DREAMS.
if every tho
ht shall weigh In the awara,
And every dream as if fulfilled shall stana,
Who may complain or deem the justice hard
That Heaven shall deal when his account Is sci:
The dreams 1 shattered, when with mortal power
1 strove to
ve them form and worthy act,
Shall weigh against me in that searching hour
For all their promise in fulfilment iacked;
But, if upon the other scale shall l1e
‘I'he pure, resplendent raptures of my youth,
Of deeds previsioned, born of purpose high,
Undimmed by earth and lit by llving truth,
Aspiring dreams shall gless what lll betell,
For he whose thoughts are pure hath builded well.
—Peter
McArthur, in ‘The Christian Register,
|
fefededets
Kin and Kind
| *
ferferfotofededololololedoleofelolofoofofioiol
The garden at Hall-i’-th’-Wood, as
appertaining to the dower house of a
family so distinguished as the Mount-
at
+
Ves!
at
oft
St. ta 0 ee ae
PRATT SY
:
eneys, was-laid out in the style popu-.
farized by Dutch William, to whose
favoritism the 15th Viscount Danger-
hill owed the title of first Earl of
Heathylees. The lawns were smooth
as the green cloth of a card table; the
trees—box, yew and cypress—cut in
quaint shapes of crowns, of chessmen
and of birds that strutted and nested
and fought. Alongside each hedge ran
a8 bed of the richest scil; in spring-
time this was vastly gay with tulips;
in summer: sweet with roses, clove
pinks, stocks love-in-the-mist.
The house itself was, to be sure,
scarce stately enough for one of the
dowager countess's dignity; but she,
in spite of an early lifetime spent at
court, loved the hill country air and
loved also her position as mediatrix in
all village disputes. She had brought
her husband, the third earl, a fortune
large for those times; but he unluck-
ily lost much of it in the South Sea
Craze, and died at 45, leaving her
mother of five half-grown daughters
and an infant earl. On the coming of
age of her son she had insisted upon
his marriage; and, not choosing to
ghare a household empire with his
wife, had retired with dignified state
to the house that was hers by right.
Her female children had been disposed
of long before, and she had in the
course of time arranged with little
difficulty the comfortable settlement of
16 granddaughters.
At the present moment the dame
gat in a high-backed- chair in her
withdrawing room, perusing through a
quizzing glass a letter which had just
been brought by special messenger
from her son’s principal house, a hun-
dred miles nearer town. My lady was
smiling wickedly; her bright black
eyes sparkled both with temper and
mirth.
“Honored madam,” the earl had
written. “I trust and hope tnat your
health is perfect, and that the heat of
early summer hath not tried you over-
much. My lady bids me assure you
that barberry leaves in concoction are
a fine remedy for the weakness caused
by advancing years.”
Here ‘honored madan” shook her
head and thanked heaven that in her-
self the family knew a wise person.
“The dolt!” she muttered. “My dolt
of a son, and I but 78!”
“But to business,” she read, ‘‘since
I know of old that you detest beating
about the bush. In short—in short I'm
placing my fourth daughter, Elizabeth
(your own namesake) with =n ft» Vn»
taught proper conduct. She is 18
years old and as unfilial a chitu a> was
ever reared. She has fallen in love
with a neighbor ‘of little fortune—a
likely enough fellow as far as other
things go—but quite out of the ques-
tion for my daughter. As you're aware,
I have no dower to offer with her;
she hath no expectations from any
one. And I have received a most
handsome proposal from his lordship
the Marquis of Allithwaite, who is de-
sirous of taking to wife some tender
soul as yet unspoiled by the world.
When I introduced the matter to her
she proved—I blush to tell you—im-
pertinent and unreasonable in the ex-
treme, and absolutely refused to lis-
ten. Her mother has even less influ-
ence than have I; so I am sending her
to you for you to practice your gener-
alship upon her—to bring her to rea-
son—to teach her the majesty of pa-
ternal authority.”
“Pshaw!” exclaimed the lady. “And
all this shuffling about a green girl!
But Heathylees from his cradle ne'er
dared to grasp the nettle! And so mv
granddaughter Elizabeth's a minx! 'Tis
five years since I saw the wench, and
then she was but as other children. I
doubt even if 1 her speak a
dozen words beyond her respects.”
“You have my leave to do with her
what yon will,” continued the letter.
“The task of breaking her spirit is,
I'll own, beyond me. and my wife
herself’s too pliant. I'd have you point
out the marvellous advantage union
with Allithwaite will bring her.
In all likelihood she would attain to
the high office of mistress of the robes,
which is usually filled by the ladies
of that family. She bids fair to be a
beauty of the dark skinned type—
somewhat like the ancient portrait of
your revered self, which Kneller paint-
ed in the days before you honored
my father with your hand. All my
other offspring are light of complex-
ion, as you're aware.”
Lady Heathylees glanced through
the rest of the letter, which contained
maught of interest; then, ringing a
silver handbell, she summoned Mrs.
Shellcock, her housekeeper, a dame
well nigh as old as herself.
“At your ladyship’s service,” said
the woman, curtesying low and stretch-
ing the hem of her apron.
“See that the yellow chamber is in
order, good Shellcock,” said her mis-
tress. “My son has written word that
“Lady Elizabeth is on her way here.”
heard
Spieler llc
oleae
esededotoe fotos ose fodesosfedeoafeso foto fee x
BY R. MURRAY GILCHRIST. 3
Mrs. Shellcock nodded with a re-
tainer’s familiarity. “It shall be done
at once, my lady,” she said. “And if
I'm not making too free, I'd like to
say that I'm main glad. Lady Eliza-
beth, though ’tis long since I saw her,
gave promise of being the most beau-
tiful of a beautiful clutch!”
She retired, but came back in an-
other moment. “Your ladyship’s par-
don,” she said. “But the groom my
lord sent asked me to state that his
mare cast her shoe thrice, and ’t has
been necessary to spend many hours
at the smithy.”
When she disappeared again Lady
Heathylees took ‘up her ebony gold
handled stick, and passed through the
great hall and out upon the terrace.
The roses were in full bloom; the air
was heavy with their fragrance. The
summer heat was ' tempered by a
splashing of a fountain that was shap-
en like a chubby boy with a couch.
There was no sound save the hum-
ming of countless bees and the tired
singing of the larks overhead. Lady
Heathlylees's quaintness was in per-
fect harmony with the place; she had
the air of a fairy godmother—not one
of the mast amiable, it is true, but
none the less endowed with surpass-
ing dignity. Her gown was of rich
brocade, green and crimson on an or-
ange ground; the skirt was spread over
a monstrous hoop; she had the tiniest
feet, shod in undressed leather, with
heels a handbreadth high. She car-
ried in her left hand a heavy fan, with
which she occasionally wafted her
face, more from force of habit than
from necessity. She made her way
slowly to a Belvedere at the end of
the terrace, and, entering, crossed to
the latticed window that overlooked
the glade, along which all comers to
Hall-i’-th’-Wood must travel. And
there, before she had gazed one mo-
ment, she gave a sudden start and
closed her fan so ungently that one of
the pierced tortoise shell sticks split
from errd to end.
“Egad!” she said. “Here comes the
minx, and with a squire beside her
carriage! Heaven grand it may be my
Lord of Allithwaite—though, to speak
the truth, the fellow looks too young
and sits his horse too well to be a
wornout man from town!”
Her eyes sparkled more brightly than
ever; it seemed as though she had
already tasted some pretty quarreling.
She left the summer house and went
through the garden to a postern by
which the visitors must enter. In an-
other five minutes the heavy horses
stopped, and the cavalier dismounted,
oponed the door and helped to alight
a young woman who wore a lilac rid-
ing hood anda dimity skirt. She was
tall and graceful of figure; her eyes
were in color and brilliancy like the
dowager’s, but more kindly; a mighty
pretty color warmed her cheeks. She
curtesied in the latest, most elegant,
most deferential fashion, then she took
her grandame’s hand and raised it to
her lips. “I vow, child, that I'd not
have known you,” said my lady. “The
last time we met you were scarce in
the heyden stage; now you're grown
up in every way.” Then she pointed
with her stick to the gentleman. ‘“‘Pre-
sent him, child. ’Twas wise and
thoughtful of your dear father to in-
sure your safety.”
TL.ady Elizabeth's color deepened.
“My dearest grandmother,” she replied,
“you're crediting my father with a
consideration quite foreign to his na-
ture. The gentleman is a neighbor
and good friend. Madam, permit me
to introduce Mr. Eyre—"
The dowager eyed the stranger very
gravely. In spite of her age she had
still an eye for a proper man, and
here was certainly one of the hand-
somest she had ever beheld. Moreover,
he tore a curious likeness to some one
she had known in youth.
“I confess myself honored with his
acquaintance,” she said very coldly.
“I thank him, moreover, for his most
kind attention.”
“Your ladyship need not compli-
ment,” said Mr. Eyre. “Few things in
the world could please me so well as
keeping Lady Elizabeth out o. dan-
ger.”
“Agreeably said, sir, but the ordi-
nary rule of courtesy bade: me offer
thanks, particularly since there is
nought else I may offer. Elizabeth,
child, we will go indoors. I wish you,
Mr. Eyre, a very good evening. I’d ad-
vise you to rest for the night at the
‘Heathylees Arms’ in the village. Tell
the hostess that she must use you well,
since you are known to me. Once
more, sir, a good evening.”
To her great chagrin her sleeve
was caught by her granddaughter.
“Madam,” said the girl. ‘There is—
there is an understanding between Mr.
Eyre and myself.”
“It is apparent,” said Lady Heathy-
lees; “but I strongly advise its discon-
tinuance. Mr. Eyre, you will oblige me
by retiring now.”
He laughed lowly and pleasantly,
bowed to both ladies, rose again to
the saddle; then, with a fine flourish
of the hat, passed slowly down the
glade.
“A handsome man, God wot!” ob-
served the dowager. “And one pleasant
1 enough pour passer le temps. But pray,
my dear child, what name did you say,
I can scarce hear as well this last year
or two?”
“Mr. Eyre of Hassop, madam.”
The dowager smiled more agreeably
than usual. “Why, I could have sworn
that I had seen him before, and now
I learn the reason. His grandfather
—Rowland—and I were friends in
youth—"’
.ady Elizabeth came nearer, actual-
ly presuming to rest her cheek against
her grandmother's.
“Then his grandfather<=and
were lovers!”
But the other fell-a-laughing very
loudly and heartily for a person of
quality. “My sweet Elizabeth!” she
cried, “I was too young to know the
meaning of love—in “truth, being no
older than you-are now. But love's a
you
"thing that begins with a game—a silly,
sighing game—and Rowland Eyre and
I were gamesters—just as you and this
country beau are gamesters. Pshaw!
After the first few months "I gave
never a thought to the grandsire,
though ’twould be lying if I denied
that he was singularly handsome.”
The girl gazed into her face with
disconcerting steadiness. “My dearest
grandmother,” she said, without a tre-
mor, ‘because it pleased you to play
at the love game is no reason why I
should mimic you. I have known Mr.
Eyre for many years and not a day
but my love for him has grown strong-
er and more worthy.”
Never before had the dowager been
so confronted. Her somewhat vivid
color faded: her lips met closely; her
eyes snapped with vexation.
“your friendship with Mr. Eyre is
a matter of no consideration,” she
said. “It is best, seeing that you are
sent here for a purpose, to make you
acquainted with that purpose. My
good son, your father, relies upon me
to bring you to a proper state of mind
for the reception of Lord Allithwaite’s
formal courtship.”
The effect of this plain speaking was
contrary to the dowager’s expectation.
Lady Elizabeth, smiling more winning-
ly than ever, stooped to a bush of
moss roses and gathered one flower.
“We cannot grow them so well at
home,” she said. “Above all lovely
things I love the moss rose. There's
a pungency in its sweetness. How or
why I know not, but it always reminds
me of a ravine in a pleasaunce—a ra-
vine with a little waterfall—"
Lady Heathylees seemed to swell
out like the frog in the fable. “Did
you hear me, mistress?’ she cried.
“I heard you, madam,” said Lady
Elizabeth; “but as I considered what
you said to be unworthy of you I
thought best to let it pass without re-
mark. But, since you insist, I in all
huriility decline to allow my state of
mind to be changed. I have no doubt
that my father has also requested you
to break my spirit; but that, madam,
you will find impossible of perform-
ance. Once and. for all I-—most defer-
entially—declare that I will not marry
the man of my father’s choice—that I
will be wife to none same him I love!”
She untied the riband of her hood
and with steady fingers placed the rose
amidst the laces of her bosom. The old
lady’s agitation was so profound that
for a full minute she could not utter a
word. .
“Five daughters and 16 granddaugh-
ters have I married with ease,” she
said harshly, “and now when my labors
should be over I begin to find thorns
under my feet. You are the first one
of your breed who has dared to pit her-
self against me! Aye, child, regard
yourself as a sparrow—regard me as
an eagle!”
“Madam, the sparrow is beneath the
eagle’s notice. According to the his-
tory of birds, the owl's the sparrow’s
enemy—"’
“A nimble tongue’s detestable in a
maid—it betokens a shrew’s making—"
“But lately,” said Elizabeth, “I heard
my father say to my mother that there
was but one shrew in the world, and
that each husband had her to wife. Not
for all the wealth of the Indies would
I be different from my sex!”
lady Heathylees, in her bewilder-
ment, struck her forehead. “I beg youn
to remember that pertness from a child
of your age to a lady of mine is unbe-
comitig .in the extreme. In my girl-
hood things were vastly different.
“Once more I most humbly ask your
pardon,” returned Lady Elizabeth.
“Theres’ nobody in the world for whom
I have greater admiration than for
vou. Sometimes I even do myself the
honor of believing that I bear some
resemblance to what you were at my
age. And if I be right, why sure none
could ever have thwarted you—as
none’ll ever thwart me.”
The dowager let fall both stick and
fan, exposing her palms in an amaze-
ment that was not altogether affected.
“By the gods!” she cried. “You
should have been a lad and all your
brothers should have been wenches.
You've red blood in your velns—they’ve
nought thicker than whey. None the
less, my dear one, you'll have no say
in the matter. One of the penalties I
insist upon Is a sampler with the
words, ‘How beautiful is Obedience!’ ”
“To please you, my revered grand-
mother, I'll work a score of samplers.”
«7’l1 have none of ’em. It shall be
for your husband—"
“He'll have my obedience without
the sampler, madam. He'll care nought
for a piece of needlework.”
“And you shall embroider his arms.
If I remember aright he comes of Plan-
tagenet stock—"
“Nay, surely—and he has never told
me!”
“A pedigree almost without compari-
son in all England. Every alliance,
.nor since.
M
in my recollection, made to uphold the
dignity. The last marchioness—"
Lady Elizabeth lifted her hands to
her face and after a brief struggle
began to laugh so brightly that when
the first frowns had disappeared her
grandmother was obliged to join in.
And, strange to relate, the old wom-
an’'s laughter was now almost as full
of sweet music as the girl's.
“The last marchioness! The last
marchioness!’” gasped Lady Elizabeth.
“Oh, grandmother, the humor of
these cross purposes!”
“And, prythee, why not a marchion-
ess?’ cried Lady Heathylees. “Tis the
title next to a duchess, and the sounds
finer to any one than an earl’s. Why,
it ‘should be like music to one of your
youth!” : :
“I care nought for the name, madam,
and less than nought for the man
you’d have me mate with!”
“Come, we have talked idly too long.
Let’s indoors. I vow you're parched for
a dish of tea!”
“Not ‘I. I'd. as lief wait in this
beautiful garden till we're both of one
mind.”
“And you will, child. Tell me about
your marquis—he’s debonnair, with-
out a doubt?”
“Perchance he was debonnair before
I was born, grandmother. Now he’s
shapen like a barrel—his face is pur-
ple as mulberries—his eyes are yellow
and choleric—and already he's buried
three wives!”
Then in the priettiest of fashions the
girl actually put her arm around her
grandmother’s slender waist; and the
old lady, notwithstanding her aston-
ishment did not draw away. ‘You'd
not give me to an ogre—a Bluebeard—
a sea monster?’ was whispered in her
ear.
“I'll give you to Lord
that you may rely on. You'd do far
better than your sisters. And belike
with a scold for his fourth spouse he'll
not live more than a year or two!”
Lady Elizabeth’s arm tightened; her
eyes looked very intently into the oth-
er's.
“1 thank you for an inheritance of
Allithwaite;
‘determined will,” she said, “for sure,
tis from you it comes. I dare wage
my soul you'd not be coerced in youth,
And ’tis so with me, dear
grandmother. Once and for all em-
phatically understaad that-I'll be wife
to no other man—"
“To no other man?’ said the dow-
ager, whose temper was rising again.
“To no other man than the marquis—"
Lady Elizabeth, before replying, up-
lifted her disengaged hand and sum-
moned one who, still mounted, rested
in the shadow of a great oak midway
down the glade.
“Mr. Eyre has watched us from the
distance!” she said. “He met me at the
second stage from home and we were
married yesterday at Peak Forest cha-
pel. There's a vicar there who saves
young folk the journey to Gretna.”
For a brief while old Lady Heathy-
lees seemed as though turned to stone;
then ‘she stirred and threw both. her
arms around her granddaughter’s neck.
“By the Lord, thou art the very
marrow of me!” she cried. “And the
only one of my blood who dare have
acted for herself. Call your man here
forthwith—and he shall learn that he’s
gotten a friend in your old grandame!”
—The Graphic.
ee
Horn in a Tree 183 Years.
A sheep’s horn that was imbedded
in a tree 183 years ago is the curiosi-
ty that Jason Elder, a forest ranger
living at Paisley, Oreg., has delivered
to his superior, Supervisor Ingram, at
Lakeview. While rambling in the
woods in 1888 Elder came across a
yellow pine tree, in the base of which
‘was imbedded the horn of a mountain
sheep. He did not then have time
to make a thorough investigation
but since becoming forest ranger he
had occasion to go to the vicinity and
he cut the tree down. He took a sec-
tion of the trunk containing the horn
to Lakeview.
The horn was a little to one side of
the center of the tree and ran in a
circular direction. It was not curled
as are the horns of mountain sheep
at this day, but was almost straight.
Counting the rings of growth, the
tree was shown to be 213 years old.
Outside the horn were 183 rings, in-
dicating the number of years that had
elapsed since the mountain sheep was
caught and held fast by the vellow
pine} ~The horn was soaked with
pitch. It is ten inches in diameter at
the base and protruded from the tree
about six inches. The length of the
horn is thirty inches.—Redding (Cal.)
Dispatch to San Francisco Chronicle.
The Retort Courteous.
A one-armed man sat down to his
noonday luncheon in a little restau-
rant the other day, and seated on the
right of him was a big, sympathetic in-
dividual from the rural district.
The big fellow noticed his neigh-
bor’s left sleeve hanging loose, and
kept eying him in a sort of how-did-it-
happen way. The one-armed man
failed to break the ice, but continued
to keep busy with his one hand sup-
plying the inner man,
At last the inquisitive one on the
right could stand it no longer. He
changed his position a little, cleared
his throat, and said: “I see, sir, you
have lost an arm.”
Whereupon the unfortunate man
picked up the empty sleeve with his
right hand, peered into it, looked up
with a surprised expression, and said,
“By G@George, sir, you're right.”—St.
Louis Republic.
A Sure Cure. “
“Doctor, how. can I cure insomnia?
I'm not getting to sleep these days
before 4 in the morning.”
“Have a boy knock on your door at
midnight and tell you it’s time to get
up.”—Cleveland Leader.
Si
Nn , 2)
NN AS
A
THE PACIFIC
Sm
LIMITED.
—Week’s Oleverest Cartoon by Maurice Ketten, in the New York Evening World.
THE SOUTH HAS JUST FINISHED ONE OF THE GREATEST
CHANNEL-MAKING UNDERTAKINGS IN HISTORY
New Jetties Ready For Big Ships---Lower Mississippi Gets
One of World’s Deepest Harbors.
New Orleans, La.—One of the
greatest ehannel making undertak-
ings in the history of American river
improvement will be brought nearly
to completion when the jetties at the
mouth of the Southwest Pass of the
Mississippi River are finished. These
jetties, after some dredging between
them is completed, will give the
South one of the deepest harbors in
the world by openings to the access
of the largest steamships afloat the
100 and 200 foot depths of the lower
Mississippi River.
The harbor thus made accessible
has navigable water connection with
at least'a dozen States ‘bordering the
Mississippi and its tributaries—the
Ohio, the Missouri, the Arkansas and
the Red rivers. About $6,000,000 is
being spent on this improvement by
the United States Government, which
has the work in charge.
The new jetties were begun four
Years ago. They are on a larger
scale and more substantial than the
famous jetties at the Mississippi's
South Pass, an outlet which for more
than thirty years has been the river’s
commercial entrance. They are near-
ly parallel walls, one about three
and the other about four miles long,
lying more than half a mile apart
and built in the shoal water at the
juncture of the Pass with the Gulf
of Mexico. Their purpose is to con-
fine and thus accelerate the river’s
current across a mud bar about three
miles broad, so as to produce a chan-
nel at least 1000 feet wide, with a
minimum depth of thirty-five feet.
The swift current which they have
produced, aided by dredging, even
before their completion, has caused
a tremendous scour and has already
made fifty to eighty-five feet of water
in some places, where at the begin-
ning of the work the depth was only
a little over a man’s head. To make
the uniform contract depth there is
still in several spots about ten feet
of mud to be removed. It is expect-
ed that the high water due within a
few weeks will sweep the remaining
mud deposits out to sea by the be-
ginning of next summer.
Probably few walls ever have been
constructed under greater difficul-
‘ties than were these jetties. = They
“are made of willow, scantling, stone
and concrete. Although in some
places they are not: six feet deep,
and although their greatest depth is
barely fifteen feet, they have cost
$2,700,000. Every material entering
into their - construction has been
brought from distances of one hun-
dred to five hundred miles.
The jetties have no foundation,
but rely for stability upon their ex-
tremely broad bases, being from 100
to 150° feet wide at the bottom. In
contrast to this great width of base,
the concrete capping which forms
the top of the jetties, and which is
the work receiving its finishing
touches this week, is only a few feet
wide. The capping is a sea wall
four and one-half feet high and is
the only portion of the jetties not
submerged. The wall weighs between
two and three tons to each linear
foot.
The submerged structure support-
ing this mass of concrete is. made
almost entirely of willow poles and
brush. With the aid of frame works .
of scantling the willows were formed
into so-called mattresses—broad, flat
structures resembling bed mattresses
in form—each about two feet thick,
200 feet long and varying in width
from thirty-five to 150 feet. The
mattresses were sunk one above the
other, with the widest at the bottom
and those above uniformly™diminish-
ing in width as they approached the
surface. The topmost mattresses
were uniformly thirty-five feet wide,
and on a level with the surface of the
water. Heavy broken stone was
spread evenly over the mattresses to
sink them, so that a layer of stone
rests between each of these willow
structures. A The greatest number of
supperimposed mattresses is five.
The Mississippi has done some in=-
teresting work in addition to scour=-
ing out a channel, for it has made
the mattresses practically indestruc-
tible to any normal agency of nature
in this region by burying them under
hundreds of tons of mud. These de-
posits follow closely the contour of
the jetties, in conjunction with which
they form new banks of the river.
The only change likely to occur in
the jetties is their gradual sinking,
until in time the concrete capping
entirely disappears. This sinking
already. has occurred to the jetties
at South Pass.
In the course of many years a new
bar may form by silt deposits in the
Gulf in the now deep water beyond
the mouth of the jetties, and then the
remedy will be the extension of the
jetties a short distance further. The
rate of bar extension during nearly
seventy-five years preceding the
starting of the jetties was between
150 and 250 feet annually, and the
deposits responsible for this advance
were made when conditions, now
greatly changed, favored such accre-
tions.
Part of the $6,000,000 allotted to
making the channel is being spent in
safeguards several miles above the
jetties to prevent any increase in the
flow of other large outlets from the
main river to the Gulf. This is being
accomplished by placing stone covered
mattress sills on the river bottom
across the entrances to those outlets.
Several small- bayvous.-leading from
Southwest Pass to the Gulf will be
entirely closed up.
THIS ADVANCED WESTERN SCHOOL
HAS A CLASS
iN WOOING
Courisiiip Formally Adopted as a Course in Illinois Town and Has 23
Pupils--Some of the Subjects That Will Be Taught.
Greenville, Ill.—Professor H. G.
Russell, superintendent of the High
School, has introduced instruction in
lovemakking into the school curri-
culum. Parents of some of the pupils
declare they do not want their chil-
dren’s thoughts turned so early to
love, but Professor Russell and his
wife, who is his assistant, say they
will see the experiment through.
Russell thinks in time courtship will
be taken out of the realm of em-
pyricism and lifted into the realm of
exact science as chemistry followed
alchemy.
Twenty-three pupils, ten of whom
are girls, constitute the first class in
the world to receive formal instruc-
tion in courtship. Professor Russell
has given them three lectures and
they have written essays. The in-
struction will be chiefly through
study of the literature of love, includ-
British Government Orders
Discouragement of Immigration.
Halifax, N. 8.—The Canadian Gov-
ernment has adopted a policy of dis-
couraging immigration to Canada
during the winter season as the re-
sult of the great volume which the
influx of colonists attained in Oc-
tober and November. The govern-
ment has instructed agents to stop
all efforts to induce immigration to
Canada, and an extensive advertis-
ing campaign setting forth the ad-
vantages of the country has been
stooped.
ing the courtship of Miles Standish,
“Romeo and Juliet,” and other stand-
ard works of fiction. Pupils will be
expected to learn:
How to take.heart by storm or by
siege.
How to detect the advent of the
grand passion.
How to behave if parental objec-
tion is manifested.
How to pay a compliment.
How to encourage a bashful suitor
or ‘corner an elusive girl
How to allay unfounded jealousy.
How to propose.
How to ask papa.
The etiquette of the engagement
ring.
Deportment during engagement.
Girls will learn how to promise to
be a sister. The year’s course will
take the students all the way from
the first sweet sting of love to the
altar.
Norfolk Druggists Sell
Large Quantities of Dope.
Norfolk, Va.—According to Dr. R.
L. McMurran, of Portsmouth, there
is a Norfolk druggist who dispenses
fifteen gallons of laudanum daily,
and another druggist whose cocaine
sales average $90 daily. The start-
ling statements were made in the
course of a paper Dr. McMurran read
before the recent meeting of the
Seabord Medical Association on “The
Evil Effects of the Drug Habit.” A
crusade will be started for the sup-
pression of the evil.