©'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.