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511 n II n (! II n ¡ I i I i II B n Iii III i i IIII II! I: III ¡ II 11 II i II II II 1111111111111111& II III 11111111 HI H III1 œ = = 55 [ALL EIGHTS REsaBT.D. = I FATAL FINGERS I 5 By WILLIAM LE QUEUX, = æ Author of The Money Spider," The Riddle of the Ring," &c. = lUll 111111111111111111 I n 11111111111111: 111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111I iË I I CHAPTER XXVII. I FROM OT TilE PAST. I Tli at night Jclm Ambrose sat euent, motionless, and thoughtful at the bedside of his unconscious friend By one of t;i- dogs Don Mario had been found lying- unconscious in the? woods, four kilometres distant. Apparently he had been on his way home, and' had dropped from ex- haustion. lie was without his cassock, a fact v. hieh had given rise to much comment in the village. tie wilt explain it all -when he comes to his senses," they said. The doctor from Acquapenrionto had been summoned, and had sat fcr half an hour in that bare little upstairs re-cm declaring that his patient had evidently suffered some severe shock. Restoratives applied were all to no pur- pose. lie w.ius white a.nd pulseless, his heart calv beating faintly "To what, in your opinion, doctor, is the attack duee Ambrose asked anxiously. "Ali! cir,) signore, I really cannot tell. Perhaps some sudden fright-, perhaps ex- haustion. It can only he cured by complete rest." v Old T"r.-< a remained below, but the hunchback came ai:d went noiselessly, in- quiring from time to time after the health d the pad one, while the Englishman &at anxiously v/ .tching his closest friend. In the long watches of the night John Ambrose sat motionless, watching intently the prostrate, unconse.iotuj man who had been found lying ac,-?ss th. narrow foot- path le?din? through the wood towards Mn.teleonc. "His b?y had been drawn up, as though by pain, his white, bony fingers c!0nch'd into th, palms. Once, oH1 once, r,inc.(' he had been laid unon his :n narrow little iron bedstead ti T ).-)n li t?; iillrro-,v tia-d he shown signs of life—a deep, long- j raw n eigh. Yet his friend watched hy Lira, ever anxious for returning conscious- aess. • 1- 74C d ilic As John Ambrose g::ud around the bare little whitewashed chamber where a small red light burned before the time-blackened, ancient picture cf the Madonna and Child. whereon had boon placed a dead spray of flowers, he could not help his thoughts running back a good many years. The doctor from Aequapendente had ex- pressed a fear that the curate was dying. lie might never recover consciousness, he had declared before he left—promising to return again at dawn. And as John Ambrose sat with his gaze r.pon the thin, pale face just discernible in th. dim light of the c-il lamp,, there arose before- him the of an autumn day long ago, when Eilersdale, his beautiful n'k)f the I i o places in England, had been filled by a gay shooting party, for he usually gave two each pheasant-shooting season. Prime Minister of England, a bachelor, owner of one of the finest estates in the Kingdom, and the trusted friend and adviser of his Sovereign, his rras surely the Iroudest fositioa a r.au could hold. Among his guests were many notable people, as well as his youngest brother, the Honour- able Hollo Lambtou, with his wife and in- f-mt daughter, Irene. Not least arpong those noteworthy guests was Father Mel- liai, the fashionable f,o i r. P. n Catnolic preacher. A man of elegant and command- ing presence, good-looking beyond the aver- age, he was highly popular among the women of smart society, who "Imoll- tile of sz!iar' twho f6ted and Political duties had recalled the host to Downing Street, but he had been absent from his guests only one day when, at even- ing, on stepping from his carriage and entering the great vaulted hall at Ellers- dale, Hiukson, his butler, had handed him a rrete. Opening it, he found a few brief words of farewell from Don Mario, who explained that- he had been suddenly called to London I oy the Cardinal at "Westminster, who wished to see him. I'h..a Ea i-Ino surprise, for Father Mellini s- movements were often erratic, as he laughingly told his other guests over the dinner-table that night. Three nights later—ah how liell he recol- lected that fatdul evening-a strange inci- dent occurred. All the other guests had left the smoking-room and retired, when, as was his habit, 'he had invited his brother llollo into his own den, a small, cosy,, oak- panelled room, for a final cigar before -turn- Jnar III He noticed that Rollo, hll, thin, and athletic, was somewhat annoyed, and attributed it to the fact that he had IK'CH unlucky at bridge. Hollo flung himself into t Le hig arT-C hair before the fire, took a cigar from the box, bit off the end viciously, and applied a match to it. Eilersdale had al"ays been against his brother's marriage with the giddy, ill-bred little woman who was a Catholic, and who had been bred in the suburbs of London, and now, as lie had predicted, she flirted outrageously and caused poor Rcllo much pain and anxiety. He had mentioned it on the previous night, and hi", remarks had led to some angry word s between them—words that were over- heard by two of the guests. They had been smoking together for five minutes or so in that silent, old-world room to which he always retired when desirous of quiet, and Ftollo had just poured out hie vv Uisky and soda, when he suddenly uttered a strange cry, and, half rising from his chair, fell back, gasping that he had been seized by a strange pain in the throat. The cigar had fallen from his fingers, and with both hands he was tearing at his collar convulsively. Lord Eilersdale, greatly alarmed, loosened it, and gave his brother a t the  l iar p U OD Y draught of soda-water. But the sharp agony increased, his limbs shook, and he com- plained of shooting, excruciating pains down the back. doctor, he managed to gasp. believe I'm dying!" The Earl rang the bell violently, but be- fore any of the servants arrived his brother liollo had collapsed and breathed his last. His wife, the pretty, fair-haired young woman in her pale blue dressing-gown—the woman whose flirtations had scandalised the whole house-party— threw herself beside him almost insane with grief. It was indeed a terrible scene. Try how he would, he could never -forget-never. Neither could he rid himself of those painful recollections of all that followed: of the inquest, of the evi- dence of the Home Office analyst that the cigar smoked by the dead man had been im- pregnated with some most deadly substance— tome unknown neurotic poison. Then the local police had visited Eilersdale, seized the box of cigars, and fou-ad that another of them had been prepared, while on searching his I lordship's den they discovered,' locked in one of the drawers of an old buhl cabinet, a tiny glass-stopper cd phial, lialf-filled with some brown liquid, which proved t<, be a poison like that used upon the cigars. The discovery staggered him. He alone had kept the key of that cabinet, yd lie had no knowledge whatever of posses-sing I poison. How it bad come there he could not tell. His reputation, both as Prime Minister of England and as a private citizen, was HOW at stake. He knew that the quarrel with his brother regarding the latte.r's wife had been overheard—therefore the circumstantial evi- dence against him was complete. He was quick to realise ;ne worst. In his iutcme agony of mind, and in hourly fear of arrest and consequent scandal upon his political party, he sought hie old and most intimate friend, Gilbert Cunning- ham, an Under-Secretary of State, who was one of the house-party. He, in turn, con- sulted Sir Frank Nesbitt, and they, in fi trie test confidence, interviewed the It'urnc Secretary, the Iesult being that the warrant b,,ing tli,,tt t!;(, wtii*ri??t already issued for Lord Ellersdale's arrest was suspended for a week. Then Cunningham and Ncsbitt had come to Ali how vividly he recollected that tragic interview iti his own great ■ brown library, where, with locked doors, they told him frankly that his inno- cence would never be believed by a jury— that it i ?i'k.-I 7i(,(11,jr 0 1, I Ir t the instigation of the latter'* wife, :1¡d that the one way to escape arrest and trial was—suicide At first he veliementiv protected, but the. pair sat inexorabh\ sphinx-tike. TIien they told him an amazing fact. lfis sister-in-law had made a statement seriously incriminat- ing him, they said. Th? Party mint not suffer. On hearing that. he b3wcd to their decision, and announced boldly that he would rathtr die by his own hand than bring scandal and .-hr.iac upon his political friends. One thijlg he asked—that the Sovereign should not be told. So it was that his illness v.m: announced, and soon afterwards the papers leported his unexpected death. Yet, c-o well was the whole secret kepi—the two doc to: s receiving big fees for their certificate, and the under- taker for not looking in-side the colliu—that net half a dozen people knew ho' he had been hounded to his end, or that any allega- tion had been brought, against him. 1 lie Sovereign Rent a representative with a wreath to his funeral, and even his great i friend Sir In ignorance, for Nesb.tt- kept their oath of silence. Two year:; later both had died, within a few months of each other. ■ From the position of Prime Minister and holder of the Earldom of Ellere'dale, with a handsome income, a deer-forest in Scotland, and a villa at Cannes, the broken man passed, in one single hour, into obscurity as Richard Goodrich, the eccentric lodger in Cli a rl wood Street, Pimlico. A younger brother succeeded to the great estates, while the woman who had made that mysterious and incriminating statement regarding him, went a b road, taking with her her litt,Q child. Three years later she died of phthisi.s i.n. Geneva, and little Irene, left it it I) had been brought to England by Sir George and Lady Havenscourt, >\ho adopted her. It was then thai:, under the guise of the ii,- <L d Kiehard Gcc. d offensive John Ambrose, old Richard GGGd- rick sought the child out in the park, and ever afterwards kept up that strangely romantic." acquaintance. nc stiU had cne firn). fe.Uhful f?cnd in Don Mario, who, however, had, ?u?u aftc-r his "burial," fallen into disgrace at the Vatican, and had, alas! been exiled back to that obscure parish hi Italy. The one' bright spot in his aimless, broken life was the meeting in the parks with little Maidee —his pretty. merry-eyed niece, who always ca!led him Uncle John." Don Mario, the .man now lying between life and death, was tho only living person who knew the truth—and that, though the fine monument stood to I- I- czcs memory in Westminster Abbey, yet he was still alive. Alas! even he, the dcvcut cleric, his on!y even 1-?e, ',lie ceric. ?,.s oily How different were their positions eigh- teen years ago—lie Prime Minister of Eng- land, and the silent, unconscious man there, one of the most popular prcaehers in the United Kingdom. His own brilliant career had been cut short by that amazing conspiracy that had arisen against him. Someone must have placed those two prepared cigars in the box someone must have opened that cabinet by J .wans of a falsa key and placed the phial therein. For what icason? Either to fix the crime of murder upon him, in order to ruin ( him both politically and socially and bring him to the gallows, or else to make it apparent that he had himself wilfully com- mitted suicide. Somewhere a secret enemy had lurked be- hind him. But his identity he had been j unable to trace. Most probably it had been a political conspiracy, ke thought. Yet vyhaj: mattered? His two friends Cun- ningham and Nesbitt believed him to be the murderer of Rolio. so he had bowed bitterly to the fate to which they had condemned him. From, the police they had obtained back that tiny phial which they had landed. to him, so that lie might take his own life by the same means as that of his brother had been taken. Could a man's public career have ended more tragically? -He drew a long, deep sigh as he reviewed the past, his deep-set eyes fixed upon the motionless form ly" ing upon that nairow bed. Old. Teresa, with sun-browned, wrinkled face, moved noiselessl y, peered in, L, I-, t uttered no word. She save the Signor Inglcse bent with his brow upon his hands bent beside her padrone, hie friend. She heard him mutter low broken words in English, but she could not understand them. She only knew instinctively that her old padrone was slowly dying. The words uttered by the old Englishman were: "God forgive me! God foi-givel" CHAPTER XXVIII. I TELLS GORDON'S SECRET. I A calm, cloudless evening. The broad waters of the Channel lay bathed in the brilliant afterglow, for the sun was just disappearing below the hori- son, and a fresh, health-giving breeze sprang up as Maidee and Gordon sat to- gether upon a seat high upon Beaehy Head. During the past fortnight Maidee had almost completely recovered, sufficiently, in- deed, to ascend those steep, grass-covered slopes from Eastbourne. She no longer used her bath-chair, and already her cheeks showed that she was deriving great benefit from the sea air. In her neat, dark-brown, tailor-made coat and skirt and small, close hat with white veil, she presented a smait appearance, while her face, distinguishable through the wisp of net, was surely one v,h('h would be remarked anywhere. Oordcn, as he sat at her side, her hand tenderly in his, liresciitcd a well set-up figure in dark grey tweeds and soft felt hat: She was sec-ietly proud of him; when on the esplanade she saw how, on every side, people turned and then whis- pered among themselves that the smart, clean-shaven young man was none other than Gordon Cunningham, the man of the moment, whose name was mentioned almost daily in the papers. As she sat there, her Jnce bathedvin the crimson sundown, lie had" wound his arm tenderly about her waist, and raising her veil had kissed her upon the lips. Then, after much hesitation, lie at last summoned courage to tell her something- something which lie had longed to reveal to her for months, and yet had not dared. "Maidee," he said at last, peering into her eyes, "I want you to forgive lllc-I-I want to tell you something which, before we go further, you should know. I want to confess to you something, so that others may not tel: you, and in the telling distort the story." She s i arte( stai, i ii" nt ii i i-i in .Iarni. She started, staring at him in alarm. "Why, Gordon!" she asked, "what's the matter? "Nothing—only I want to tell you some- thing—something about myself—a secret of my life." "A secret! Then tell me," and her gloved fingers closed convulsively upon his as she looked into his face. "Well, I want to tell you this, dearest," he said in a low, intense voice, his gazo iixed upon hers. It A few yeara ago. scon after I left- college, I met an eldcriv man named Tullocli, a financial adventurer, who I have strong reasons to believe, was a friend of my late lather. Though a man who moved in that shady set which haunts the big London hdcs in search of pig<;c!? to plLc! and though always faD of schemes that- were bogus, yet he became my friend', and to his seereo influence I certainly one my advancement. He assisted wc, he said, because he owed a. debt of gratitude to my dead father. Sometimes his movement:! were very strange. He EnD in chambers in I South Audiey Street, and' was often absent abroad for long periods, f r mining properties in which ho was in- terested- After my first journey in the I E?stlmctayoungglrl who, though in 11'¡¡blÛ circnmštallc:'s, ttl':Hted me, "'aId-- v.eiI,ImayasAveU confES it at once—I married her at tho registry office at Mary- Ic'?jnc." i 6 1 ,(, ul) ,.n< l "Married!" she shrieked, startL'?g up and f-cing him in dismay. "-?i?.tcn to the truth, darlings," he urged, very quietly, still h?id'ng her hand and sTowly drawing her back to her seat. "Ours was a, secret union. We lived ill lodgings m the north of Londoll under an assumed none; yet—well, I was not hoppv. From the first week I kn ew I had committed a grive error. Yet I had married, and the girl was my wife. Before my marriage l-iv wife had a pet fox terrier, very old, and half blind, that had belonged to her brot her. And one day she declared that the poor animal was useless and complained of by the landlady, and she must destroy it." "But why tell me this 1" cried Maidee, interrupting. "You are iiiarri(-d-C-ordoji "Hear me to the end," he said very earnestly. "It is but right that you should know the whole truth. A few days after the suggestion made by my wife I was one evening in Tulloch's rooms, and our conver- sation turned upon curios. From a drawer in his writing-table he took a tiny bottle, which he said was one of the strangest, curios he possessed for the half-dried liquid it contained v.-as a most deadly poison, a single drop of it, either taken by the mouth or injected into the bloed, being sufficient to cause death. I examined it with curiosity, and asked where he had obtained it, but my inquiry evidently caused limn annoyance, for lie snatched it from my hand and threw it back into the drawer. Half-an-hour later, w hen he had gone into the next 'room to answer the tele- phone, I suddenly recollected the blind terrier. Therefore I opened the drawer, took out the poison, and next day gave it to my wife, telling her to handle the stuff with the greatest care. She expressed disbelief | that any poison could be so potent, but poured out a small quantity upon a piece of sugar, which she placed on the mantel- shelf cf the sitting-room, intending to give it to the animal when he earner in. I took the bottle back and left, for I was anxious bo replace it in Tulloch's rooms. When I entered his chambers he at once looked me in the face curiously, and asked what I had done with the poison. I fear I was con- fused, but was compelled to produce it and restore it to him. Judge my horror, how- ever, when a few hours later, I learnt through the newspapers that my wife had been found mysteriously poisoned. almost as soon as I had left her. She had had, I recollected, a slight scratch on her left thumb, and in holding the sugar as she dropped the fluid upon it, she had, no doubt, absorbed the noxious drug—whatever it was. My first impulse was to go to Camden Town and make a statement to the police. But if I did, I should be compelled to acknowledge my secret marriage. There- fere I refrained. In my despair I consulted Tulloch, -when to my dismay he coolly de- clared me to be a liar, and accused me of the wilful murder of the girl Helen Weaver. He had somehow ascertained that I lwd. married." "Helen Weaver!" gasped Maidee, pale and rgitateel. "And she was your wife, Gor- d0n 1 "Yes, dearest," he replied in a low tone. "I have told you the whole truth because— well, because from that moment Tulloch 00- c a mo my enemy. He blackmailed me—then d.is::pr<"Ùed, .aùd I heard he had d?* in Ih?Iy. But only recently he has re-.ap1") again to taunt and torture me with a crime cf which I am entirely innocent." "But, Gordon, has it not proved that the girl Weaver and several other different persons in London died by exactly the same mysterious drug as did 'Sir George end that poor old man in Pimlico." "I know," he admitted; "it is all a com- I, plete mystery. Tulloch returned and urged me to put that question in the I-Iovsc- t lire a toned that if I did not he would come to you and allege that I killed Helen. And yet, at the very moment when I had risen to interrogate the Home Secretary, I re- ceived an anonymous note, declaring that if I dared, my secret enemy would encompass mv ruin. 1 stood with ruin on either side. I hesitated—and suppose I must have fainted." For a few moments a silence fell between toe P';Í! a silence only broken by the so-co'iiiiig of a gull above them. Then Maidee, her womanly sympathy asserting itself, took her lover's hand saying: "Poor dear! I did not know all that. I —I ought not to have misjudged you. For- give me "Of course, darling," he said. "I have told you this because—well, because I know not from one day to another that Tulloch I may not return, and again repeat the das- tardly allegation against me." She paused, her face turned thoughtfully -towards the darkening sea, for the evening light was now fast falling. "And yet, surely it is a very suspicious circumstance that this man Tulloch, who is your enemyr, possessed the drug which has for so long mystified both police and analysts. Medland has told me that both Sir George and the man Goodrick fell vic- tims to it. Could Tulloch have been acquainted with the pair?" "Who knows? He is a strange persoii-a nan who is a past-master of many profes- sions, especially of politics. Once he told mo. I remember, that he knew Sir George." "Ah! Then it was he who killed hilll-- without a doubt," the girl cried. "Cannot we tell Inspector Medland and let him search for the culprit?" (To be Continued). •— ——1
:THE GERMAN'S SORDID TASTE.I
THE GERMAN'S SORDID TASTE. I Although you read the papers every day and every week, perhaps you haven't noticed that among the hundreds of clauses in the Treaty presented by the Allies to Germany there are two of a particularly into: esting, and novel character. Within six months the Germans must i-etiii-n- the skuH of the Sultan M'kwawa to the British c;?, the Sultan wtwa to the Briti,.Ii This skull is that of a native chief of •German East Africa, who for seven years r1::1:c::1 the Germans, till, in 1898, rather than surrender, he committed suicide. The Ciennaus decapitated him and ifeiit his head iur exhibition to a Berlin museum. It was ,'i brutal, unnecessary act, and Great Britain is determined that the natives have returned to them the head of their The Koran cf the Caliph Othman to the King oi Hedjaz is also to be returnee 1 y the lImB. This is one of the world's no st ancient literary treasures, dating baei: to 711 A. IV. and it doubtless fell into the hands of the Turks when they captured Medina in 1812. ——-
£ 5 FOR TWO EYES.I
£ 5 FOR TWO EYES. I The prices to-day of artificial limbs of all varieties are most high. Like ever,) thing el.-e, the price has "gone up" very con- siderably of late. Time was when a man who had lost a leg went to the village car- penter, and was fitted with a wooden one at a cost of a sovereign or so. The modern artificial leg or arm, however, is a compli- cated and ingenious piece of mechanism, .rod the cost has risen proportionately. The cost of an artificial leg nowadays is from £15 to £ 25 apiece, and arms at from u,, One type of artificial arm, indeed, invented by M. Cauet, a French ortbopredist, costs a lot more, but it is fitted with a patent hand which enables the wearer to write, pick up money, and cvc-i piiy a violin. Ears, with drums, cost and really good artificial eyes are £ o the pair. It will be seen, therefore, 'that completely to reconstruct a man who has had the misfortune to lose both arms and both legs, and to have been deprived cf his sight and hearing, would coat about J 100. Some price!
[No title]
arrests have been made in connection with the theft of a motor-car, loaded with some hundreds of pounds worth of WIIH-S and brandy, from the Royal Bell Hotel, Bromley, Kent. I Two ell -Very Thomas a i, vaine I)urilford-feli into a tank of tor while playing at Newport (Mon.) <JUIS>S- wcrks.
lOUR C i i I L Dq. "r-_ N'S…
lOUR C i i I L Dq. "r-_ N'S CORNER. I THE TEASE. Nancy was very proud because- her mother had sent her all by herself across the meadows to Farmer Gilpin's to fetch the new-laid eggs. ¿ She arrived at the farm; Mrs. Gilpin packed the eggs into a basket, and she set off home again. But when she came to the stile, there was John, Farmer Gilpin's boy, sitting on it, and trying to kill Hies wi tn' a wisp of corn. Now, John was a. great tease, and as soon as he saw Nancy he made up his mind to annoy her. She came up to the stile, and asked him to let her pacts. But John only laughed, and flicked the corn in ktr iace. and tickled her nose with it, and didn't move an inch. Poor little Nancy didn t know what to do. She knew her mother was waiting for the eggs, and she couldn't get home except by going over the stile. So she caught hold of the wip of corn, and, tried te> pull it out of John's hand. And John didn't expect her to pull so hard, and he suddenly over- balanced him*eif, and fell light off the stile, on the top of Nancy, and the basket —and the eggs! Then John was really ?orry. Nancy was crying, and. all the eggs were broken. He picked up the basket and he ran to the farm, and he brought her back twelve new- laid eggs that his father had given him to sell for himself. So Nancy dried her tears and ran happily home. And John never teased her again! I APRIL SHOWERS. .i .i. k [-t li. I Mollie and Sybil Lad been told that they j I were never to go cut in the town alone, But one morning the April showers made the garden too wet to play in. So they crept out by the garden gate and nobody saw them go. After they had been right through the town, Mollie said it was time t.o go home. But just as they were starting back a very sharp shower came Qll: "Let's shelter in this doorway," Sybil an April shower." Pre- sently, a door opened in the passage, and tile lic-arl a 1,04C?- the children heard a voice say, "Come in, my dears, and get warm by the fire." And then they saw that a ver" y old woman was beckoning them. Mollie thought it would be rude to refuse, so they went in. But the bad old woman never let them .warm t'hem.eivos by tvo fire She took them up to a cold room, and locked the door. The children were dreadfully frightened. Only Mcllio discovered that outside the window grew a pear tree against the wall. She didn't wait a minute. She was a good climber, and so she went down that tree just like a monkey. But Sybil was too much afraid to try. So Mollie rushed off home as hard as .cr she (cuM go. She e' brought her father and a policeman and a lot cf other people back with her. And Sybil was rescued. And it was found out that the wicked old wc-nian used to steal other people's children, and sell them to men in circuses and travelling shows. So they sent her to prison for the rest of her life. I MAY BLOSSOM. It seemed bad to believe that fighting was going on all over England^ for it was the menth cf May, and the may trees were white with blossom. The father of Rc-ger and XL?ry and b3by Phil ?ns on the King's side, ar.d was far away fighting for him. Rm they remembered th?t it was their fsHi?r's birthday. So en Mav morning they got up ?eTy e?rly to go and pick the may to d-eccrata tho b;c::Ki?&t table in his t) the ?c After the children had gathered the may -In hour. they thought it was time to go home to br?a?ft?.t. Then. in the middle of the next field, Ro g'?rsKWSomo :;tin :tfPJ:,lr:i;"j¡h<17t. ."Li-; down in the grass quick!" Roger e,-i. ?'o Mary ai. l ivby Phil lav down in the long grass, ar.d Roger i'td all the may they had gathered eii top of them. But he knew there wouldn't be enough to corcr him as v.ell. So as soon as he had finished, he waited till the horsemen saw him, and then ran into the wc c-d. When they saw a boy running they gal- j loped after him. net- thinking it was worth while to. rtop and see if was un- der the heap of may. But they never found him, for Roger had crept into an old hollow tree 1 And when the horsemen .had gone, the children went home ar.d decorated the breakfast-table with the may.. SELDA, THE KISS FAIRY. In the garden the bees buzzed and the birds sang, but what was that other funny little noise? Ss-ss! Ethel couldn't make it out at all. She looked all around, and to her surprise she saw a tiny little, fáírv with two great big wings flying towards her. Ss Ss went the fairy, and Ethel b oked up at her as she flew straight towards her. Ss 1 She had given her a big kiss on her lips, and Ethel felt just how she did when Mum- mie—Mummie, who was far away in India —kissed her. "Who are you?" she cried. "I'm Selda, the Kiss Fairy, answered the little sprite. "I'm the kiss your LlIn. to ie sent you in her last letter. "O—oh! how lovely!" cried Ethel. "Did you come all the way from India?" "Of course I did," answered the faiTy. I've coj)12 to stay with ycu. to make up for your Mummie being away "How lovdy" cried Ethel again. Selda was the dearest little fairy ?- n?ible. She played HU f\rts cf games with Ethel, and made her have a \ery jony -%N,ith Et i )-cl an d a, When Ethel had to gd in Selda went with her, for she said she was invisible to every- one except Ethel, as, of course, she belonged to her, and nobody could ever see anyone else's all c Ethel was staying with her grandmother, and before Selda came she had been very lonely, as she had no cue to play with, but now she was as bright and happy as the day was long. tier grandmother noticed this, and one day she said to her: "Why, I don't believe you irisa your mother one scrap." But Ethel I-, t, r head and bilfhor, for, of course, Grannie did not know that Selda gave her a good-night and a goc d -mern i n g ki?, e\ cry day ir-vm her Mnrnm i e And when at last her Mummie did come Ivme, although Ethel was- as pleased .as pi-eased, yet she was just a little bit s:.d, too. because she had to say good-bye to Selda, who flew off to comfort seme other little girl whose Mummie was far away. But Selda promised h1' ibat if ever her Mummie had to go away to India again, she would come back to her. I IN -1.) 1' L Ù..u. Little Jeanne and Victor Rene felt frightened. At lea^t Jeanne i?;t fr.ghten?d, but Victor stood up boldly with his arm b-,t4?- N', her, stcod -al) the rough soldiers aii'-d at tl-e with ,rid t?,ie t. D.id.hc was ?.hird t?c? 1 g ?ates. and they had come all the way to to see him. Jeanne and Victor and Rene lived a little way cut of Paris, end they wore very happy until the war came, and Daddie had to go and fight. Then he was taken prisoner. They knew he was in prison in Paris, be- cause they had heard their Mother telling Pierre, their soldier cjiTsin. So they made U) their mintt-s to go to Paris and see their Dacldie. But when thev got- to the big iron gates, there were crown-; of Tt\)r;tir.:I' outside and roug h soldiers ? isaiug thei back, and wdien llene :•]:(J if they would let them in they laughed and told them to run away. Then one cf the rough. fias.tyT locking soldiers e:1me up to them, and he was just- putting^ out his* hand t) take hold of Rene, wlIcn Victor, to his great joy, saw his cousin Pierre hurrying through the crowd, and he calJed to h im. As soon as the soldier saw Pierre he drew back. Then Pierre came up and to the other soldiers at the and' at last, i they let the children in. And their Daddio was very pleased and surprised to see them.
- - -_- - - I.-- | THIS WEEK…
I | THIS WEEK IN THE GARDEN, "f "As is the gardener, so is the garden.Hebrew Proverb. 1, Planting Summer Flowers.—It j pes-auc to commence bedding out now piovaaeJ the plants are ready, but tie Laiokr p:ao'- enly should be commence d w.ri. lebowm- fa "ith tnc- e \\1ic!1 are • tte ha "-ay. and finally ] utting out tender plan is, as be g onias, t irie time ?u Tvu.e. Aiuii- rhinums are grown in pT???'-??yL.?'y g?r- d<.n,and can L? plants! forthwith. Sweet Peas.—The staking i-f the pi'inti must now be completed, a net '?th? biM?.' ar<- intended for ordinary c- f^ratire ]?T- pos?sthc y('um' growths iha.uld l-e attended to (1",Ilv, 2 v i-c to -c d i t- t?- i t i ::)r{i;['l:i:f)ï,g: ?r?vths.goth?t t\c CHer?y of t::e plant may he concentrated on the single stein. An occasional applieati' n el c .d scot wui J stimulate 1, o I,, t I 1 1) r (? I- ."k" is Cherj'icp.—M?kc sure t.f?t r.??idfF dp r?t obtain a hold of teS<0 trees ?'a,h <<y with some insecticide upon the f:l't j pea ranee of the pests. This clear, .-rig should always lie done when the chcri • s are green, or there will be d fTleu 11 y cf doing the work afterwards. In the ca*e of Morello cherries, attention will be ncod'd in regard to stopping and thinning the growth, or the t c L, < cc, too crowded. « I To Obtain the Finest E-cse*, Side I Buds Should be Removed. Young Fruit Trees.—Pinch the later il shoots on these where they are likely' to bee-me too prominent or to make too rapid progress at the expense of the leading- shoots. Where the trees are on walls, the leaders should be s< cured in position i- out delay. See tlat the,, young trees are kept clean and free from insect pests. < Strawberries.-—Where the beds have net aJreadv been nroteeted from birds thnc wH! 'x' d<:1gr of k?s. Old htJ. With plenty (I ?ger Gf ](,:?s. 0 1-d lv.4,- pl-l-"y (.1, laying the y 1-o fail-IV L?t vc?!? nLI: I do" not produce sufficient leafage, a?d the nets must b< supported CHi" them. The 1;Kst method of all is to pro-, ids a h?ht c?f i?os"?:, !?c. i possible to gathn the fruit without remov- III,, the ret.. The Rhubarb Patph.—There is 1:0 need to pull this when other small tiuits becomd a\adaLie. By such ccntinua) p.nling the roots are considerably weakened, ,md th:s becomes evident next yeRr Anything tnat I-K cc  vei- ,%n)7thiD!7 t:jat can be done from now onwards in the wa y of feeding this valuable crop should be done, as the stronger the plant-s become now the better will they be next season, j iiiiiiii-c tieni ttlv. I V??t't?ble ?.lan.?Y-.—The.-e should be Thcicushly hardened off before they are put -?ut. ci much time will be k?t. In my opinion a site prepared for them on the level I is preferable to the popular plan of growicg them on a manure heap They need a let of water, and much will be wasted if the latter plan is adopted. Shelter each plant at night for somo time alter planting. In- verted flower-pots aic as good -is anything for the iiurnotM' or Hoeing—Do not all.ow the ground undeT and between bushes and trees to liecoine grown over with weeds. Thc-se not only pre- sent an untidy appearance but rob the roots of the trees of nourishment and moisture. Hoe freouentiv to kill weeds and prevent- the soil rom cracking and becoming dried j up1 up' < The Best Way to Water Plants in I Pots is to immerse Them in a Till; d Water. I Lettuce.—Where the soil is light and wafer not close at hand, sowings made during the present month should be limited to the cabbage varieties. Continuity, Ideal, I and ;1;) the Year Round, are all depend.: I able. Radishes.—Whenever possible. select a partially-shaded spot for sowings made throughout June and July. A fair amount i of haif-decaved manure should be applied burying it only a few inches below the s-ur. face. Sow broadcast in preference to drills ) Runner Beans.—Provide adequate support I to these before the tops get entwined, or  much damage may result. It will greatly facilitate growth if the leadtng shoot is ioosciv tied to the support intended for it, and frequent syringeing overhead indulged in, especially after a hot day. ♦ Cabbage Stumps.-Giye a little attention I to the stumps after the earlier spring cab- bagce have been cut. Nitrate of soda hoed in around them will encourage quick growth cf the young shoots. Soot is an excellent substitute for the nitrate of soda. Planting Tomatoes. — These who are anxious to get their gardening dene on on(. fine day generally repent their haste. I saw tomatoes • planted in the garden early in May, and they arc probably worse now than when put out. Hor.no plants will tene. fit by being given open-air treatment, pro- vid-ed the spot is not too much exposed and draughty. Stand them on a firm ash base to keep worms out of the pot, and be at- tentive to watering always.
* PFzNGUINS BY AIRSM'P.
PFzNGUINS BY AIRSM'P. A mong t'ie\More interesting inhabitants ?f ihc Antarct i c re giona arc The penguins, fhi: :JÚti::{gi: IJlJ ¡jnil;Ù family, walking upright, living in commu- nities, quite una fi aid of man, r.ud possess- ing one trait almost unknown among any other cf the so-called lower creature, That is, the old birls will look after young ones that have strayed from their parents, and tend them a, carefully as their own. A live Antarctic penguin has never been seen in England. One dray go further and that onc- of these birds has never been seen in the Nnrthcin Hemisphere. 1?. is easy enough to c-atch t :n I u t it is j i/11:(,>ç:- t:11!y to t:h \h .1:'I:j_1': tmw.J t? t?c j;.tl;e C'ola d the- Anblctic' continent, they cannot, stand trc.pica? heat, srd die 'ci?re reaching I'M equator. By the use of aircraft, however, this could be <'vcrco?e, a? it v ou'd be pOBÚHe foT a dirigible to v??'. the Antarctic, pick up as d-ri gi?, i e II c, I- ti.1e i-,p as ling ::t;:i: i: l f'£;1! te. ten theasnnel feet--could ic?nain in u fe-,t lempeutare q:if' o?c; enough tosi?i?tLa penguins.
WHY YOU CAN'T HAVE GOLD. FOR…
WHY YOU CAN'T HAVE GOLD. FOR NOTES. Most people think that anyone can legally -h.niand geld for bank notes from the Bank rd England. This is not- so. Before the "w ar, when the gold standard was based cn a rule which provided that the Bank of England nate is-ne must be bached up by a certain amount of gold held bv the Bank, it col"4 be dene, but when war broke rut the etan-dard could not be observed. As wa formerly the case, the Bank is now" under no .obligation to redeem it-» notes "¡- ;M4-A 'r-< "l.- '.ô. in iii h e, Treasury have i, ed Treasury Notes to the value of 34-3 millions, which are legal dender for the payment cf debts. Nedher can the holders of thoie rie'oard that they should be redeemed in gold. The final blow was dealt t3 the gold was prohibited. Now that ollJ. geld reserves have falien very low—it is esti- mated that rt the moment they c- I v amount to twenty 111 j 11 j G n. pounds— !lie -oi e: r men t have prohibited the export* C'')]:?'q?cn?y. -c mus? do our forc-ipm bKS? re-e- by tre ixp-ort cf good ? cr on :?cdit. 
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The Ceniicii cf Cambridge House (the Cambridge Unlv-.isitv Settlement- in Cam- berwell) have appelated as Head tile Rev. T. W. Pyin.D.SA formerly chaplain at Trinity College, and lately Assistant Chap- lain-General to the Third Army in Fiance, in place of the llev. N. B. Kent.
I 'PHONING TO FRANCE.1
I 'PHONING TO FRANCE. THE WONDERS OF WIRELESS TELEPHONY, An announcement of great importance. demonstrating the great value of wireless telephony for directional purposes in con- nection with aircraft has just been made. The test was carried out during a night flight from Kenlev to Paris in a Rolls- Royce engined Handley Page. Communication was opened as soon as the i machine had obtained height, and, after spea king to the ground station, speech was very clearly heard from Kenley. The offices: conducting the test easily recognised the voice as that of an officer known to him. I CLEAR AT FIFTY MILES. To a distance of- about 35 miles the strength of signals was so great that speech from the machine could be clearly froin the iAn,??t c b?? ir- i les it vi-as stil'I heard at Kenley. At 50 miles it was still distinct and constant, and was heard until the airplane was crossing the Channel and was in touch with Marquise, the first ground station on the French side. On the return journey conversation be- tween the machine and Marquise was picked up at Kenley. One of the recent developments is an air- plane set which can be converted within a- tew moments for transmission of either voice or Morse signals. "Wireless telephony has now been defi- nitely adopted as the means of ground-to- air malversation and vice v"r",a on the Lon- don-Paris route.
I TERRIBLE DUAL TRAGEDY.I
I TERRIBLE DUAL TRAGEDY. At an inquest at Bethnal Green, a veT- I lict of "Wilful muider"' was returned against Harriet Jackson, aged 36, wife of a foYtier in Syria, whose two little girls-Lilian, aged four years, and Maud, nspd three years—were found dead at their ho .no in Ilague-street, Bethnal Green. According to the evidence, Mrs. Jackson Fntercd the &ur?iy <? a focal dcelnr ,md -;?id, "I have'done the children in. I have put their heads in the gas oven. The un- employed have done this. They weie after th?m/andIMt'ed t?e ch?die?. I "I am quit? sane. r?tfh the police. I want t'rum to protect me from the unem- v; ?-I t'iill to E,e the I The bodies of the two children were found on a bed, and in the neck of each I was a wound, while cn another bed lay a huge knife. I J
I BRAZIL'S PRESIDENT.I
I BRAZIL'S PRESIDENT. I I In I.o?our Cr Dr. Possoa, the Pie-idc?t of 1; .1',)"1. ;c J. ,-> .1"L: 1! ,1. Brazil, the Kh? I.s? i?Yeu a banquet at f Buckingham Palace, when among those pre- sent were the Qrccn, Fr;lce A'bd-t, Prin- ce's Mary, Prince and Pnnco-p Arthur of Con naught, MPIC. and lube. Pc<-soa. The historic service of gold plate, brought ipe-eiallv from Windsor, was used, and the fioral decoration i were exceptionally choice. j Tho-o en the ??? arranged mainly in }i.i:?it <d(,si01i:IJ!'ir:'d Íc.,E'< rhododen- dron*, ?df???/ ? ii I lie to F!i h e 1-?c a', t h of the President, he en-ire assemblage rose also and remained ctanding throughout tKdl speeches. After* the banquet the King and the Presi- dent retired to a neighbouring apartment for cig ars, coffee, and a chat. A little later the party broke up, the President re- tained to his hoiel.
[No title]
Mr. Bcu jamin Etn?.t. T?a-tcr of ?cvc?- ?oaks \\¡{,tr;, ;Li to a'le of to (-= j dridge, but was found dying on the road- side beside his machine. Lord Pentland, late Governor of Mad:«.s, and Lady cf i.e King and Queen at lanch at Buckingham .J. 1 "U u <.C dU"1 -t j\ Palace. Burglars broke into the efhee of the Armistice Commi?k'? in Berlin and ¡rJ',¿ I off with 175,000 mark?. A reward of ',C? marks is offered for any information on the sublet.
THE POULTRY YARD (Ml Helpful…
THE POULTRY YARD (Ml Helpful Hints for "Backyarders." By "COCKCROW." I ft] roe;-?.—? of poultry yaids c?' find that l L;;E;}6 iofl)\),J1\n)"-t :]: It: for some time ow i n g, o: c-:»nis-a, tot,h? i?L: t.i?t chicken rearing is now in fuU swing. I the c ?i. ?v c? t h ose wi? hntch with i!?'?- I tl:t:t fiî;:¡}i75;q ¡;i;:}f p??ce the chickens in, and fie-e br?o?c:? idiould be thoroughly cleansed and white- was h ed Naturally the breoder thoukl ?e kept warm, ?? no caddm.? min-t be allowe d lor if this ? not p!<??te d ieg- wea k ue-"?'m r<eu l t,n;!d th:s is mo^t fatal to the chickens. It is as well 'to cover the IlJl:coler fiODI' \Ït:l htrpr.aud th'saTc?d h, ri?k Qf ci-snip aife?ti;? the bhd?? which might be the case were bare, boai as ern- ployed without any covering. Points h) watc h arc that !? ?orld should be giy<ni to I \t'cL ;] 1HO':ir'2 ,,1di;'1; :1;l that over-heating and overcrowding n?;? alwav-i be avo.deel. An excedc-nt meal for > toe first time is found in fine grits and •. canarv seed, ?r d nft?r a week the th?'k? mav b? piven a hU> oit food bo or thj'?p t?? a da-L It should be ?? s.?iLdG d a-?d dried c? v-Ith ?ro-n d oHt- or I ;¡! ;rj;£" ''¡ g;l,O" l'' I FLOCR THE Cocrs. Fcn<?iu2' my rG?ark.? above concern i n g the :i;f; for J'¡ Çtl; rt::n i:t itjsttrr?.?-?ry loaddth.'t?r.p I?umptcd sometimes to think ?h?t' when th? ground is hard and dry th? cnu^e- do not a .fi-oer to their CC),PS. Certainly it i.- not- necessary in the day-time, but it should always j2 provided at night, U.; ft- ad seuce may cm:?e many ailment-. If a vo?dcn floor i- ??t D.a?.i?'? a 'trip of tarred felt- i r; y,\lX :¡{'l\lt tt:;X('tta;Ld cl¡; 1'1':1 .A.. li't: hay should be strev,n over it. ?h?. l e for clucks i- ea-ily provided by giowiu'e' a cro p sa y of Jer-e y ca bba g c- :f1 o' ;1:: -(>i ''O'1C:0; ù ;f:tl a gccel height. Another goed ?dpn? to sow ?ca?c-t: !?.r.M by th? ?de of tu-s wire- net tn fi d i v i s i on s. Nj-IONNEXENG THE CHICKS. An h; g c?-? idea of ?r?.In g a L'icc? h :i" J; gË 0C}1: ¡; t '(:Y:;¡i1: ,:Flf h?t.hin'? her chicks has ic-t a!I ihtpic?t in life, allc wiug her family to suffer rcriou- ¡;;f,I: ¡ :,Y;T. Ii 1:¡:'¡' 'iy ¡: 'J private r-cad-ec. 'ibis is ni effect: procure? a box ".?h f-?.c ??-ics bare d in c.xh cud, \¡¡ ); tlrl(');\J'll a in C{:\th fT ;,£: r?c,r.t.?arc?.:cf'ch<d a era-.? tne top of ihc '?'.x. ?"- d ca t h e'; Mrin? ?n? c?d stocking-legs are su-peneicd to 1 ang v.*ei! down. This makes a fine !)C", rc C,r the chicks, which on dry fce-d will do well. I'mrm-ic ye-r. SEX. Au interesting expo imcnt for ¿ccrtaiIl. ing the sex of an c-gg is given by a writer, w h o??v? firct get au ordinar y needle an J cotton, tiere ;d it do?b?', and kil the en d s lacecher. Place eggs to be tested on a table, and fake the cotton between the thumbs, holding very tightly, place your elbows on the tabic at the I c- c., of the e.g. Now drop the needle over cup of tne <g-s r:O;1 ):i:,ttr n,iLoir: :Y;!¡; 6 \'L Lccp etiH, an d vat eh very carefully. o-1 will thc? .-ee t'? needle move, ii the egg 's fertile. It will n?s'? more accord in ? to t  ¡;},d{':]:,X'('.(,: a circle. If a cockerel, it will move like a. pendulum, L:.k '3 ald f'orwaids. If t'e eg<? is unfertile: the needle will remain pe.?ect"y FOG PE-S-EJIVATIC 13. <Jf'ni-en-t ditfer rs to the nest means of preserving ergs. Heme authorities Kiainta.n that the° lime-water method is ''??t ?d cheapest, whii.-t olii-ers are in favour of water-glass. Be that as it may, aroiher method and verv cheap one too ic by tile 1"0' (.- T-V 1"1,=,'IJ l-y 'Ie' wtJ"'1.tnro b i- =.j;. 1 ? '.c uMf;.ua]ie d bv ??y ct?cr. ¡: 'li" 1i;l'\1 {:ll1i(;;?!:l- ,('Ù.,(;: ¡ 2 ga '?j:). Lc t\" water ocme to the boumg- I 114 f-o r f?,v c ii ii u ?.i cold, the eggs may be put 'n, and ?c it.l i ??'' cr.?,.? with p3rchmcnt or?'?e way a'r? slid to haYc' been used after nm<f ••• r'hs' &t?r;\?< an ? we'e t?eN perfectly car d I PoruLAHITT or Tim IlArnrnGHS. j Jdst i-?:ci.?y there app?ar? :0 be h'c:t?c ju of tl;,e. lianibiiL-4h 1,? c ?-,t (,:Ie i-?iiie Y.-er? ,ili?oii as pheaoiu-ennd layers. If we except tlie H.ack? it is tafe lo s? y that dc?bl?-uiatuig und tco c?o?c- ??-?leedin? to rcn?h the Re- cuu'ed standard b; thrown the Ham burghs info the br-ekerrouncl (says a writer in Field, card Fireside") v.-hi lot newer .Jr.0.. C ";M .i. ;_J: composite breeds have succeeded thern. and I doubt if the Pencils and Spangled varie- ties will ev;rr again become the popular utilitarian layers they once were. Of the tllaek variety I have better faith; they have been bred more- on utility lin, and whilst the best t-tand<>rd specimens of both sexes can be bred, and win prizes, from a single breediug-pen, ond at the same time prove high scoring layers of a flock avcrrge, they, are at the <tne time the most hardy and c adapted to ordinary culture. I FOR TITE LIOLNYIST. ■•"ihc other varieties will, I opine, ah,:tl1\ remain a breed for the hobbyist who can, undoubtedly, bd a vast amount c-f pleasure in nia:ciKg tne various roatings necegs^ry to produce the handsome specimens they un- l, doubtedly are. The Black KanVaigh r.eenis to do well either in the confined back yard I cr free range. Not long ago a Yeikshim fa-nier, ?ho-?- place i- Ycrv cc!-d :?de? po-<x?. told m? that his Blad liamb urgfcs bpt >ut in the farmyard and its adjacent i'l t',ie f,,riiivard aili -If, a dj;tccnt the '? ho!p of J; t ECYcre ??t?r?? iac?-- "? menl spring." I THE ALUEHLEY BOW. I It ? hitcre?;:? to note that the ?d.M:gy i and District Fanciers' Association has de- to held a show at Wilatlow cu j Novemoer 7 cud P. The committee consider that the tandard of the poultry shoves is i too low for tlie quality cf the birds ex- hibited, and it is therefore intended to give better prize-money—30s., 103.. will be e r c, flal, entry fee of 5s. The names ri the specialist iudges veil! be announced later. The tehediile will include about 60 classes f c, poultry and 40 classes for Bar. tarns. The secretary, Mr. H. Ak.ock, Nnr-ery-iane. TT i 1 n slow, Cheshire, will be glad to hear from, all fanciers who are in- terested.
I ¡FRUIT CROP MODERATE. i…
¡ FRUIT CROP MODERATE. ——— j A Board cf Agriculture expert ?at-os tl'a? ?''oi:?t'h"'f?utcrc.p?in?.c ?d,itisnct i ?cly to be ?.j:.c.rin? I o-vv h ig' to insect pc?t- n('l to be aonormal owing to in..d pests, ?t;-r.?-L?:'r?s were more likely to ?e 6d. c: bd. a pound than 2d. or 3d. Jam-makers,' i (,a. are arger than ever.
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| Anot iu-r warning against the danger cf k"rPin^' h-. 'e shells and ???p?p)..?-ar'tr:?jic& j:l:ji ;i:e;i I  ?' fact cry i? GR? ?' ne- 1)7, t'?-e L P- b,,) L, r ■ ^>J-:e as • factory for ?a.'iHtu? ed alav! men. U uem ploy m-cnt allowance through the ] 1 Cotton Centred Board is to cease en June 7, and recipients will be transferred to the Government donation scheme,