THE CLIMBER. How should hp know, who hath not won Sure victories from Hun to sun— How ciin bo know, who hnth not triod The peril of the mountain-side. What strength of arm is his—wh»t zeal In combat with the brave to deal'! What prowess and what skill he hath To Had his footing on the path— To cling, and eling, and always keep His hold of faith along the steep? Who tries is aso triod. Who dares To scale the heights, their danger shares. J3ut on the cliff's uneven face Mo finds eaeh day a higher plane His strength expands: he thrills to know How broad the breathing-places grow; And every hour some gain is found. Home view from wider vantage-ground. —Frank Walcott Hutt, in The Chautau quan. 4 -THE- > 3 BISHOP'S BEHAVIOR. I ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼-WW' W ▼ ▼ ▼ NT It has been announced in several of the best-read society papers that Sir Archibald and Lady Crowley would entertain a house party on Saturday, the Cth, till the following Thursday at Crowley hall. Berkshire. Amon:; the guests would be Lord and Lady de Rigger, the bishop of Barleyshire, Miss Harbeton of the Poplars, Hanip stead, and other distinguished people. Miss Harbeton liked these para graphs. She had been undistinguished all her life until six months ago, when sho had gained celebrity by inheriting a large fortune and a quantity of fa mously valuable jewelry from an un cle. But she was of an aspiring turn of mind, and when she heard from her friend, Lady Crowley, that the "charm ing bachelor-bishop of Barleyshirs would be her fellow-guest," she re solved to wear all her diamonds at him and beguile him into letting her rule his diocese as his lawful spouse. She was rather a fine looking wom an —as she stood on the platform look ing for a nicely peopled carriage in which to travel down to the Gunter's Road Junction. Her maid was already settled in a second class carriage with her mis tress' dressing case, but the jewel box, containing .220,000 worth of diamonds and pink pearls, she took into an emp ty first class with her, when finally the ringing of the bell compelled her to make her choice. The door was slammed and locked, but just at the starting a bishop with faultless legs rushed up. put a shill ing in the guard's hand and stepped hurriedly into the carriage where the single lady sat. He was a fine looking man, clean shaven and with a remarkably open and benevolent expression of face. Younger, too, than Miss Harbeton ha/' dared to hope the bishop woitl 1 be. She had no doubt of it from the first. He must be. he could be, none other than the bishop of Barleyshire. Lady Crowley was right. Distinctly he was charming, very charming. She came to this decision even be fore he addressed her; but he was not long in doing this. In courteous tones he inquired if she could tell him when this train would reach Guntc's Road. She blushed with pleasure as she told iiim the time, and added that she, too, was going to stop at Gunter's Road to change for Crowley. His pleasure at hearing this was flattering and unfeigned. "That capital fellow. Crowley, and his charming wife will be astonished to find we have made each other's ac quaintance, for when 1 last saw him we were speaking of you and I had to confess that I had not the pleasure of knowing you," he said gallantly, and Miss Harbeton's eyes danced with pleasure as she mentally decided on her wedding dress and resolved that she would keep the wives of the coitn cry and city clergy in their proper places and only know the cathedral peopie. He was really a fascinating compan <on. "I am quite at home in the house," tie said. "Crowley and I were at Eton Mid Oxford together. We're like brothers. He has shown me a thou sand kindnesses and this, of asking tnc to meet you, is the crowning one." "Dear man! I shouldn't wonder if ne proposed to me before I leave on Thursday," Miss Haberton thought, and as she thought it she took off ner right hand glove, on which blazed two or three superb diamond rings. Sho was not in the habit of display ing her jewelry as a rule, but on this occasion she wished her fellow-travel er to become acquainted with some of her splendor. "That's a nobby ring," he exclaimed fixing, his eyes on the finest with un erring discrimination, and though Miss Haberton was rather startled at hearing such an odd phrase from Epis copal lips, she was gratified at his judgment. "They are rather fine stones," she said, drawing a huge marquise ring off her finger and handing it to him for inspection. "My poor uncle, from whom I inherited my diamonds, was a great connoisseur. But I suppose you care little about such baubles." Ho laughed and if he had not been e bishop sho could have sworn he winked. As it was, she attributed the movement to a nervous affection. "I admire jewelry, especially old fashioned jewelry, immensely," he raid, slipping the ring onto one of his fingers, and examining it criti cally. "My cloth prevents my ever wearing it,"he went on, seriously, "but I have acquired a good deal in my time and parted with it to a rela tion." Her heart throbbed with exultatloa as she saw her ring on his finger. Slia hoped he would forget to remove it until they reached Crowley. His being; seen with her ring on would show the Crowleys at once what intimate terms she and the bishop were on already. Perhaps Lady Crowley would make her lordship take her (Miss Haberton) into dinner that night, when she would give him an opportunity of studying more of her diamonds. They had unbent towards each other immensely by the time they had reached uunter's Road. He had smoked a cigarette and face tiously offered her one. If she had not feared that it would make her sick she would have taken it. At Gunter's Road they had to change trains. The bishop was delightfully attentive. He spiting out, assisted her to step onto the platform with tender solicitude, pressing her hand warmly the while. Really he was going very fast for a bishop. He relieved her of the weight of her jewel box as they stood waiting for their train to run in. When it came he started off to look for a carriage, having first given her the whispered assurance that he would bribe the guard to give them an empty one. "I hope Crawley will have sent the dog cart," he added; "then I shall have the pleasure of driving you my self. Will you trust yourself to my care?" "Gladly, gladly," she said with ef fusion, and a brief spasm of emotion convulsed his manly, ingenuous coun tenance for a moment. The little platform was very much crowded and as lie walked along in search of an empty first class carriage Miss Harbeton soon lost sight of him. But she felt a good deal of elation m the thought that he was putting him self very much indeed at her disposal, carrying her jewel box and trying io keep her all to himself for the re maining short bit of the journey. Presently his man servant ran tip to her with a request that she would get into a carriage ho pointed out to her, and as she hesitated he explained respectfully: "His lordship told me to say that he would be with you in a few mo ments." She held her head higher than ever. | Even his servant must notice how hard hit the bishop must be by her. She experienced a terrible shock when the train, after an abrupt snort j and shriek, went off without the bish- j op having rejoined her. Poor, dear j man. He must have miscalculated the time and had been driven into another carriage at the last moment. How disappointed he would be at having been deprived of her society. There was no bishop at the Crowley station, but there was a good deal of confusion and Miss Harbeton was hur ried into a close carriage before she had time to make inquiries about her fellow-passenger. She reached Crowley hall just in time for dinner. When she was ready she sent a note to her hostess asking if the bishop had arrived and if he had would Lady Crowley kindly re quest him to send Miss Harbeton's jewel box to her room The answer that came back nearly made her faint. "The bishop thinks you must be jok ing, as he never heard of you or your ; jewel box before." "The bishop's behavior is unpardon- j able," she cried angrily, as soon as she met Lady Crowley. "He traveled down with me, was marked in his attentions and took away my jewel box when he went away to look for an empty car riage at Gunter's Road that we might travel alone together." "The bishop, dear old man, has nev er left the house today," Lady Crow ley was explaining, "but here he is to answer for himself," she went on, as an elderly, wizened up little man came into the room. "I have been cheated and robbed," Miss Harbeton cried; and she was right, for she never saw either her fellow traveler or her jewel box again. —Waverley Magazine. Too Many World** Fair*. Tho industrial exposition is fast be coming an overgrown country fair, a catch-penny spectacle without dig nity or value as a record of human progress. What is needed to restore it to its real dignity and usefulness is to give it a needed rest. Let suffi cient time elapse for some progress to show between them. Wait for a really important occasion and then make the exposition a feature of its celebration, not the occasion an ex cuse for an exposition. Let it be got ten up under public auspices, as a public event, not by private specula tors as a money-making proposition. Fill the spaces with the representa tive products and apparatus of tho world, in process of operation: let somebody who knows and is hold enough to determine which is the most worthy in the various depart ments and crown it so that the grand prize or the gold medal shall mean something. This would put several professional projectors and a quantity of peddlers and showmen out of a job, but it would make an exposition moan something.—Power. Trolley Linn*. Interurban trolley lines, with fa cilities for carrying both passengers and freight, are gaining a strong hold in many states. Detroit and Pittsburg will soon have electric railway con nection by way of Cleveland, which will povide 375 miles of road under one management. New York state has been a little tardy in its trolley connections, but it is predicted that soon one will he able to travel from New York City to Buffalo by trorrey. —Springfield Republican I jgHElfraft I i»r» if""— "*"""■' " < Wtlfr-"^Bte.'ii.'«3^l New York City.—Tasteful, comfort able breakfast or morning jackets are essential to every woman of taste. The novel May Manton design illus- BREAKFAST JACKET. trated combines all the essential fea tures, is loose enough tor comfort, yet graceful and becoming. The original is made of India silk showing blue figures on a white ground; but wash able materials and soft, simple wool en fabrics are equally appropriate. The full fronts and back are simply gathered and joined to a square yoke of lining or 1o the fitted lining that extends to the waist. The deep yoke shaped in effective scallops is included with the box pleat that closes the fronts, but the lower edges may be finished free with bolero effect or stitched over the gathers if so pre ferred. The fulness is gathered at the waist line in back and a ribbon FANCY WAIST AND TUCKED SKIRT. ■ - - - , passing arounil the waist confines the fulness in front. The sleeves are hi bishop shape, but finished with turn-over Hare cuffs. At the neck is a turn over collar that is high enough for style yet soft and eminently satisfactory to the wearer. To cut this jacket for a woman of medium size four yards of material twenty-two inches wide, two and three-quarter yards thirty-two inches wide or two and one-eight yards forty four inches wide will be required. A Charming Costume. Combinations of tucked with plain material, of cream lace and white fabrics, are in tlio height of style and appear to gain favor week by week. The very charming May Manton ex ample Illustrated in the large draw ing shows tine batiste with cream Cluny lace, the insertion run with narrow black velvet ribbon: but the design is equally well suited to vari ous other materials. The foundation is snug fitting and closes at the centre front. When a diaphanous effect is desired it is well lo make it of the material or of nious seline. The yoke front and sleeves are of tucked material. The back yoke is faced onto the lining, but the front, is separate and closes at the left shoulder and beneath the fronts prop er. The blouse is plain at the upper portion with scant fulness in back and gathers at the waist line in front. The fronts part slightly at the centre and turn back to form pointed revers. Tile sleeves can be in elbow or full length as preferred. The neck is lin islied with a stock that should lie lined only with the material and stiffened with wire to lie in the latest style. It closes with tile yoke fastened at tlie left shoulder. To cut this waist for a woman of medium size, one and seven-eight yards of material twenty-one inches wide, or one yard thirty-two or forty four inches wide, with one and three quarter yards of tucking for yoke, front and sleeves, three and five eight yards of insertion and one yard of edging to trim as illustrated. To make with sleeves of plain material, three and a quarter yards twenty-one Inches wide, one and three-quarter yards thirty-two inches wide, or one and a half yards forty-four inches wide, with three-quarter yards of tucking for yoke and front will be re quired. The eminently smart skirt illustrat ed shows a novel arrangement and one that is admirably suited to the soft clinging wool and silk materials now in vogue as well as to the in numerable washable fabrics offered The skirt is cut In seven pieces and is laid in three narrow tucks at each front and side seam, the fulness at the back being laid in an inverted pleat. The flounce is tucked at the upper edge, but falls in graceful folds as it approaches the floor. To cut this skirt for a woman of medium size, eleven and three-eight yards of material twenty-one inches wide, eight yards thirty-two inches wide, or five and three-quarter yards forty-four inches wide will be re quired, with ten yards of applique, and lace squares according to size to trim as illustrated. Mink Cape For the Duch«M, The women of Ottawa are to pre sent to the Duchess of York upon the occasion of the royal visit to the capi tal a gift that is thoroughly typical of Canada. It is a cape of the finest mink procurable. The collar and flare around the edges will be lined with ermine, while the body of the cape will be lined with white satin. The garment, which reaches to the knee, is fastened with gold clasps fashioned in 1 lie form of a tnaple leaf, the em lilem of the Dominion. The gold for these clasps comes from the Canadian Yukon. A Tint Much Worn. Apricot, a soft and generally nr* coming tint, is much worn lu Paris and in combination with creamy lace and a touch of black velvet it is ex ceedingly effective. Favorite Color Combinations. Black and pale blue is a combina tion that this season has divided fav or with the ever popular black and white. Woman's Walking Skirt. The smart, well cut walking skirt that comfortably clears the ground lias become a necessity and makes part of every wardrobe. This grace ful, becoming model is the very latest May Manton that has appeared and includes many desirable features. The back is cut with the new ripple that falls in graceful folds from a few inches below the belt, and the flounce means both flare and freedom. The original is made of homespun In mixed shades of brown and tan, but all checks, cheviots and skirting ma terials are appropriate. The skirt is cut in five gores the side gores being narrow and is with out fulness at the belt. The flounce is graduated in width and is seamed to tlie lower edge. At the right side is placed a patch pocket with a turn over flap. To cut this skirt for a woman of medium size six and onc-eiglit yards WALKING SKIRT. of material twenty-seven inches wide, three and seven-eight yards forty-four inches wide or three and three-eight yards fifty inches wide will be re quired. How's Anynno to Know? Ttao little blue jean overalls, Two struw hats, 'mazing wide. Two rakes, two hoes, two utioveis, Two gardens Hide by wide. Two little strangers, coy at llrst, At last quite frieudly-wlse. A little conversation. And a pretty big surprise. '•What's your name, little boy?" they ask Each of the other, shy. "Ale i Why, I'm just a little girl "You are? Why. so am 1!" —Youth's Companion. Memento of Alfred the drent. Wiltshire Downs is a tract of fairly level land in Kngland. As you stand on an elevation and look across the country your eye catches the form of a gigantic white horse upon the side, of a hill beyond the valley. It is a figure cut in the rock in the side of the Downs, and is 175 feet long from the head to the tail. It is believed to have been made in the time of King Alfred, who died 1000 years ago. The figure is rather crude but when seen at a distances the outline of a horse is very distinct. Just above the fig ure, on top ot' the hill are the rgmains of an old camp. A Little (ion*p. One day Willie called Dot "a little goose." That was because she didn't goto school, only to kindergarten, and couldn't read, like her primary school brother of six. Tom spoke up at that. "Will," said he, "a papa goose is a gander ,a mam ma goose is a —well, just a goose, but a little goose is a gosling. Dot is not a goose; she's a dear little gosling, aren t you, Dot?" "I don't know," said Dot, doubtful ly. Then, says the writer in Little Folks, who is telling the story, 1 told them the famous goose story that has oeen told to children lor more than 2000 years; how nearly 400 years before the first Christmas, shaggy, yellow haired Gauls swept clown like a north wind into Italy and captured Rome, all hut the Capitol hill; how one night the Roman guard fell asleep, and the Gauls climbed up, up, up to the very top; how just then the goddess Juno's sacred geese, kept there by the temple, heard them, and flapped their great wings, and hissed and honkeu; and how Marcus Manli us heard the geese, and seized his arms, and ran to the edge of the cliff just in time to push backward the top most. Gaul. "And so," said I, "the geese saved Rome." "Then, too," I went on, "if geese are not wise enough to read, like Mas ter Wiil, they knew something about our alphabet long before men did, for the flying wild geese have always shaped their flocks into As and Vs. And if they don't know how to make all the letters, they have helped men write all the letters." "Why, how could they?" asked Dot. 'Oh," said I, laughing, "they gave their big wing feathers to men, and men cut the ends into pans; and everybody, for centuries before steel pens were made, wrote with quill pens. Little children in school wrote with goose quills; and, when the points were scratchy, Ihey raised their hands and fa id, 'Please teacher, sharpen my pen.' And the teacher would take her pen knife and cut new points. That's how little jackknives came to be called penknives." A Lost Scolding. One morning Benjy happened to reach the schoolhouse very early. The place was as still as a meeting house in the middle of the week. Benjy was not afraid exactly, but he felt rather lonesome and timid; for the little white school house was hidden from the village by a grove. To keep up his spirits Benjy began to play ball by himself. The ball he pulled from his pocket was a great wonder to all the school children. It was of rubber, almost as ltght as a soap bubble and was a beautiful bright red in color. Such a ball had never been seen among the Sharon boys until this came to Benjy from a cousin in the city. He began by tossing and catching it, then he made it bound on the hard, smooth ground, but it was rattier stu pid to be plajing alone. Then he tried to make the schoolhouse help him in his fun; and he threw the ball against the wall and up on the roof, catching it as it bounded back. This was much livelier- and he had entire ly forgotten to feel lonesome, when the ball suddenly disappeared. There was a soft little thud inside the school room, then a crash that in the quiet place sounded to Benjy as loud as a peal of thunder. One of the window s was down a few inches from the top. and the little red ball had found its way through the narrow opening. Benjy's first fear was that he had lost his ball, and then that some dam age had been done in the schoolroom wondered what could have mad? the noise that had seemed so loud. He Mood on tiptoe and pteped in through a window. On the teacher's desk was a vase lying on its side. The flowers that had been in it were scattered about pnd the water was trickling in among the neatly piled book's. Benjy was really frightened now. He tried the door but it was fastened; and he was too small a boy to climb in through a window. He thought of running home, to get out of sight ol the mischief he had done: for how could he face the scolding that woulj come? But no one had seen him throw the ball. Perhaps Miss Berry would never find out who it was. Then the boy shut his hands together into two tight little fists and ran down the road toward the village as fast as his feet would carry him. He met two or three boys going to school, but he did not stop when they shouted. Miss Berry was shutting the gate behind her when a breathless little boy almost tumbled against her, cry ing: "O, teacher. I spilled water all over your desk. Please hurry, and perhaps the books won't be spoiled." When 3he learned what had hap pened, she hurried onto rescue th s books, leaving Benjy to follow more slowly. She had not scolded. "But she will, when she has seen the books and has time to tend to me," he tiiought ruefully. As he entered the schoolroom there was quite a group about the desk, watching Miss Berry wiping off her looks and putting them on a window sill to dry in the sunshine. "I know who did it," a little girl (•ailed out, suddenly, diving into a corner whore she had caugi't sight of the blight ball. "This is Benjy Adams' ball, and he threw it in the window and tipped the vase over." She was triumphant over her dis covery; but Miss Berry smiled at Ben jy over the neads of her other schol ars and said: "Yes, I know who did it; it was an honorable and truthful little boy who came straight to mo with the story of his accident. There l.as been no harm done, Benjy. Most of the water dripped to the floor and the few books that are wet will dry and be just as good as ever." And that was ail the scolding Benjy received. —Presbyterian Banner. A Modern Col limb it*. If it had been your good fortune to be at the little harbor of Heart's Con tent, Newfoundland, on Friday, July 27, 1866, you would have observed signs of unusual excitement. The presence of American newspaper cor respondents would have told you that something of interest to the American people had occurred; the British fla? floating side by side with the Ameri can, from church and telegraph sta tion, would have shown you that Eng land shared this interest iu common with America. This was, indeed, a memorable day in the world's history. After 12 years o£ greatest effort, during which Cyrus Field, the promoter of the project, bad crossed the ocean nearly 50 times after repeated failure and discourage ment, a cable 2000 miles long had been laid across the floor of the ocean and telegraphic communication be tween America and the mother coun try established. Well might John Blight, the emin ! cnt Englishman, call Cyrus Field | "the Columbus of modern times, who by his cable had moored the now | world alongside the old." Well might congress present him with a gold | medal and vote him the thanks of a i grateful nation, and the Paris expo sition in 1867 award him the grand j medal, the highest honor in its power ' to bestow. Before t'nis day of suc- I cess, the repeated failure of his at i tempts had brought down upon him | the sneers of many people, but he had never lost faith that his great idea could be carried out, and there had not 'been wanting faithful friends in England and America who by their generous financial aid and by their belief in him had enabled him to car ry out his project. In 1854 Mr. Field was asked to aid in building a land line across New foundland from Cape Ray to St. Johns. Thence fast steamers would carry news to the western coast of Ireland, and so news of America could reach England in one week. In considering this scheme it occurred to Mr. Field that the line could b« carried across the ocean, and the re sult of this idea was the Atlantic Telegraph company, organized in London in 1556. Both British and American govern ments aided him with ships, and in 1557 and ISSS expeditions set out from Ireland to carry the cable across to America. The expedition of 1857 and the first one of ISSB were failures, Vut in August, 1858, for three weeks communication was established. Mes sages were exchanged between Queen Victoria and President Buchanan, the event was widely celebrated, and then suddenly the cable stopped working. Discouraged md doubting, the peo ple were not easily aroused again to enthusiasm or belief. It v. as not u:i till 1865 that the attempt was made pgain, and this time the cable broke in midocean after 1200 miles of it had been laid. It is hard, however, to dis courage a man who is sure he is right, and in July. 1860, the Great Eastern and the Terrible, both of which had been on former expeditions, the Med way and the Albany, set out from th<s coast of Irelanci to lay the cable across to Newfoundland. There was wild enthusiasm on land this time. Everyone reolized the great difficulty jf the undertaking, bur. there was an interested crowd on shore, among them many Irish peas ants Manv a prayer was offered for the safety and success of this expedi tion. and these prayers were an swered. When after two weeks tlio fleet landed at Heart's Cortent, cap tain and officers in the little church at Heart's Content offered their thanks for the success which had come at last, and a sei mon was preached from <the text, "Tiieie shall be no more sea." —Chicago Record-Herald. ICxplnluliic n Ir«c"iy. He —I wonder how they ever be came engaged. She—Their accounts differ. She says he threw himself at her feet, and he says she threw herself at his head. —Brooklyn Life.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers