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A WOMAN’S WAY.
fhe worid is iull of heroines
Whose brav‘ry none can doubt;
In circuses they face the lions,
At homes put thieves to rout.
But when the storm has passed away,
The trouble disappears,
Why is it that they always say:
“She then burst forth in tears?”
A sudden ganic thrills the school,
The children rush to death;
The gentle teacher, calm and cool,
Controls them with her breath.
But when the horrid fear is quelled,
The tumult once more sleeps.
Why is it, by some force impelled,
She sits right down and weeps?
The fire is burning in the mill,
The terror stricken run
To dash pell-mell across the sill
And perish every one.
A woman leaps before their path;
They stop, in ordered stre:
They file to safety from death’
While she sits down and screams!
1 guess, from Helen, fair, of Troy,
Unto Joan of Are,
'T was ever woman's way of joy
To move in mysteries dark.
No doubt, when Mollie Pitcher, bold
In battle’s blood was painte
She fought like Amazons of «
And went right home and 3
Dal
¢ : :
.,, Pride Versus Love.
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FEE P00000 0000000000000 0 0000004000000 00 0000000009000 400004004400 44094
By ANNIE BEATLEY.
= re er
CIE II 0060000000000 0000000000000 0000000004000 00 400004004060 0004
Clarissa Blois was happy that
afternoon, very happy, and the sun-
shine flooding the moor was not
brighter than that which glowed
within her own heart. For to-morrow
her betrothed, whom she had not
seen for three long morths, was ex-
pected at Royden Court, the ancient
mansion which had recently become
her home.
She wandered on over the heath,
transformed into a garden of beauty
by the abundant purple heather and
rich, yellow gorse, drinking in with
satisfied eyes the loveliness of the
scene around-——all new and fresh to
Behind, nestling in a wooded
hollow, lay the old picturesque town
of Somerton; on one side she caught
distant glimpses of the blue ocean,
while before her, bathed in sunlight,
the moor stretched as far as the eye
could reach.
Bye-and-bye she sat down amid
the bracken, and was soon lost in
thought, dreaming happy day-dreams
in which Dr. Edwin Talbot bore a
significant part.
So pleasant were her reflections
that she heeded not the flight of
time, nor knew that the sunshine had
faded, until she was startled from
her reverie by a distant peal of
thunder. Looking up in dismay, she
saw that heavy threatening clouds
had effaced the blue of the sky, and
there was every prospect of a storm
in the near future.
Clarissa had a nervous dread of
thunderstorms, and to be caught in
one out here on the lovely moor
appeared anything but inviting.
She began to retrace her steps hur-
riedly, hoping to be able to reach the
high road and take shelter in some
farm-house before the storm broke,
but soon found it would be impos-
sible. The clouds grew rapidly
darker, the thunder louder and more
frequent, and huge drops of rain
commenced to fall.
At length, to Clarissa’s relief, she
espied in a hollow a tiny cottage
which she had passed unnoticed be-
fore. The door was opened ere she
could knock, and a pleasant-faced
old woman bade her welcome to the
shelter of her little home.
Thankful to escape from the
storm, which seemed likely to prove a
severe one, Clarissa entered and took
the chair which was placed for her,
and was soon chatting pleasantly
with her hostess, who led a some-
what lonely life, having no near
neighbors with whom to exchange
confidences, and hailed this unex-
pected visitor with delight.
Encouraged by her guests’'s fair
face and sweet smiles, she was soon
Jaunched on the theme so dear to a
mother’s heart—the praises of an
only son—and the young girl listened
with sympathetic interest.
Somehow this simple cottager, her
honest, kindly face shining with
pride as she spoke of her boy, at-
tracted Clarissa, who had come little
into contact with the lives of the
poor.
‘‘He often comes to see me. They
tell me as how he’s a grand gentle-
man in Lunnon, but he don’t forget
his old mother for all that, my boy
Ted don't. He do want me to live in
a bigger house in the village, but 1
like to stay in this little old place,
where I was so happy with my man
for nigh forty years. Look here,
missie,”” taking a photo from be-
tween the leaves of a large Bible,
which lay gn the shelf, “Ain't he a
lad as any mother might be proud
of?”
Clarissa took the
looked at it.
escaped her.
Mrs. Brown interpreted the ejacu-
lation as one of admiration, and her
mother’s heart was gratified. She
talked on, but Clarissa heard as one
in a dream, her brain bewildered.
For the face she gazed upon was that
of Edwin Talbot, her affianced hus-
band.
How was it this poor old woman
spoke of him as her boy? It could
net be—Edwin was the son of Gen-
eral Talbot, of Heatherton Hall.
Perhaps she had been his nurse.
Looking up and striving to speak
calmly, she said:
“And is this your own son?
very handsome.”
“Yes, miss, that’s my boy, the only
child as the Lord ever give me, but
he’s worth a dozen o’ some folks’
sons,” asserted the fond mother, un-
conscious of the dismay and conster-
nation her words were causing in her
visitor’s mind.
~ As Clarissa handed back the treas-
ured portrait, to be replaced in the
Bible, she caught sight on the back
of an affectionate inscription to his
mother in Edwin’s familiar writing.
The storm had partially cleared
now, and, feeling that she must be
alone to think her way through the
mist of perplexity which had sud-
denly enveloped her, she started
homeward, with gentle words of
picture, and
A low cry of surprise
He is
thanks to the widow, who fain would
have detained her longer.
Sir Jasper Blois was inordinately
proud of his noble name and long
line of ancestors, and his daughter
inherited this weakness in no small
degree. She loved to hear her father
tell how their foretathers had come
over to England with the Conqueror,
and it had been a great satisfaction
to her to think that her fiance was
the representative of an ancient
family whose blood was equally blue
with that which flowed in her own
veins.
To be suddenly confronted with
the fact that Xdwin was not General
Talbot's son, but a plebian, born of
peasant stock, staggered and 'be-
wildered her. Astonishment pres-
ently gave place to hot anger and in-
dignation, and all thoughts of love
were driven from her mind. She
would write at once to Dr. Talbot, as
he called himself, and break off the
engagement. He had deceived her,
and therefore she was justified in re-
tracting her promise. She would
soon forget him, and if he could not |
forget
suffer.
As these bitter thoughts passed
through her mind she turned into a
lane which led to the high road, and
came face to face with the object of
her mental denunciations—Dr. Tal-
bot himself!
He greeted her warmly, and did
not immediately notice the coldnéss
and constraint of her manner.
“I found I could get away sooner
than I expected, and so thought I
would take you by surprise,” he said
blithely.
Ciarissa murmured something un-
intelligible, and a shadow crept into
her lover's blue eves.
“What is the matter, Clare?’ he
said reproachfully, “Are vou not glad
to see me? Have you no welcome to
give me?”
Then Clarissa’s anger burst forth,
and in passionate words she told him
what she had learned that afternoon,
concluding scornfully, ‘I never want
to see your face again! You de-
ceived me. You pretended to be
General Talbot's son, when you are
only a new-born commoner. I shall
try to forget that I ever knew you.”
Dr. Talbot listened in silence, his
face white and set, till she paused
in her torrent of passionate re-
proaches.
“Forgive me, Clare. I ought to
have told you this before, I know,
but I dreaded to disturb our happi-
ness. I once heard you say that you
would never marry a man.who was
not of good birth, and I loved you
so dearly, I had not the courage to
risk losing you. But you will not let
this part us, Clare? You cannot
mean all you have said.” He tried
to take her hand, nut she drew it
coldly from him,
“Yes, I mean every word. I de-
spise you for using a name you've
no right to, and——"
“No, ‘Clare, you wrong me,” inter-
rupted, Edwin. “I have every right
to the name [ bear. When General
Talbot adopted me he expressed a
wish that I should take his name,
and that no illusion be made to the
fact that 1 was not his own son. 1
am legally Edwin Booth Talbot.”
Then changing his tone to one of
gemrtle persuasion, he continued.
“But, Clare, if you loved me before
you knew this, you must love me
still. You cannot have ceased to
care for me hecause I am not General
her—well, he deserved to
’
Talbot's son. Say vou will forgivegy
me, dear, and let us be happy again.”
“No, my love for yon died when I
found you had deceived me. It is
better for us to part.”
Still he pleaded, but Clarissa was
obdurate, and she parted from him
at the gate of Reydon Court with
an air of coldness and indifference
which cut him
more deeply even
than her angry words.
Sir Jasper Blois was not sorry |
when he heard that his daughter's
engagement to Dr. Talbot was can-
celled, though she did not confide to
him the reason. He had never
cared much for the young fellow.
chiefly perhaps because of their po-
litical discussions Edwin invariably
espoused the cause of the masses,
and unflinchingly denounced the sel-
fishness and vice of the aristocracy.
Clarissa would have given much
to recall her angry words and cold
looks a few weeks later, when shé&
heard that Dr. Edwin Talbot had
gone to the front. Her wounded
pride had not enabled her to forget
him, and she longed for reconcilia-
tion. How eagerly she read each
day the news from the field of battle!
With what sickening anxiety she
scanned the lists of dead and wound-
ed, dreading lest his name shonld
be there! yy
She persuaded her iather tc spend
that winter in London, and, plung- |
ing into whirl of gaiety, sought to
forget her misery. One night at the
opera she overheard some fragments
her worst fears. i
“Edwin Talbot? Oh, yes, I knew
him well; he was with us at Guy’s.
He was a fine fellow, and clever,
too.”
“Yes, he'll be a great loss to the
profession. Never could make out
what induced him to throw up such
a good prospect and go off to the
front!”
“I believe he was jilted by some
heartless girl with whom he was des-
perately in love, poor chap. It's a
thousand pities for his ;plendid tal-
ents to be lost to th: world. I
fear 2
Clarissa heard no more. The opera
house faded from her sight, the
voices of the speakers behind grew
confused and indistinci—she saw
only Edwin's white face and re-
proachful eyes, heard only his plead-
ing words: ‘
‘““‘Say you forgive, Clare, and let
us be happy again!”
Oh, why had she not yielded?
The next day she read his name
in the dead list, and the weeks that
followed were filled with agonies of
remorse. If only she could have seen
him once more to tell him how dear-
ly she loved him, and how bitterly
she had repented her cruel words!
She had sent him to his death, and
he would never know of her sorrow
and regret. Through it all she strove
to keep a smiling facéwand conceal
her grief, for had she“not forfeited
the right to mourn openly?
In the spring the father and daugh-
ter returned to Reydon Court, .and
the day after their arrival Clarissa
turned her steps toward the moor-
land cottage where Edwin's mother
lived. She had thought much about
the sorrowing woman whose heart,
like her own, was buried in a lonely
a. beneath the scorching African
| sun, and she determined to go and
see her. She could at least sympa-
thize, if she could not comfort.
As she came within sight of the
cottage she saw a man emerge from
the gate and begin slowly to cross
the moor.
The girl's heart beat fast.
like it was to Edwin's figure! Could
it be—was it possible that there had
been a mistake, and he had not died
out there on the veldt?
A few more seconds brought them
face to face. Yes, it was Edwin him-
self, pale and thin, and looking very
grave and preoccupied, but the eves
of love could not mistake him. He
stopped as she approached, and with
a cry of joy she held out her hand.
But he did not take it; only gazed at
her with a strange, far away look,
no light of recogition in his eyes.
“Ted, don’t you know me?’ she
said, with something very like a sob.
The shadow passed from his face,
and the old look of love and tender=-
ness came back to it as he took her
hand in his.
“Clare, is it true what your voice
tells me—that you love me still—
that you have not forgotten me? I
cannot see your face, dear, the world
is dark to me now; but your voice is
sweet and kind, as when you first
loved me.”
“Oh, Ted. and I have brought this
misery on you! I sent you away in
my foolish pride, though I loved you
all the time, and now your life is
ruined. I can never, never forgive
myself!” cried Clarissa, in heart-bro-
ken tones.
He took her gently in his arms
and kissed her. x
“Don’t. mind for -me, dearest.
Your love will brighten my dark
hours, now, and the trouble may not
last. At first the or considered
my loss of sight permanent, but late-
ly they have held out some slight
hopes of recovery. So we will make
the most of that little bit of hope of
to-day, Clare, and not let fears for
the future shadow our joy.”
Old Mrs. Brown was greatly aston-
ished an hour or two later by the
entrance of her son with the fair
voung lady she had sheltered from
the storm last autumn, whom he
presented to her as his promised
wife.” Her motherly pride and de-
light knew no bonds, and her simple
words of true welcome brought tears
of shame to Ciarissa’s eyes. .
Twelve months later Dr. Talbot,
his health and sight fully restored,
took up again his work of alleviat-
ing the pain and disease of suffering
humanity, who already owed much to
his skill; and his wife is happy in
the knowledge that she, possesses a
husband who is noble in the highest
sense of the word. She is endeavor-
ing, though at present without much
suceess, to convert Sir Jasper to the
truth of the poet's words:
"Tis only noble to be good:
Kind hearts are more than coronets
And simple faith than Norman blood.
—London S. S. Times.
How
Work For Rich Young Men.
For the richyoungman who wishes
public affairs the way is wide open.
go to live in a slum, or indulge in
any other social eccentricity.
needs to do is look about him and
at hand—take it up decently and
straightforwardly and Without ex-
cuses or apologies or putting on of
heroic airs—just offering himself to
do it because it is there to be done
ability to do it.
For such rich young men there is
abundant work, and the rewards of
satisfaction in work well done and
all the public honor their merits de-
serve are
Ocean.
The crisis of life is usually the se-
{cret place of wrestling.—C. H. Spur-
geon,
certain.—Chicago Inter-
of a conversation, which confirmed |
roms The... ce
Kind of a Stomach ref
Have ie
pmesitey By (Dard Hutchinson, A.M. , M.D.
HE last deluson, and not the least dangerous, is that our
diet needs to be “regulated.” A man who continuously and
anxiously considers the kind of food he eats—whether it is
going to agree with him or not when he eats it—is a dys
peptic, and will always remain so. In the language of a
modern writer “nothing survives being thought of,” and the
digestion is a striking case in point. The vast majority
of men are led by their instincts, to a reasonably nutritious
and sensible dietary and the more completely we can keep
our minds off our digestions and the “chemical” choice of our food, the bet-
ter it is for us. It is not even well for us to consider too nicely the amounts
of water or food taken, or whether it is digestible or not. y
The really healthy stomach ought to be and is capable of disposing of not
only the digestible and the difficult of digestion, but the indigestible. Any
other kind of a stomach is not worth having and that is the standard to which
we physicians are now training our dyspeptic patients. The stomach which
will melt down and utilize anything in reason that is given to it, is the only
one fitted to survive. Stomachs can be “pampered” just as easily by relieving
them from the necessity of taking difficult foods as by overloading them. Per-
sonally I have met with almost as many dyspepsias due to the former as to
the latter. The stomach like any other instrument, should be kept up to
concert pitch. It should not be allowed to shirk its responsibilities cr to
be humored too much. This, of course, is by no means to discourage intel-
ligent discrimination in the choice of food.
Some perfectly wholesqne foods are literal poisons to certain stomachs,
and those which after repeated trials steadily disagree had better be avoided.
Our aim should be to keep our food-range as wide as possible. Man's
ability to eat and thrive upon everything has gone far to make him the domi-
nant animal, living where others would starve. The sharpest lookout should
be kept for any trace of “spoiling” or putrefaction. Nature has provided an
instinct and a special sense for this very purpose. If we would only use it
and follow it and follow our noses we would escape many a ptomaine-poison-
ing. But Mrs. Grundy says it’s rude to “sniff” at table!-—MecClure’s Maga-
zine.
<2 <7 & &
EE a Rpivrmnil)
Danger!— 3
3 Prevent Mosquitoes 3
ECAUSE of the serious and often fatal inquiry it inflicts on
By Henry Beach Needham.
man, the most dangerous animal known is the mosquito.
Compared with the evil done by the insect pest, the cobra’s.
death-toll is small. This vencmous serpent is found only in
hot countries, particularly in India, while mosquitoes know
no favorite land or clime. Arctic explorers complain cf
them. In Alaska, it is recorded by a scientist that ‘“‘mos-
quitoes existed in countless millions, driving us to the verge
suicide or insanity.” A traveler on the north shore of Lake
Superior, when the snow was several feet deep, and the ice on the lake five
feet in thickness, relates that “mosquitoes appeared in swarms, literally black
ening the banks of snow in sheltered places.”
As to the best methods to employ in ridding a country place, or any other
region, of mosquitoes, the directions furnished by Dr. L. O. Howard, the gov-
ernment entomologist, who has been a careful student of the problem since
1867, are of great value:
“Altogether, the most satisfactory ways of fighting mosquitoes are those
which result in the destruction of the larvae or the abolition of their breed-
ing places. In not every locality are these measures feasible, but in many
places there is absolutely no necessity for the mosquito annoyance. The
three main preventive measures are the draining of breeding-places, the io-
troduction of small fish into fishless breeding-places, and the treatment of
such pools with kerosene. These are three alternatives, any one of which
will be efficacious and any one of which may be used where there are reasons
against the trial of the others.
“The quantity of kerosene to be practically used, as shown by the writer's
experiments, is approximately one ounce to 15 square feet of water-surface,
and ordinarily the application need not be renewed for one month. . . On
ponds of any size the quickest and most perfect method of forming a film
of kerosene will be to spray. the oil over the surface of the water.”
pe A
> What the Air Is
9 : By Lord Kelvin. 9
AM interested in seeing how the opinion I expressed in a
scientific magazine some years ago to the effect that there
were other constituents of the atmosphere besides oxygen,
nitrogen and carbonic di-oxide, has been justified. The la-
test new element is to be known as xenon—not a very e€u-
phonious name.
The constituents of atmospheric air known so far are
th oxygen, nitrogen, krypton, neon, helium, argon snd car-
: bonic di-oxide. Whether any one of those is the element to
which seven years ago I gave the name of biogen, and which I feel sure ex-
ists in the atmosphere, I cannot say. I am in hopes of being able to ascer-
tain by experiment whether such is the case, and later on may have some im-
portant discoveries to record. But neon and helium are very scarce in the
part of the atmosphere nearest the earth. There are only 125 cubic feet
of neon in a thousand million cubic feet of air. Of helium, only 40 cubic
feet would be present.
The properties of these gases and their influence on living things is a
matter I have set myself to investigate. Helium appears to me, as far as I
can observe, to be inimical to bacteria, and I am inclined to think it is the
most potent bactericidal agent known. It seems to have an extraordinary
affinity for that form of uranium known popularly as radium.
=z 2 2
zo ££ & LL
{oar SICH
to make a name for himself in
He need not beeome a socialist, or
All he!
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take up the task of practical politics Uprormaritmsnoolifes
1
and on his merits as a man and his
|
|
A Meeting of 9
The Unemployed
By Marie Blass.
pO0000000@® NE of the most pathetic and painful sights in the world is
a meeting of unemployed. How imploringly and pitifully,
like beasts at the shambles, they gaze at the orator address-
ing them. The cross they carry is a heavy one, and how
: willing they are to shunt a corner of it onto the shoulders
of some wonder-worker or cloud-compeller, who espouses
their cause. How blotched and gray, and seamed their faces
are. Poor things, how willing they are to listen to any
stumper, even if a man with cunning, falsehood and dishon-
esty written in letters of brass on his visage. How hopeless, squalid and
helpless they appear! What firm believers in law, order, and authority they
are! Such profound respect and regard for property! Babies in thought, ini-
tiative and power, still under the spell of feudalism; paralyzed, drugged and
hypnotized, they are the fruits of countless centuries of caste domination, ser-
vitude, and subordination.
VOPIOVVYVe
oh LLELLLE SL
]
A DANGEROUS. PRACTIOR,
Durning Off Paint Makes Insurance
Void.
It seems that considerable danger
to property exists in the practice of
burning off old paint before re-paint-
ing. The question has long been a
subject of debate in the technical
journals, and now house-holders and
the newspapers have begun to discuss
it. Those of us who, with trémbling,
have watched the painters blow a
fiery blast from their lamps against
our houses, and have looked sadly at
the size of cur painting bill because
of the time wasted on this prelimin-
ary work, are interested in the in-
vestigation by the Greenfield (Mass.)|
Gazette and Courier, which gives
considerable space to the reasons for
the practice, questions its necessity|
and suggests ways to prevent the risk|
of burning down one’s house in order
to get the old paint off. It says:
“There is a good deal of discussion
among house-holders as to the desir-
abllity in painting houses, of burning
off the old paint, a practice that has
grown very common of late in
Greenfield and elsewhere. Insurance
men are strongly opposed td this
method. It makes void insurance
policies for fires caused in this man-~
ner. Several houses in Greenfield
have gotten afire as the result of this
method, and in some places houses
have burned as a result.
“It is undoubtedly true that when:
a house has been painted over and
over again there comes to be an ac-
cumulation of paint in bunches. If)
new paint is put on top of these ac-
cumulations it is almost sure to blis-
ter. - To burn it off is the Quickest)
and ch®apest and perhaps the surest
method of getting rid of this old’
paint.”
The Gazette and Courier quotes
certain old patrons to the effect that
accumulations of paint are unneces-
sary. These old-timers lay the blame
partly on the painter who fails to
brush his paint in well, partly on the
custom of painting in damp weather
or not allowing sufficient time for
drying between coats, and partly to
the use of adulterated paints instead
of old-fashioned linseed oil and pure
white lead. The paper says:
“Many of the older house-holders
say that if care is taken at all these
points, it is absolutely unnecessary,
to have paint burned off. They ad-
vise that people who have houses
painted should buy their own materi-
als, and to have them put on by the!
day, so as to be sure to get good lead
and oil. Of course the burning off
of paint greatly increases the cost
of the job.”
The trouble house-holders every-
where have with paint is pretty well
summed up by our contemporary, and
the causes are about the same every-
where. By far the most frequent
cause of the necessity for the danger-
ous practice of burning old paint is
the use of poor material. The oil
should be pure linseed and the white
lead should be real white lead. The
latter is more often tampered with
than the oil. Earthy substances, and
pulverized rock and quartz, are fre-
quently used as cheapeners, to the
great detriment of the paint.
Painters rarely adulterate white
lead themselves and they very seldom
use ready prepared paints—the most
frequent causes of paint trouble. But
they do often buy adulterated white
lead because the property owner in-
sists on a low price and the painter
has to economize somewhere. The
suggestion is therefore a good one
that the property owner investigate
the subject a little, find out the name
of some reliable brand of white lead,
and see that the keg is marked with
that brand.
The linseed oil is more difficult to
be sure of, as it is usually sold in
bulk when the quantity is small; but
reliable makers of linseed oil can be
learned on inquiry and, if your dealer
is reliable, you will get what you
want,
Pure white lead and linseed oil are
so necessary to good paint that the
little trouble necessary to get them
well repays the house owner in dol-
lars and cents saved.
Rubber Neck.
An artist named H Costa, known
as “The Man with the Revolving
Head,” has been examined at a meet-
ing of the German Medical Society at
Prague. He turned his head around
naturally as far as the shoulder, and
then twisted it farther with his hands
until he looked directly backward,
with his chin above the line of the
spine.
Butter a Luxury.
Butter consumption of Vera Cruz is
small, reports Consul Canada, because
of the high retail price. American
butter sells for 60 cents a pound can,
the homemade article at 50 cents, and
Spanish butter at 40 cents. Sveral
butter compounds are alse sold, be-
ing put up in five-pound cans and
mostly used for cooking purposes.
A new concrete pile is made by
spreading a layer of concrete on a
wire fabric having longitudinal rods
attached at intervals. The fabric is
then rolled up in a machine and the
pile laid aside to harden. It also con-
tains any desired number of vertical
rods. One of the rods is a hollow tube
and the pile is sunk by water jet pro-
cess.
New Coal Discovery.
A new coal discovery at Cape Bre-
ton is reported by Consul General Hol-
loway. A 200-foot bore hole shows
a seven-foot vein under an area of
possibly 50 square miles. Develop-
ment is in progress.
-
Horse Breeding in Japan.
Horse breeding in Japan -is being
fostered by the government, $375,000
i having been voted for establishing a
central bureau and a number of stud
farms in various parts of Japan.
.. —————
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