©'GORMAN'S HOUSEMAID. Ey la, id Christie Murray. Itcil 1101 l 'GORMAN was painting \ away tor dear life In his | I studio, an empty brier bo- jtween his teeth, and a Hil [ill draped lay ligure on the throne before hint. O'Keefe, with an empty brier between his teeth, was standing at his shoulder, looking on. "You'll be done with it before light goes," said O'Keefe. "I'll be done with it in an hour," re plied O'Gorniau, "and an hour later I'll be in possession of ten sterling guineas, English money." "I wisu I'd the tenth of It," said O'Keefe. "I wish ye had," replied O'Gorman. "Well," O'Keefe began, in the tone a man used on the edge of a request, "I'll tell ye what brings me here. We v re chums in away in the old Dub l.n days." ''l may tell ye, O'Keefe," said O'Gor r-.an. busily mixing a tint upon his palette and not pausing to look at his < ouipanton, "that I don't Hke the news I'm hearing of you. There's none of thq money going In your direction." "I'm not asking It," returned O'Keefe. "It's years since I had ye 111 my thoughts till this afternoon, hut I'm just after meeting O'Reilly, and he tells me you're wanting n housemaid. According to O'Reilly, ye'd like her ugly and ye'd like her Irish. There's a poor widow woman that lived, so she tells ine, on your father's land In Derry before you were born, She came to me In distress the day before yesterday, and all she wants is worlr for her hands. 'Tis little enough I cnu do to help anybody, circumstanced as I am, but when I heard from O'Reilly that you were wanting a maid, I began to wonder whether a widow wouldn't serve your turn, and I thought I'd drop In and put it to ye, anyway." "It's my grandfather she's thinking of," said O'Gorman. "My father's property in Derry would have gone Into her eye without hurting her. .What's her name?" '"Tis Malone," said O'Keefe. "They'd n little holding under your own people en the Glinkilty road." "I'm not recalling the name," O'Gor man replied, reflectively. "But I'm wanting some kind of a woman about the house, and if she can cook and scrub she's welcome to a place as a candidate. What's her age?" "She's about forty, I should say," said O'Keefe, "may be a day or two elder." "And she's ugly?" "As sin!" said O'Keefe with em phasis. "I've known some kinds of sin that were prettier to look at by a mile." "That's a point In her favor," said O'Gorman. "for I'll not have my char acter besmirched in my own house." "I'll be telling her to call this even ing?" asked O'Keefe. "At S o'clock," returned O'Gorman, and went on with his painting so reso lutely that his companion, after linger ing for a minute or two, offered an em barrassed goodby, and faded from the rodm. O'Gorman listened till the front door closed behind him, and peered through the studio window into the street, along which, with a disconsolate eye on the empty brier, ho was slowly walking away. Then the artist laid down Ills palette and brushes and went to a little cupboard, from which he drew a tobacco jar, a bottle of Dublin tipple, a glass and a decanter of water. When lie had helped himself to a drink and had filled and lit his pipe he sat down in smiling content/ meat, and sipped and smoked at ease. "I'd never have got rid of the blngyard at all if I'd let him smell these," he said to himself. "O'Keefe? It's like his cheek to be coming Into a decent house at all with the record that's behind him. I'm not the man to bo hard on an old friend that's a little down at, the heel, but I draw the line at the Old Bailey." He sat smoking and looking at his work from time to time with the satis faction of a workman who has come near to his own purpose, and he was thus tranquilly engaged when twilight fell. Then he went downstairs and ate a chop and a floury potato or two which had heen sent round from a neighboring tavern, and just as the clock on the dining-room mantelpiece {pointed to the hour of 8 a knock Bounded at the front door, and O'Gor man himself answering the summons found a respectable-looking person In black dress, black beaded mantle, black bonnet and black gloves, who courtesled to him reverently, and in n very mellifluous brogue announced herself as Mrs. Malone. "Come in," said O'Gormnn. holding the door aside, and the respectable per son, after executing another courtesy, obeyed. She'"waited while the master of the little house closed the door and then followed him into the dining room, where she lifted her veil, folded her black gloved hands, and stood as If expectant of cross-examination. O'Gormnn regarded her for a moment. "I'll not be charged with dalliance with this young person," he said. Inwardly, and indeed the candidate was plain enough to look at, with her bold and harsh features and a very decided cast fn the eye. "I suppose," he said aloud, "ye'll be able to give me a character from your last place?" Mrs. Malone explained that she had not been in domestic service for some years. Her late husband had been a steward aboard ship, and she as stew ardess had served on the same vessel. She could do plain cooking and all necessary housework. She bod excel lent testimonials, and in Immediate confirmation of this statement she pro duced a number of orderly papers from a reticule she carried. O'Gorman stood looking at them stroking his nose with his thumb and finger, after away he had, and he was Just thinking that It was no great recommendation to the lady that she was introduced by O'Keefe, when Mrs. Malone made an exclamation: "O, but it's dhroll, sir," she said, "but just as ye stood there I thought I could see the ould squire. Is it Mis ther Richard I've the honor of speak ing to?" "O!" said O'Gorman. "Ye're a Clon kilty woman." "I am, your honor," said Mrs. Ma lone, "or next door. I was born at the corner of the barony wall, sir, in the little white house half way between the lodge gates and toll bar." " "Twas the Moriartys lived there," said O'Gorman. "Generations of them." "Av coorse It was, sir," said Mrs. Malone, "and meself was a Moriarty till I married." "Oh, ah!" said O'Gorman. "Mar ried." "Ye'll not likely to remember your grandfather, sir. He'd be dead before your time, sir. A fine hearty gentle man he was, with his hand In his pocket for all an' sundry." "I'd have something more than me hands In me own pockets," said O'Gor man, "If the extrnvagant old villain hadn't made the place a wilderness." "Don't be miscalling him, Misther Richard," said Mrs. Malone. "There wasn't a dry eye for miles when he died." O'Gorman lit his pipe and 6tood re flecting. "When can you begin here?" he asked. "Anny minyut, sir," she answered. "Very well," said he. "I go to bed at 11. If you can be here with your boxes by that time you can take up your quarters to-nlglit. If you're not you can come in to-morrow." Mrs. Malone was certain that she could be back In little over an hour, and she kept her promise. O'Gorman showed her the kitchen and her own quarters, warned her that the studio was sacred territory, and went back to his pipe and hi < tipple. He thought that O'Keefe had not done him half a bad turn in sending Mrs. Malone in his way. It was pleasant in a fashion to feel that there was a link with old Clonkilty in 1113 neighborhood. Mrs. Malono's aspect did not Inspire senti ment, but she brought the half forgot ten home of his fathers to mind, and ho drank an extra glass to the names of ills ancestors. He was an early riser, and next morning ho had to bellow for rather an unconscionable time before Mrs. Malone descended to provide Ills cus tomary cup of tea. "It shan't occur again, sir," said Mrs. Malone. "Once I know your hours and your habits, I'll bo on hand." And, in truth, while she was under O'Gorman's roof she made an admir able servant. Ho suspected her with the tobacco jar; but if she pilfered, she kept her depredations within bounds, and she came from Clonkilty. Outside ids studio, O'Gorman was a lazy man and hard to move, and some times for a month together he would not so much as put his boots on for a stroll. But one night in late autumn, when the first hint, of frost was in the air, the fancy took him to look up some one of his few friends. "Don't sit up for me, Mrs. Malone," he said, on leaving, "and don't lock the door." Some response came from the kitchen region, and he went upon his way. He had scnrco traversed a hundred yards when he encountered O'Keefe, who canio in a rush round a street cor ner and ran straight into his arms. The shock was a little bewildering for an instant, but before cither could ob jurgate the other's clumsiness, there was a recognition on both sides. The two exchanged a word and parted, but O'Gorman had time to note two things. One was that his undesirable acquaintance was handsomely and ex pensively attired, and another that his look was terror stricken. "Gives one the idea of a swell mobs man with the police behind him," said the artist, and dismissed him from his thoughts. The friend with whom O'Gorman hnd meant to pass the evening was away from homo, and he retraced his steps at leisure. Inserting his latchkey in the keyhole he was surprised to find that the door did not yield. He tried again, with the same result. He knocked, and there was no answer. He knocked more loudly and more loudly yet, and by and by was aware of Mrs. Malone's voice from within. "Who is it that's raisin' Cain outside there?" "It's I," cried O'Gorman; and Mrs. Malone opened the door, looking some what flushed and tremulous. " 'Tis lonesome here for a solitary faymole," said Mrs. Malone. "I'd med up me moind I'd sit up for ye, sir, nn' I must have dhropped into a dose beside the foire." O'Gorman was nn easily Irritated man, and he entered his room with a growl. A minute later he laughed. "Mrs. Malone was right," he said; "beauty tempts thieves more than gold." . He tried to settle hirarelf to his cus tomary smoke and his temperate tum bler, but he was oddly restless. A feel ing he had not experienced since child hood was upon him. He could not be- Hove that ho and Mrs. Malono were the sole Inmates of tho house. lie listened, but he heard nothing to justify his own queer sensation. Yes. No. Mere fancy. Yes, again. No fancy this time. Surely that was a stealthy foot step in the-little hall. Surely the door was opening. He was out in a flash, just in time to see the figure of O'Kcefe as he darted Into the street. Mrs. Malone was a little more per turbed than she had been ten minutes '■ earlier. a "What was that fellow doing here?" 1 O'Gorman demanded In a wrathful i wonder. " 'Twas that blagyard 0 O'Keefe." t "An' what wouldn't It be?" asked 0 Mrs. Malone. "Wasn't It In his moth- J er's house I tuk me first service in 1 Dublin? Many's the time I carried him in me arrums." • "What was he here for?" O'Gorman 1 asked. - "That's his saycret," said Mrs. Ma • lone, coolly. "I'll not have him here," said O'Gor • man, "and, above all, I'll not enduro that he shall sneak into the place In ■ my absence and go out again like a J thief." - "He's not likely to trouble you more." 1 said Mrs. Malone. "He'll be out of the country to-morrow." "He'd the look of a fugitive upon'm," f said the outraged O'Gorman. "I'm not saying that I don't appreciate your • position in the matter. I'm not blam ' lng you for remembering the time when that bad egg could tie warranted ■ new laid, and you were his Infancy's companion. But I object to his clan ■ destine presence beneath my roof." ■ " 'Twill not happen again," said Mrs. ■ Malone, and at that they parted for the I night, O'Gorman, when he came to think about It, being rather disposed ' to sentimentalize over abiding affection • which could find a resting place even 1 In the heart of so uncouth a representa tive of the softer sex as Mrs. Malone. He was rather full of work just then, 1 and he was up early. His servitor ' brought him his morning cup of tea, and announced that the household was ■ out of sugar. "I'll not be ten mlnyaits In gettln' It," i said Mrs. Malone. He was setting his palette for the morning's work, and only half con ■ selously heard the hnll door slam be ' hind her. Then he raked his color box 1 in search of a special tube. "Now, what the Juice did I do with that veridlan?" he asked perplexedly. " 'Tis the very thing that I'm In need of. I know." He darted upstairs and entered Mrs. Malone's bedroom. "There should be a little handful of things here." He gave a little tug at the handle of the right hand upper drawer of a shabby little combination of toilet table and chest of drawers, and stood like one petrified; for there, under his nose, was a set of shaving tackle—razor, strop, bowl and brush, all complete—and it was plainly to be seen that they had been used that morning, for the brush was still In a moist lather. And while he was still staring and wondering what on earth the portent signified there came a triple knock at the front door and an almost simultaneous ringing of the bell, and when he ran down to answer tho sum mons, behold Sirs. Malone In the cus tody of two gentlemen in plain clothes with a policeman in uniform behind her. And, to add to the strangeness of it all, a growler cab at the curb, with one uniformed man beside the driver and another inside keeping ward over O'Keefe. "We'll come inside, with your leave," said the nearest man in uniform to O'Gorman. He set a steady hand on Mrs. Malone's broad back and impelled | her into the hall. "You'd better bring i him this way a minute, .Tim," tho ! speaker added, turning to the police- j man in the cab. The amazen O'Gorman recoiled back- j ward step by stop, and the whole six . crowded Into the hall, O'Keefe and Mrs. Malone now seen to be in hand- j cuffs. "I'll take off your bonnet for you, ma'am," said one of the plain clothes ! men. lie suited the action to the word, ' and Mrs. Malone's respectable head of ' hair went with the bonnet. An unmistakably masculine counte- 1 nance was revealed, with the appear- | ance of an unmistakably masculine j crop of very red hair, cut as close as : that of a convict. "In the name of Heaven, what Is It?" j gasped O'Gorman. "It's a little case of making and ut ' tering false coin, sir," said the official ' 1 spokesman of the party. "This Is O'Keefe, alias Mitchell, tills is. This ! ' one is Morlarty, alias the Lord alone ' knows what. Had one of 'em under • ' observation for n month—the other ever since I've been in the force, to say I the least of it. If you'll be good enough ' to show me the lady's room, sir, I'll ! 1 take n look at her belongings." i 1 O'Gorman, still feeling as if he were ! ' in a trance, obeyed, and In the first ' place indicated the shaving kit. ! "I had just found that," he said, ' ■ "when your party knocked and rang. I ! "O, had you?" asked the officer. ! ■ "You needn't say anything to criminate yourself, you know; but of course you ' know what my duty is." "Heavens!" said O'Gorman, sinking ■ heavily on the bed. "Forging and ut tering!" He was released upon his own recog ' nlzances that very morning, entirely 1 exonerated at the remanded hearing 1 of the case, and dismissed with apolo ■ gies. But unto this day, if O'Gorman shows ' any signs of torpor, he can be roused 1 by anybody who chooses to whistle a bar or two of the air which goes to 1 Lever's song of the Widow Malone. ■ On tho whole, his friends have de cided that it Is better not to rouse him. ■ —Black and White. Electric lights now disturb the ghosts - of the Pliaraolis in the royal tombs In - the Valley of the Kings. ' CHILDREN'S DEPARTMENT: A DISnWASHINO GAME. On Mondays before I go to school I wash the dishes. It's mother's rule So Bridget can sort the clo'es. To help me to get them quickly done I've made up a game that's lots of fun, And here's the way it goes: The forks are voyages, and their wives Are the tablespoons and the silver knives; The teaspoons their babies wee; Each platter, saucer and cup's a boat In which from the dishpan port they iloat— They're shipwrecked when at sea. The soapsud breakers dash fierce and high, But all hands arc saved, and rubbed till dry. The wrecks are towed in to shore. In closet harbor they safely stay Till sailing date on another day, Then bravely embark once more. And washing the dishes in this way Is nothing but fun. And I always say— And mother agrees with me— If work's on hand it's a splendid plan To do it the jolliest way you can. Just try it yourself and see. —Lilian Dynevor Rice, in Good Ilousekecp HOW TO MAKE A TUBOPHONE. The tubophone is a musical instru ment very much like an cxylophone. The latter, as you know, consists of a number of bars of wood or metal of different sizes, each of which gives its own peculiar note when it is struck. The tubophone Is easier to construct. All you need to make one Is a number of stiff pasteboard tubes such as arc used for mailing some Illustrated periodicals. If you cannot buy the tubes at the stationer's it Is an easy matter to make them by bending wot pasteboard about a round stick and gluing it together. You will want at least eight tubes. The diameter of all should be the same, and the lengths should be eighteen, sixteen, fourteen MISSING SOLDIERS' PUZZLE. i"|>' It ■m r d. two British soldiers. ' and three-eighths, thirteen and onc lialf, twelve, ten and three-fourths, nine and one-half and nine inches. Having cut tho tubes to these lengths you will find, on holding them in turn lightly by the middle and striking them with your finger, that the shortest tube gives a hollow sound which is just an octave higher than the sound given by the longest tube, and that the others give the intermediate notes of tho major scale. That is, if you call the longest tube C (though It may not ho in tune with C on your piano), the ot hers will be D, E, F, G, A, B, and c the octave of C. Or you may call them do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si and mark them either with these names or the letters. Lay the tubes In order on the table and fasten them together with two cords (of silk, 11' possible), in the following manner: Tie one end of each cord together, put the longest tube between the cords close to the knot, and tie the cords to gether again on the other side of the tube. Then make another knot a half inch further along the cords before you tie iu the second tube. The Idea is to hnvo two knots and a little cord between each two tubes to keep them well apart. This is for the middle cord or cords. For those at the ends of the tubes one knot between ench two tubes will suffice. In the same way fasten two wooden rods, which are to serve as handles, to the longest and shortest tubes or better tie the PI-AYING the home-made TUDOPHONE. rods in at once when you put the tubes together. Now your tubophone is com plete. For a hammer nothing can be better than a cork stuck on the end of a knitting needle or a light rod. The instrument may be held with one hand anil plnyed with the other, hut it is better to fasten the end rods to the backs of two chairs, so that the whole apparatus is horizontal and you can play with both hands if you choose. The sound made by a paper tube does not seem musical, but a tune plnyed rapidly on a number of tubes has a very good effect. The eight tube in strument will do for a number of sim ple tunes, but you can increase its range by adding a few tubes at each end. The shortest of the eight tubes is half as long as the longest, and gives the octave of the note of the longest. So the next noted, the octave of D, requires a tube eight inches long (half the length of the next to the longest). The next would be seven and three sixteenths, the next six and three fourths, and so on. To extend the series at the other end we need tubes of nineteen, twenty-one and one-half inches, and so on. Again, a twelve and three-fourths inch tube inserted between F and G gives F sharp and a ten and one-eighth Inch tube between A and B gives B fiat. The addition of these will en able you to play in two more keys (G and F) and to play tunes with some "accidentals."—Brooklyn Eagle. LIFE OF OVID. Ovid was a Roman poet of the Au gustan age, of equestrian rank, bred for the bar, and serving the state in the department of law for a time, threw it up for literature and a life of pleasure. He was the author, among other works, of the "Amores," "Fasti," and the "Metamorphoses," the friend of Horace and Virgil, and the favorite of Augustus, but for some unknown rea son fell under the displeasure of tlio latter, and was banished in his fiftieth year, to end his days among the swamps of Scythia, near the Black Sea. —Chicago Record-Herald. A KNIFE TRICK. Fig. 1 looks as though the hand had some maguetlc power which mystcrl ously keeps the knife suspended, but a glance at Fig. 2 shows that it Is a very simple matter, after all. Strango Coincidences of a Magazine. Strange coincidences in magazine making are noted by the editor of Harper's Magazine, writing in the "Study." He cites as an example the case of a story, written for Harper's, whose plot turned upon a flood caused by a broken reservoir. The story was held some years, and when finally it was published its appearance proved to be coincident with an actual flood caused by a broken reservoir—the Johnstown disaster. Twenty years ago, the editor writes, the editorial staff of Harper's Magazine became al most superstitious by reason of the number of deaths of world-famous men which occurred almost simultaneously with the publication of their portraits in the Magazine. The late surveys of the Euglish coast show a loss of laud of forty thousand acres since 18G7, although in some places, as at New Roniney, the solid v ground has been pushed out two m.ies F or more in the sea. There are now ninety-seven rice mills in Burma alone, and tifty-eiglit saw mills. They are gradually being ex tended by the Burmese themselves throughout the province. They cheapen timber for building purposes, and rice, the staple food of the country, besides giving remunerative employment to a considerable number of hands. An enterprising lignite colliery, at Bodarf, near Cologne, has laid down a central generating plant for supply ing light and power in the district be tween Cologne and Bonn. It was found that the fuel was so poor that it would hardly pay for transport over considerable distances, but it has turned out a very valuable asset when w put to the above purpose, and used at the pit mouth. The magnitude of the electrical busi ness and what is meant by the phrase "investment in copper," which occurs so frequently in electrical literature, is disclosed by the statistics of copper consumption in the electrical industries of this country. It is asserted on good authority that during the past year 170,000.000 pounds of the red motal were used for electrical apparatus, while the telephone interests recpilre about 00,000,000 pounds additional. The milky sea, as it is known to mariners, is not yet fully understood. It seems to be most common in the tropical waters of the Indian Ocean, and is described as weird, ghastly and awe-inspiring, and as giving the ob server on shipboard the sensation of J passing through a sort of luminous fog in which sea and sky seemed to join and all sense of distance is lost. The phenomenon is probably due to some form of phosphorescence. A swinging radiator, suitable for or hot water, is a recent offering of an American manufacturer. One naturally questions the demand for such a design, but the actual market ing of the type in large numbers during the past seasons proves that the device has a niche of its own to fill. The dis tinguishing characteristic of the radi ator is that it is hung upon a pivot, and can be swung back again to the wall when not in use, and out into the room when greater heat Is desired. The entire weight of the radiator is sus tained by the top wall bracket, the working connections at the bottom car rying practically no weight. The Q IU>? *JL tion of leakage of steam or water atv the joint has been cared for in the union in a practical and successful manner. As these radiators, according to the maker, are in special demand for hospital work, they are made as plain ns possible to reduce to a minimum lurking places for dust and its accom panying hosts of germs. Good Hunting Without. Exception. A gentleman having an estate in the Highlands, ns he was going abroad for some time, advertised the shootings to let, and told Ills gamekeeper, Donald, who was to show the ground, to give it a good character to any one who called to see it. An Englishman came down, and in quiring of Donald as to how it was stocked with game, first asked if it had any deer. Donald's reply was: "Thoosnnds of them." "Any grouse?" "Thoosnnds of tliem, too." ' "Any partridges?" "Thoosnnds of them, too." "Any woodcock?" "Thoosnnds of them, too." The Englishman, thinking Donald was drawing the long how, asked if there were any gorillas. Donald drew himself up. "Weel, they are no' so plentifu'; they jist come occasionally, noo and agin, like yourself."—Sparc Moments. Left In the Neat. A lady who had moved Into n remote district of the West found it almost Impossible to keep her "help." One after another girls came on from their country home in the East, and were , married before, as tlie deserted house wife said, they had time to wash the dinner dishes. Finally, she sent for a severe-looking maiden of advanced years who had no opinion of masculine > blandishments. On the day of the V maid's arrival a miner called at the ? kitchen door for a glass of water. Ho looked at her, drank the water, ex pressed his thanks briefly, and then went round to tile front of the house, where the mistress herself was sweep ing off the steps. "Well," said he, lazily taking off his hat, "looka as if you'd got a nest egg now."—Youth's Companion. Stoneware Furniture. The German plan of finishing moat shops with tiles is a very satisfactory one, as cleanliness is thereby secured with added attractiveness. In many German butcher shops the floor, walls, ceilings, counters, scales and desks are all finished with glazed tile, somewhat similar to those used in the American bathroom. Stoneware furniture Is a T novelty in German shops that might he adopted with advantage in this coun try. This is especially applicable to meat shops, fish and other markets, kitchens, sculleries, etc.—Philadelphia Record. Early U.o of Electric Flow. So long ago as 1870 a field at Ser maize, in France, was plowed by an electrically driven plow.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers