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.