SONG OF THE FOREST RANCER.
Oh. to fool the fresh breeze blowing
From lone ridges yet untrod !
Oh, to see the fur peak growing
Whiter as it climbs to God !
Whore tho silver streamlet rashes
I would follow—follow on
Till I heard the happy thrushes
I'lplug lyrics to the diiwn.
1 would hear the wild rejoicing
Of the wind-blown cedar tree;
Hear the sturdy hemlock voicing
Ancient epics of the sea.
—From tho I'oem by Herbert Eashford in
3,eslie's Monthly.
ftA * AA.AA.A AAAAA^
1 IN AN OLD GARDEN, £
] >
w "VV V■ ▼
"A week after you receive this I
shall be with you, and then, my dar
ling, there need be no more waiting
i'or you and me."
The letter was dated front Chicago,
and signed Sydney. It was a passion
ate letter. A cheerful, earnest letter
the letter of a man who loved deeply,
and saw within his reach at last, the
paradise for which he had toiled and
striven in exile. And the woman who
loved him read it for the twentieth
time, with tender eyes, and cheeks
aglow with happiness.
"A week after you receive this I
shall be with you, and then "
Eight days had dragged themselves
slowly away since the news had
reached her. The arrival of his
steamer at Queenstown had been re
ported yesterday, by this morning's
paper the vessel was in dock at Liver
pool. From Liverpool to Tlireegates
was but a question of hours. H>;
might come at any moment. She had
been faithful to him in word, and
thought, and deed for three years.
For three years she had worn his
portrait in a locket on her heart,
and prayed for him among the roses,
where they had spent so many pleas
ant hours; where they had parted, and
vowed, if all went well, to meet again.
It was a sultry summer afternoon,
and very quiet and still in the old
garden. Scarcely a leaf stirred, and
the silence was unbroken save by the
droning of tho bees in the rose
scented air.
The girl sat down on a rustic seat
to wait with a book, which she had
not the patience to read, her cars j
strained to catch the sound of fa
miliar footsteps. An hour passed—
two hours. The sunlight pierced the j
foliage overhead, and fell upon her |
cotton gown, and touched her un
covered hair with gold. Would he I
never come? The book had dropped j
on her knees, her nerves were I
strained to breaking, and every minute
seemed an age.
At length a firm trend crunched tbo
gravel and she started to her feet with
his name upon her lips.
"No, it isn't Sydney, my child."
An elderly man, whose likeness to
the girl betrayed the relationship, ap
peared round a curve in the path.
His face was pale wit! a great
trouble, and he crushed a telegram in
h's hand.
"No, it isn't Sydney, my child," lie
repeated huskily. His eyes wandered
lo the grass, the trees, anywhere to
avoid her questioning gaze. "In fact,
he won't be coming here at all today. ;
I've just had news of him."
"Father"." The girl went white to '
ti.e lips. "There is something the
matter. What is it? Speak."
"He is ill —very ill. Agnes, child,
don't look at me like that! I —oh!
how can I tell you! He will never
come, neither today nor any other
day. He is dead."
"Dead!"
"He died on the voyage heme."
Then, like a blinding flash of light,
her desolation came home to her.
"Dead! Oh, father!" she wailed.
He caught the slender, swaying
figure he held it close against his
breast, and smoothed her hair.
"Cry. little one; why don't you cry?"
But her eyes were wide and dry.
Her grief was too terrible for tears.
She felt as though the shock had
numbed her, and that no trouble
would be great enough to make her
feel again.
Before two days were over the girl
was tossing in the delirium of brain
fever. For weeks her life hung in
the balance, and then youth and a
fine constitution proved the conqueror,
and she rose, a pallid, little ghost,
with sad eyes, to face the long years
of loneliness and regret.
"She is young, she will forget," her
father tried to believe, and lie said
it to the man, his nephew, who had
loved her since her childhood. But
when he suggested as much to tho
girl, she shook her head.
"I shall never forget," she an
swered, "and I shall never marry an
other man."
She meant her words, but fate was
too strong for her. The cousin was so
kind to her father and herself, and
they told her that her coldness was
spoiling his life.
"But for his generosity I should be
a ruined man today," her father said.
"He is a good fellow, he is rich, he
worships you. Make him happy! You
have had a great loss, but you are
too young to sit down and brood over
the past for the rest of your days.
It is a wrong thing to meditate; you
will fcrow morbid, old before you are
young. Agnes, believe mo, that I have
your welfare at heart when I say
that for your own sake, as much as
his, you ought to marry Ralph."
She was still weak from her ill
ness. She thought "she had no interest
left in life, no desire save to please
those who loved her. So she listened
to persuasion, and when her cousin
spoke one day, she answered "Yes."
"I have no feeling for you," she ex
plained, "other than affection and
gratitude, my neart iroze when Se
died. But if it will make you happy,
I will be your wife when the spring
conie3."
"My unselfish angel, I will teach you
to care for me!" he said. "Heat
melts ice. The fire of my love shall
warm you back to life!"
She did not like to damp his ardor,
but she knew full well how vain his
hopes were.
When the day of the wedding
dawned, she knew more —knew how
culpable she had been in imagining
that she cared nothing for what be
came of her—recognized in a revul
sion of feeling what a mistake she had
made. At the last moment the cloak
of indifference with which she had
enveloped herself fell from her.
"I can't marry him, I cannot! I was
weak, foolish to consent. Oh, Sydney,
my darling, why did you leave me
hero alone!'"
But she could not retract her word
now, it would have been shameful,
cruel; she had let matters go too
far.
Of the events of the next few hours !
she had only a confused recollection. !
She played her part in them mechan
ically, and persons and things seemed
blurred to the miserable girl, distant
as they are in dreams, until, with a
shock of reality, she found herself
walking up the aisle of the church
with her hand on her father's arm.
The 'sound of the organ grew tumultu- J
ous in her ears; an hysterical long- j
ing seized her to tear the veil from her j
head, to shriek aloud before all those
people, that she couid not, would not
r.t?.rry this man, that her heart was in
the grave of Sydney—Sydney whom
she had lost; and then
She awoke! The scent of the roses
was in her nostrils, tho soft wind of
summer stirred her hair, and her lover
had reached home, was bending over
her, with his hands on her shoulders
and his smiling lips upon her cheek. —
Penny Pictorial Magazine.
THE SIGNALMAN'S LUCK,
He Siivod n Life, tint Hail to l'ajt
for It.
The night operator in the switch
tower of the railroad looked at
the clock and seeing that it was five
minutes after midnight, heaved a sigh
of contentment. Fitteen minutes more
and the "theatre train" would pass
him. Then there would be a long rest,
for, aside from an occasional freight,
or wildcat locomotive, the road would
bo practically shut down until G a.
m. Taking his coffee can he put it on
a fixture over the gas jet ro that its
contents would be of the right temper
ature when he had "cleared" his last
train. The "theatre" gone, it was his
habit to eat liis lunch, smoke his pipe,
giance over the late evening papers
purchased on his way to work and take
life easy generally.
"Oh, tell me, pretty maiden, are
there any more at home like you?"
The singer was on the track, along
side the tower. His voice was harsh,
discordant. The operator looked out
of a window. Some 50 yards away,
walking toward the tunnel mouth, was
a man none too steady on his feet.
Reaching a low semaphore signal post
he stopped and sat down on the west
bound rails. Then, slowly and with
some difficulty, lie began to remove
his shoes.
"Hey, get out of there," yelled the
signal man.
The stranger paid no attention and
continued to undress. The signal man
believing that the fellow had not heard
him, took a megaphone, used to give
orders to conductors on passing trains,
and bellowed;
"Get out of there or you'll get killed,
you chump."
It was clear that the man was so full
of liquor that he could not appreciate
his danger. The bell in the tower rang
warning the operator that the "thea
tre" train was entering the tunnel.
The train time through the tunnel was
four minutes. Something had to be
done quickly. No one was in sight;
the track walkers by the usual con
trariness of fate were somewhere else.
The operator, knowing that the line
was open to the westward, set a "clear"
signal for the train. The he fairly
tumbled down stairs and ran down the
track. He seized the man, who had
sprawled on the broad of his back, and
tried to get him on his feet. But the
fellow fought. There was a scullle, but
the sober man was just in time, throw
ing tne bibulous individual to one side
as the train was emerging from the
tunnel. Then he went back to his
tower.
Reaching tho foot of the stairs he
heard the telegraph sounder clicking
"PX, PX, PX." It was his call. He
hurried up, opened his key and re
plied, "PX, PX, PX." Then he paused
and waited for his message. It read;
"Superintendent of division has been
calling you up for five minutes. Got
no answer. Has ordered your suspen
sion for two weeks for neglect of
duty."—New York Commercial Adver
tiser.
At I.ow Ktnco 1810.
The Melbourne law courts have then
Miss Flite, a character immortalized
by Dickens in "Bleak House." An el
derly woman may frequently be seen
in the corridors, addressing the empty
air—sometimes in passionate tones,
with outstretched arms, and again in
low, threatening mutterings. During
the progress of an argument in the
county court, before Acting Judge
Johnston, some reference was made
to the absence of evidence on a cer
tain point. Suddenly the court was
startled at hearing a female cry out in
Irate tones, "I have giren plenty 'if
evidence since *SG!" A glance around
showed that the interrupter was the
old lady of the corridors, who was ad
vancing with determination toward
the barristers' table.—London CA»-'v>.
New York City.—Collarettes of every
sort are demanded by fashion and
muffs are apt to be a requisite of com
fort as well as of style. These ex
cellent models are cut in the latest
style, and are well adapted to the re
modeling of last season's furs, and
to making from Persian lamb cloth
and seal plush. As shown the material
tip# s '
COXIiAP.ETTH AND MITrF.
is Astrakan with a finish of fox tails.
The collarette is shaped to give a
cape effect at the back, with stoic
fronts that can be cut higher or short er
as preferred. At the front edges are
stylish revers which can, however, be
omitted when a plain finish is pre
ferred. At the neck is a storm collar,
fitted in sections, that rolls over ut
the upper edge.
The muff is round and drawn in io
fit the hands by means of elastics in
serted in the lining.
To cut this collarette and muff for
a woman of medium size two and
three-fourth yards of material twenty
inches wide or one and three-eighth
yards fifty inches wide will be re
quired.
Woman'* Theatre Clonk.
The long cloak that covers and con
ceals the gown fills many needs and
makes one of the essentials of the sea-
SM A RT\ LO AK.
i
sou. The smart, yet practical May
Mantou model, shown In tlu> large j
drawing, is suited to a variety of ma
terials, and becomes appropriate for
evening or street wear as it is made
In lighter or darker colors. As shown.
It is of tan-colored kersey cloth, lined
with white satin and is trimmed with
appliques of lace on the rovers and j
collar. When thrown open it is an
elaborate wrap fitted to opera, theatre
and reception wear, but when closed
becomes sufficiently plain to allow of
wearing In the street, or in the cars
en route for entertainments of various
sorts. The same cloth in sage green,
brown and black is much liked for the
latter purpose, while white, pale col
ors and such materials as panne, peau
de sole and the like are in vogue for j
evening carriage use.
The cloak is loose fitting but in- i
eludes lines that render it graceful I
ind chic. The fronts hang straight i
from the shoulders and can bo rolled i
back to form revers or closed in j
double-breasted style. The back is j
laid in inverted pleats, at the centre, j
which flare as they approach the floor, |
and give a tapering effect to the figure.
The sleeves are in bell shape and the
neck is finished with a storm cqllr.r
in Bonaparte style.
To cut this cloak for a woman of
medium size nine and one-half yards
i t material twenty-one inches wide, or
three and three-fourth yards fifty-four
inches wide will be required.
r.uttoiiH CiininnU.
Quite the latest thing in shirt waist j
buttons is an arrangement for the!
frout fastening. Fastidious fair ones '
will desire the rest of the buttons to I
match, and they can easily find them. 1
The part of the scheme, which is new,
is just this: Ou a straight gold chain
of moderate size and the length of a
shirt waist front are mounted live
stones which serve as buttons. Tur
quoise, topaz, garnets, opals, ame
thysts and the rest all figure. The
chain Is, of course, on the under side,
the buttons being put through the
double set of buttonholes. This
scheme not only keeps the buttons
firm, but makes losing them next to
Impossible.
On Mndame's Hack.
Makers of high-class imitation jew
elry were Quick to note tlie broad belt
pieces which decked the back of the
belt of many of the Imported evening
dresses and to copy them. These im
posing things are In (iligree antique
silver, and are closely set with rhine
stones, the effect being simply tre
mendous. These pieces fit into the
back perfectly, and, while of irregular
shape, average iive or six inches in
length by from two to four iu depth.
A Pretty Litt)n Konnet.
Blue is combined with the chinchilla
in one of the prettiest of little bon
nets. The entire crown of the bonnet
is of pale blue resettes of silk, edged
with fine blue roses, each rose with a
brilliant cut steel centre. Around the
face is the broad band of the chin
chilla. indented a little at one side of
the front, where an aigrette is placed
rising from a small feathery pompon
of blue, the tips of which are tiny
steel pendants.
Diamond Horseshoes.
There is a bit across the horseshoe
which forms the head of a hat p!n.
Diamond horseshoes galore aw to be
seen for ordinary pins.
Girl's KierclKf Suit.
The value of gymnastics is too well
realized to require urging. This up-to
date suit enables them to be taken at
their best and provides ample freedom
and comfort. As shown it is made of
French flannel in marine blue, with
trimming of black braid, but serge,
liiillinntine and taffeta are correct,
both iu black and dark colors.
The divided skirt is full, gatheml
at the waist and again below the
knees, where it droops over the bands.
! The blouse is simple in the extreme,
plain across the shoulders and ar
ranged in gathers at the waist by
means of an elastic run through the
hem. At the neck is a sailor collar
with pointed front edges that Hare
apart to show the soft-knotted tie ot
j silk. The sleeves are in bishop style,
with straight narrow cults.
To cut this suit for a girl of ten
years of age seven yards of material
; p •«
GIRL'S EXERCISE SUIT.
twenty-one inches wide, five and
I seven-eighth yards twenty-seven inches
I wide or three and ouo-haif yards forty
-1 four inches - ;ide will be required.
The Kange When Nol in U«e.
In discontinuing the coal range for
the summer some care is needed for its
proper preservation. It seems almost
trite to say that the last fire should
be dumped, and the ashes and dust
entirely removed, but experience has
shown that this caution is needed. The
ovens should be taken out and Mio
spaces in which they fit thoroughly
cleaned and greased. Grease the ovens
also and the range implements, shak
er, shovel, poker, etc., together with
the iron grates and such other parts
of the range as are liable to rust.
These trifling precautions will save
time and money when the range is
to be put into commission again, and
should be observed whether the house
is to be closed or not.
Milky Water Ton.
Milky water is one of the hardest,
things to manage. Even a small
quantity daily fouls pipes and sets up
a most evil smell unless the milky
water is followed by a flushing of soda
water moderately strong, with a lime
water flush about every three days.
The lime water is made more effec
tive by adding salt to it. Sea salt is
best. Put a lump as big as the fist
in an earthern or wooden vessel along
with twice its bulk of quicklime, and
cover with four gallons of not water.
Stir well and let settle. Pour the clear
liquid down the pipes and follow it
in half on hour with a flush of clear
water boiling hot. Thus every kind
of a sink may be kept sweet and
fresh. —Washington Star.
Decorative Hanging Lampi,
Among the latest novelties in hang
ing ornaments are the Damascus lan
terns now seen in shops where ori
ental bric-a-brac is displayed. These
dainty things are extremely curious,
and decorated with chains and jewels.
Another attractive bit of eastern art
is the hanging doran, which is adorned
with shells and mirrors. These may
be used to frame electric lights if
preferred, and even such a modern
addition will not mar their thorough
ly Oriental effect. Russian candle
sticks, too, are most effective, and
have great originality of design. They
are less commonly seen than soma
of the Turkish ornaments, and there
fore prove more attractive to those
who desire greater individuality in
their homes.
Time for Cooking Vegetable*.
Much depends on the age and con
dition of the vegetables, and also the
manner in which they are cooked.,
fresh young vegetables requiring, of
course, much less time. A table can
give you only the approximate length
of time. Use judgment and common
sense, and w~en the vegetables are
tender do not cook them longer.
Bake potatoes 30 to 45 minute 3.
Steam potatoes, 20 to 440 minutes.
Boil potatoes (in their skins) 20 to 30
minutes. Boil potatoes (pared), 25 to
•15 minutes. Asparagus (young), 15
to 30 minutes. Beets (young), 45 min
utes. Corn (green), 12 to 20 minutes.
Cauliflower, 20 to 40 minutes. Cab
bage (young), 35 to 60 minutes. Cel
ery, 20 to 30 minutes. Carrots, 1 to
2 hours. Lima or shell beans, 45 min
utes to 1 1-4 hours. Onions, 30 to 00
minutes. Oyster plant, 45 to 60 min
utes. Peas, 20 to CO minutes. Pars
nips (young), 30 to 45 minutes. Spin
ach, 20 to CO minutes. String beans,
30 to GO minutes. Summer squash, 20
to GO minutes. Turnips (young), 46
minutes. Tomatoes (stewed), 45 to 60
minutes.
When vegetables are served with
boiled salt meat they must be cookked
in the liquor from the meat after it
has been removed.
IrJ
Wonders —Beat one egg, add a
pinch of salt and enough flour to make
a stiff dough. Roll out on a floured
board until as thin as a wafer. Cut
with a large round cutter. Drop into
hot fat. Drain on paper and dust
with powedered sugar. Serve with
syrup or any delicate pudding sauce.
Tomato Force—Put a layer of
canned tomatoes in a baking dish.
Season with salt and pepper, then
sprinkle with bread crumbs. Then
pour over more tomatoes, and contin
ue until the dish is full. ?.lix some
bread crumbs in a little melted but
ter and spread over the tomatoes.
Bake in the oven 35 minutes.
Almond Cuts —Cream one-half cup
of butter; add one cupful of granula
ted sugar, two ounces of finely chop
ped almonds, rind and juice of half
a lemon, one cup of sifted flour and
two eggs; mix well, and roil out on a
floured board; roll one-half inch thick;
buiter a pan; cut the dough in strips
and lay them in the pan; brush with
of egg and sprinkle almonds,
cut very fine, over the top, and sprin
kle sugar over the top.
Pone —Pour enough boiling water
over one pint of Indian meal 'o scald
it; when cool rub in it one tablespoon
ful of butter and one-half teaspoonful
of salt. Beat, two eggs until light, add
them to the meal, then add
cup of sour milk and beat until the
mixture is smooth. Dissolve one tea
spoonful of soda in one tablespoon fill
of water; add it to the batter. Turn
it into a greased pan and bake in a
moderate oven 40 minutes.
A Revolutionary Mailbox.
Among the treasures held by the An
tiquarian .Society in Portsmouth, N.
11., there is an ol<l box the history of
which is given on a label which it
bears.
The box is of tin, painted green, and
shows signs of much usage, which is
not surprising when one considers that
it carried the United States mail be
tween Portsmouth and Boston during
the Revolution. It is about nine inches
long, four and one-half inches wide,
and a little more than that in height.
It was carried on horseback by Cap
tain John Noble, otherwise known as
Deacon Noble, who was post rider un
til 1783.
This box contained all the mail, and
made every week one round trip—oc
cupying three days in the journey—
from Portsmouth to Boston the first
of the week, and three days at the end
of the week from Boston to Ports
mouth. The distance between the two
places is a little more than fifty miles.
The mailbox is somewhat battered
and tlie paint faded and scraped, but
there is no doubt that in case need
arose the stout little box could even
now serve as it did in the time of the
country's peril.—Youth's Companion.
Have a Home of Your Own.
They are a wise young man and
woman who start out in their married
life in a home of their own in some
place where they will have green grass
about their house even if it is only a
few feet. It makes 110 difference how
humble or modest the house may be,
The smallest box of a house with a
plot of green is a temple of common
sense compared to the finest "flat" or
"boarding-house" in the city. If there
is anything appropriate in this life
it is that young people shall live some
where where each day they can see
their own unfolding lives reflected in
the unfolding works of Nature. There
is no beginning, in the home sense, to
a young married life so true, so lasting
and so satisfactory as that. No life Us
a city is comparable to that which is
lived in a small house with green
tilings growing over and around it,
where God's pure smishine bathes and
sweetens every side 112 the house dur
ing the day, and where the surest, life
giving odors that God gives to Ilis
children; the odors of soil and growing
things, are blown into the house while
we sleep.—Edward Bole, in the Ladies'
Home Journal.
Prize For An to Military Wagon.
The British War Office has offered .1
SIOOO prize for the best self-propelling
military wagon.
Pt'TNAM's "F.vnET.r.flß I)ye produces the fast
est and brightest co'.oi's of any known Jyo
stuff. Sold by ail druggists.
Laet year there were 102,705 miles of
telegraphic line* and 933, U" 3 iui!ca of wire
in tba United States.
Wenf'.iesn Cannot S it! Ciirnl
by local Applications os they cannot reach thi
diseased portion of the car. There id only 011 a
way to ctiro deafness, am 1 , that in uy constitu
tional remedies. Deafness is caused by an in
flamed condition of tho mucous lining of the
Eustachian Tuba. When this tr.be is inflamed
jon have a rumbling sound or imperfect hear
ing, and whon it b entirely closed Deafness in
the result, and unless tho inflammation can bs
taken out and this tuba restored to its normal
condition, hearing frill be dsstroyed forever.
Nino cases out of ton are caused by catarrh,
which is nothing but an inflamed condition of
the raueou i surface:).
Wo will giro Oni Hundred Dollars for any
case of Deafness (caused by catarrh), that can
not be cured by Hall's Catarrh Cure. Circulars
tent freo. F. J. CHESEY & Co., Toledo, O.
Bold by Drnggiita, 75c.
Hall's Family i'iilj aro the best.
According to statistics prepared for the
Home Secretary 17u0 children are burned
to death yearly in the United Kingdom.
Mrs. Window's Soothing Syrup for children
teething, sotten the gums, reduces inflamma
tion, allays pain, cures wind colic. 25c a bottle.
The man who keeps his temper doesn't
give himself away.
I¥E¥LETT§
A(ldrf*w to W«mew by the Treas
urer of the W. C. T. U. of
KSHSM City, Mrs. E. C.
Smith.
"Mr BBJLK Sis-rans:—I believe in
advocating a*d upholding everything
that will lift up and help women, and
but little use appears all knowledge
and learning if jou have not the health
to enjoy it.
MRS. E. C. SMITH.
•'Having found by personal expor'
enee that Lydia ' E. Pinkliam"
Vegetable Compound is a med:
cine of rare virtue, and having r.ee:
doyens of cures where my sufferin
sisters have been dragged back to lifw
and usefulness from an untimely gravy
simply by the use of a few bottles t
that Compound, I must proclaim it
virtues, or I should not be doing m
duty to suffering laotliers uud draggo*
out housekeepers.
" Dear Sinter, is your health poo:
do you feel worn out ar.l used rr
especially do you have auy of th
troubles'which beset our sex. take in
advice; let the itoetor.'i alono, tr
Lydia E. PiidtJiam's Vegetal)!
Compound: it i3 bettor than an
and ail doctors, for it cures and the
do not." — MRS. E. C. SVITU, 121- Oa
St., Treasurer W. C. T. U., Kansi
City, Mo.— tSOOO forfeit if above testimonial
not genuine.
Mrs. Plnkhaiu advises siel; w<
men free. Adtlrcss, Lynn, ILLas