joys more pleasing | than ten thousand triumphs. The men who do things naturally, | slowly, deliberately, are the men who oftenest succeed in life. A man who studieth revenge keep- eth his own wounds green, which oth- erwise would heal and do well. The infinitely greatest confessed good is veglected to satisfy the suo- cessive uneasioess of our desires pur- suing trifles, The love of reading enables a man to exchange the wearisome hours of life, which come to every one, for hours of delight. True glory takes root sad even spreads ; all false pretense, like flow- { ers, fall to the ground ; nor can any counterfeit last long. To rejoice in another's prosperity is % give content to your own lot; to mitigate another's grief is to alleviate or dispel your own. We seldom condemn mankind till they have injured us, and when they ‘have, we seldom do anythiog but de- | test them for the injury. It may serve as a comfort to us all | in our calamities and affliction, that | he that losses anything and gets wis- | dom by it is a gainer by the los. He that waits for repentance waits for that which cannot be as long as it is waited for. It is absurd for a man to wait for that which be himself has to do. None are 80 fond of secrets as those who do not mean to keep them ; such persons covet secrets as a spendthrift does money, for the purpose of circu- lation. What we employ is charita- ble uses during our lives as given away from ourselves ; what we bequeth at our death is given from others only, as our nearest relations, A good man is the best friend, and theretore is first to be chosen, longest to be pared with, unless he ceces to be that for which he was chosen. wa Co ———— A wT xB pine -We are now pared 16 do wll Lunds of book’ Ninding yp vy snd wil pumrantee | work, Send ah Ju books, piper 1pagiting, >a ind have hein boon d & a § -
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