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The Difference. BmGGs: Well I must call upon my tailor. GBIGGS You are fortunate. BRIGGS: How SO ? GEIGGS My tailor usually calls upon me,

THROAT IRRITATION AND COUGH.—Soreness and dryness, tickling and irritation, inducing cough and affecting the voice. For these symptons use Bppa's Glycerine Jujubes. In contact with the glands at the moment they are excited by the act of sucking, the G lvcelineln these agreeable confections becomes actively healtnif. Bold only in boxes 7fd" tins Is. lid labelled JAMES Epps & Co., Homoeopathic Chemists, London." Dr. George Moore, in his work on "Noseand Throat Diseases," says The Glycerine Jujubes prepared by James Epps and Co., are of undoubted service as a curative or palliative agent," while Dr. Gordon Holmes, Senior Physician to the Municipal Throat and Bar Infirmary, writes :T-" After an extended trial, I have found your Glycerine Jujubes of considerable benefit in almost all forms of throat disease." LC511 HOLLOW Ay's TILLS.—Any dyspoptic sufferer aware of the purifying, regulating, and gently aperient powers of these Pills should permit no one to cloud his judgment or to warp his course. With a box of Hollo^ay's Pills, and attention to its accompanying Directions," he may feel thoroughly satisfied that he can safely and effec- tually release himself from his miseries without impairing his appetite or weakening his digestion. This most excellent medicine acts as a nsrrine and bodily tonic by aiding nutri- tion, ami banishes a thousand annoying forms of nervous complaints. An occasional resort to Holloway's remedy will prove h'ghly salutary to all perions, whether well or ill, whose digestion Is, slow or imperfect, a condition usually evidenced by weariness, languor, l'stlcsantsa, and despon- denq. L5005 LADDEBS.—Ladders for Builders, Painters, Plas- tows, Farmers, Private Use, &c., all sizes at Cottrell's old-established Manufactory, Barr's-street Bristol, [93 RHEUMATISM Cured by COLMAN'S Concentrated per w. W-v^i35i«aee6«i6i: "t.

CHRISTMAS CHAT. r- ECHOES OF BYE-GONE DAYS. By "MURIEL." fI PEACE ON EARTH, GOODWILL TOWARDS MEN." This text has furnished, so to speak, the watchwords of the season ever since the nativity of the Saviour, whose advent we are commemorating-some with deep religious fervour, some with simple reverence com- bined with hearty appreciation of the social delights sanctioned by custom, and followed by most others keeping Christmas as a social festival, quite apart from its religious significance, but all with gladness of some kind:— Now, thrico welcome Christmas, Which brings us good cheer, Minced-pies and plum-porridge, < Good ale and strong beer: With pig, goose, and capon, The best that may bp, So well dotli the weather And our stomachs agree. Observe how the chimneys Do smoke nil nbout; The cooks are providing For dinner no doubt; But those on whose tables No victuals appear, 01), they may keep Lent All the rest of tli3 year. With holly and ivy, So green and so gay Wo deck up our bouses As fresh aq the day. With bays and rosemary, And laurel complete, And everyone now Is a king in conceit. LEAVE CARE BEHIND. An old writer, commenting on the season in its various aspects, says:— "Every face which you contribute to set tip ark ling at Christmas is a reflection of that goodness of nature which generosity helps to uncloud. Every holly bou;;h and lump of berries with which you adorn your houses is a piece of natural piety, as well ns beauty. Every harmless pleasure, every innocent mirth, however mirthful, every forgetfulness, even of serious things when they are only swallowed up in the kindness and joy, with which is the end of wisdom, is, not only lawful, but laudable." WHAT DIGESTIONS THEY MUST HAVE HAD. We do not keep the Christmas festival with the same rollicking spirit that dis- tinguished our progenitors, and, perhaps, lose nothing by our more refined method of celebrating it, including some alteration in the Christmas bill of fare which our ancestors loved. I think that the digestive powers of those who live at the close of the century would hardly tolerate the plum porridge that even so late as the year 1801 was served on the ohaplain's table at St. James's, taking precedence of all other dishes, far less the strong ale, served with toast, sugar, and spice, dispensed at day- break on Christmas morning by the old English gentleman to his household and retainers, The great sausage, too-the hackin-had likewise to be boiled before dawn; otherwise, two men servitors took the cook by the arms and ran her round the market- place to make her ashamed of her laziness. The Christmas pie at this time was a great nostrum, a most learned composition of neats' tongues, chickens,eggs, sugar, raisins, orange-ppel, and much spicery. The mince- pie, or shrid-pie, being a compound of the choicest productions of the East, is presumed to be representative of ths offerings of the Magi, who came from afar with gifte of gold, frarsliinceiice, and myrrti, A GIAKT PIE. Our ancestors of the eighteenth century must have had good digestions, one would think, if they could partake with gastric immunity of any such a Christmas pie as th&t which in the year 1770 wa4 brought from Ilowick to Berwick to be shipped for London for Sir Henry Grey, Baronet. The contents were as follow:—Two bushels flour, 201b. butter, four geese, two turkeys, two rabbits, four wild duoks, two woodcocks, six snipe, four partridges, two neats' tongues, two curlews, seven blackbirds, and six pigeons. A certain Mrs. Dorothy Patterson, housekeeper at Ilowick, was the compounder. The pie was nearly nine feet in circumference, and weighed about twelve stone. The monster pasty was neatly fitted in a case mounted on castors to facilitate its progress round the table. Afterwards the guests, one and all round the Yule- log, chanted carols or sang roundelays in honour of Bacchus and:the cook, or in praise of Christmas and its customs, So now is come our joyful'st feast; Let every man be jolly; Each room with ivy leaves is dres't, And every post with holly. Though some churls at our mirth repine, „ Round your foreheads garlands lwirie( jprown sorrow in a cup of wine, And let us all be merry. JJow all our neighbours' chimneys smoke, And Christmas blocks are burning, Their ovens they with baked meat choke, And all their spits are turning. Without the deor let sorrow lye, And if of cold it hap to die, We'Jl bury it in a Christmas pie, And evermore be merry. Then wharefore in these racirie daies Should we, I pray, be duller; N', let us sing some roundelays To make our mirth the fuller. England was merry England when Old Christmas brought his spoits apaln. 'Twas Christmas broached the nightingale, 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale. A Christmas gambol oft would cheer A poor illrtn's heart through half the year. THE CHIEF DISH. Few features of the ancient Christmas feast have survived in such perfect integrity as the boar's head. The soused boar's head of our forefathers was brought in with great pomp andtseremony, and headed the table as being the chief dish. The 11 brawne of the tusked swine" has been a marked feature of the Christmas board from time immemorial, and used, in its passage' froni the larder, to be pre- ceded by trumpeters, blowing many blasts, as if proclaiming the sovereignty of the dish. Oar ancestors, almost without exception, con- sidered Christmas in the double light of c. holy commemoration and cheerful festival. They also seemed eagerly bent upon making themselves] and everyone about them happy— a mosrcommendable example to follow. WHAT WOULD CHRISTMAS BE WITHOUT FIRE? I heartily agree with an old writer who says that at this season fire is the "great indispen- sable." A great blazing fire is the visible heart and soul of Christmas. It is the lar and genius of meeting. A huge heaped-up, over- heaped-up, all-attraoting fire-it is the proof positive of the season, the representative of all our warm emotions and bright thoughts, the glorious eye of the room, the inciter to mirth, yet the retainer of order, the amalga- mator of age :and sex, the univeral relish. Tastes differ on many points, but who gain- says a fire ? CHRISTMAS CUSTOMS^AND TRADITIONS. J Among customs observed on Christmas Eve by the Venetians is that of eating a pottage (horrid mess !) of oil, onions, paste, parsley, mjtSj cijrraftts, and caudied orange peel, from the partaking of which strange compound of sweet and savoury ingredients the Fates preserve me The 24th of December is among other reasons memorable for that, according to tradition, on Christmas Eve bold Ilobin Hood died, 1247. There are many interesting myths and legends connected with churohes which have been submerged or destroyed by landslip or earthquake. Once,'when visiting in Notting- hamshire, I was invited to join a party of friends on Christmas Day on an expedition to a valley near Raleigh, to test the validity of an old superstition, that the bells of a church destroyed by earthquake there many years before might on Christmas Day morning be heard to send forth a marry peal beneath the listener's feet. I need hardly say that wa harkened in vain for that mysterious melody gaid to herald, as it did in other years, the nativity of the Saviour, THE SEASON OF MERRIMENT—NOT oy SORROW. It is not possible to say muoh original about Christmas and its customs, but we never tiÿe of hearing about them when Christ- mas comes round. We all wish to please and to be pleased, and what does it matter if wa have to do a great deal of make believe occa- sionally P What though the ringing voices of carol singers pierce the heart with memories of other-perbaps, happier—days ? What though there be vacant places at the board, dear famiiiar faces missing from the household fireside ? Whatever be our several crosses and losses, afflictions, suffer- ings, anxiuiies, and disappointments, we have, one and all, common cause for rejoicing in that great event the anniversary of which we are about to celebrate, Let us, therefore, accept with patience whatever has taken place by the order of Providence, and try to think the best of the very evils that have happened. So shall we always be enabled to rejoice with those who rejoice, without selfish demonstration of our own possibly harder lot, I have ended my brief exordium now, and it only remains for me to clasp, figuratively, the hands of my readers, and wish them most cordially a very happy Christmas and a glad and prosperous New Year when it comes. GIVB ME SCENES THAT ARE BRIGHT AND CHEERFUL. The best way to make a room resemble winter is to hang a large white sheet on the wall behind the Christmas tree. Frosted evergreens in pots or single branches can be arranged with the sheet for background. I have also seen cotton wool twisted in the form of icicles, frosted, and then sewn to the edge of the sheet with holly sprigs and ever- greens to enhance the effect. The frosting powder can be bought almost anywhere. It is supplied at 30, Bow-street, Covent-garden, London, if not obtainable in the country. Bold effects are preferable to minute elabora- tion. A huge block of ice wreathed with berried holly is a seasonable decoration. I like warmth, brightness, sunshine, and their natural accessories. Outside, be it blinding rain and mud bogs, or cutting blasts with snow on the ground or in the wind, or Jack Frost in glittering dress-all conditions are possible, but. under all or either the guest at the Christmas board will, aa a rule, prefer an illusion suggestive of warmth and comfort rather than that which points to shivering limbs and frost-bitten noses, and possibilities of rheumatism, catarrh, consumption, with other and like consequences of seasonable weather according to an Englishman's experience of it. I would not banish the sirloin, plum pudding, or Christmas pie, neither the "loving cup" nor the traditional punch-bowl, for they are not inconsistent even with tropical scenery; but 1 experience a chill when I sit in a room where pictures representing winter are present, and I feel correspondingly exhilarated when walls are hung with sunny paintings of moors in all their autumn glory, of spring with all her! promise, of summer when the blazing sun expends its noontide force on meadow end upland, and the cattle shelter under wide- spreading trees or stand knee-deep in tho s silent pool. I am, perhaps, hvper-sensitive on this point. Should anyone desire, .how- ever, to carry out my suggestion, there is no reason to exclude the Christmas tree. It can be made an orange tree, and so further the illusion. rl he smaller gifts can be introduced in the rind of an orange carefully peeled, the fruit removed and then re-closed, and bound with coloured baby ribbon. Artificial oranges can be ma^e by cut- ting cardboard in sections and afterwards covering with orange colour material— nun's veiling or silk, if expense is not objeoted to. Slightly wadded, these imitation oranges, when rifled of their treasure, can be turned to account as pincushions. Perhaps these sug- gestions are a trifle too late to be available on Christmas Day; but Twelfth Day and New Year's Day soon follow, and there is so much hospitable entertaining at this season that I trust my hints may not be altogether thrown away. A SEASONABLE GIFT. I have before suggested a foot-warmer as a .9 suitable winter gift, and if it be true "Thi cold strengthens as the days lengthen," there is enough time before us to prove the value of such a seasonable offering. I have just seen a sexagonal model. The materials were of brocade, wadding, and lining of fur. An old fur cape provided the latter. The duplicate pieces of millboard wetf severally covered, and then joined at the part that formed the toe of the muff, the shorter sides right and left being joined up to the angle which marks the half of the muff, the upper corresponding pottion being left agape to admit the feet. I hope that I have made it clear that the edges forming the angles are not equal in length. Those at' the mouth and the toe. of the muff severally are somewhat elongated. THE GAME OF "LIFE." Among Christmas games more or less original is that called Life." "It is not a new game," cavils someone at my elbow, "andws are all playing it." We are well aware that existence is not a game at all, but very sober earnest, with far more tragedy than comedy in it. "But the game called Life is quite a different matter," I respond. The new pas- time is played upon a board with pieces which have prescribed moves. The rules in some respects resemble those that govern severally chess and backgammon, but Life is less absorbing than the former, and far more inte- resting ;tban the latter game, and has the peculiar fasoination and stimulus that pert,ains to most games of chance combined with skill. Each player of "Life" has a coloured pawn and a number of coloured counters of varied value. The board is divided into sixty-three sections, and the moves are determined by a teetotum. The first player spins, and the teeto- .7 or-, d tum, say, lands on the section marked "GoDd habits." The propeller then advances four, and takes two counters. The opponent then takes his turn. Should the teetotum stop on the square inscribed Sulks ■'—an unlucky go -the punishment consists of retrograde movement and the confiscation of counters. The players risk the possible accusation of many vices and follies, and have to suffer the mimic penalties attaching thereto. On the other hand, they may find themselves accre- dited with virtues totally unsuspected, re- ceivir.g the rewards thereof. The end of the mimic gan.o of "Life "is not the mournful end of the real game of life-for you do not die -and the winner rakes in the pool. IT HAS A GHOSTLY EFFECT. an aiiiusing- expemmnf J may tell niy readers that the throwing of salt upon burn- ing spirit will produce an effeot on the assembled company the reverse of lovely, but deoidedly striking. -Do, not allow children to be present, howgv^ THE INEVITABLE FCHRISTIIAS CAKE. A very rich Christmas cake is to be made as follows :-1 tlb. of flour, twelve eggs, lib.of sugar, lIb. of butter, I I lb. of candied peel, 2 sliced—orange, lemon, and citron, mixed; and two teaspoonfuls of good baking powder. Beat the sugar and butter together for half an hour; add the shred peel, beating it in by degrees; then the beaten eggs and the flour, sprinkled in little by little; and bake in a paper-lined, buttered tin. The cake will be spoiled unless the oven is of proper heat. Of this the cook will be the best judge, since it is a question none but an experienced oook can decide. Never turn a oake out of the tin on to a flat surface. A gridiron or some such basis is far better for the cake to cool upon.

CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS, The decking of churches, houses, and shops with evergreens at Christmas springs from a period far anterior to Christian times, and seems to have been derived from the custom prevalent during the Homan feast of Saturn- alia of decking the temples and houses with green boughs. When the Christians adopted this method of ornamentations, the ecclesias- tical councils in many places prohibited tho members of the Church to thus perpetuate a relic of pagan times. In the couxsa of time, however, this, like several other customs of similar origin, was introduced into and incorporated with several ceremonies of the church itself. In defence of this, the ecclesiastical authorities claimed that it was sanctioned by our Saviour, He having entered Jerusalem in triornph amid the shouts of the people, who strewed palm branches in His way. There is no doubt that the use of flowers, evergreens, and green boughs as a means of decoration is almost in- stinctive in human nature, and never more so than at Christmas,.the greatest festival of the year. Scarcely any nation, civilised or savage, is found with which it has not become more or less familiar. The Jews employed it in their Feast of Tabernacles; the ancient Druids and other Celtic nations hting up the mistletoe and green branches of different kinds over their doors to propitiate the evil spirits of the woods, and the llomans adopted a similar method of warding off the supposed evil influence of such spirits. The favourite articles for churca and house decorations at Christmas-time are holly and laurel, and some beautiful designs may be made of these. Ivy also makes a most attractive show when trained and twinedsbont the windows and other portions of a room. Wreaths and crosses of cedar, interspersed with pieces of holly bearing the bright red berries, make a most tasty and delicate deco- ration for the parlour or dining-room—in fact, so many pretty designs may be conceived by the gentle sex, that it seems useless to enumerate them here.

THE SPECTRE BRIDEGROOM. The following story of the Spectre Bride- groom is thrilling to a degree. Briefly, it is 9 this: Nancy Trenoweth, the heroine, was, as a matter of;course, young and beautiful, and was, moreover, almost as good as she was attractive, No wonder, then, that young Frank IJenine should have fallen desperately • in lore with her. Their parents, however, being much averse to the prospective match, took every means in their power to frustrate their assignations; efforts which, for some time, it is needless to say were unavailing. Before long, however, young Prank was more ff effectually disposed of, by being sent on a long voyage to the West Indies, which, it was hoped, might cure him bf his love sickness. For three long years Nancy yearned in vain for tidings of young Lenine, till it came about that one night, in a heavy gale, a huge merchantman went to pieces on the rocky coast not far from where her parents' cottage was situated. Now, among those who perished was her sailor lover, home- ward-bound to make her his bride. The find- ing of the body amongst the drowned, how- ever, was sc carefully concealed from her that, even on the day of the funeral, she.was un- aware of it. What followed ? That night when locking up, as was her wont, she peered out of the cottage door into the darkness beyond, and there, to her amaze- ment, she saw Frank, her long lost Frank, as she had so often before saw him, mounted on his favourite colt. Turning in his saddle he addressed her in his old familiar voice. IIo shouted to her to mount beside him, and as he did so lent forward to receive her. In a moment she had leapt into his arms and clasped him about the neck the better to secure her seat. And then, hey, presto they wt-re off at a breakneck pace before she could realise the horror of the situation she was in the clammy embrace of a spectro horse- man and mounted on a phantom horse,which was galloping at full speed towards the graveyard of that same old church where their marriage should have been solemnised—the ghost of her drowned lover hurrying her to the spot which had that day closed over his mortal remains. Happily, according to this quaint old Cornish legend, The village blacksmith intercepted them, and succeeded, by seizing her dress as she was being hurried past him, in saving her from being buried alive with the sprite of Lenine"; though it really mat- tered very little after all, as she only sur^ vived for two or three days from the horrors of that grim night ride.—7he Strand ,1 faja-ine-

Not What He Meant. DICK: Say, 13m, did yer ever turn your attention to literatoor ? BILL I should say so, DICK: What's the longest sentence yef ever run aoross ? „ -— .1j

[tnore than usually brilliant effort to impose on ijrour credulity." iyf Nothing of the sort," I said decidedly; J.¡ your idea is utterly absurd. How could any man—fool or sage-introduce Impressions into .jny mind while I slept P" Tom looked at me doubtfully, and was tiilent. iit I suppose you think," I pursued with i Increased indignation, that I drank more of :the brandy than was good for me; that this supposed humorist told me this tale, in which j reality and fiction were harmoniously blended, iand that then after a nap I woke up and thought I'd dreamt the whole rigmarole." I. Tom smiled. I'll admit some such thought (Sid cross my mind, old boy," he said cheer- jfully, and it wouldn't be such a monstrous j.thing, would it, if you did take an extra toothful after being half frozen to death in [the snow ? But there's another explanation: [-the fellow may have mesmerised or hypnotised I you, or whatever the latest development of Lthe craze is called, and so given you the im- Fpression of a dream. But, whichever way it tvras I wouldn't treat the matter seriously, if JL were you." The suggestion of hypnotism put a new thought into my mind. "Of one thing I am certain, Tom," I said earnestly, if my mind ^ras influenced in any suoh way it was not by ,the will of the living, but of the dead." £ Tom stared at me a moment, and then said abruptly: Massing was Kitty's cousin; she M, in fact, his next-of-kin and consequent |neiress, if it should be proved that his wife, to jstvhom his will left everything, died before ,-be did. At present she can't be found, and j^that is why the Grange is shut up, fur- jXtfohed just as it stands." ■S'&' She has disappeared, you mean ? Yes, she and Clymer disappeared together Lthe night Massing killed himself, and people fill think they eloped." en I'll bet you almost anything you llike, Tom," I said impressively, that .Kitty •owns Tolleybrook Grange at this moment, jfor there is not the slightest doubt in my rffiind that Norah Massing died by her hus- jband's hand. But what was known of her ,sifiter, for I take it for granted she had one ?" %v"les, she had one, and you've told her story accurately enough. Something unusual !&bout the windows of the Grange induced ipolonel St. Clere to have the house entered Lpn Christmas morning. They found Molly dead on her sister's bed, and the babv still alive in a basket on the hearthrug. lie's a [fine, strapping little fellow now, and old St. 'Clere hardly lets him out of his sight for a moment." :5r.!I And Massing, where was he p" "He had killed himself in one of the down- stair rooms; it was just as you have described, I'm not disputing that at all." ■t' See here, Tom," I said excitedly, if so jnuch of my ^dream was true, why shouldn't -all of it be P I shall not rest until I have (thoroughly investigated every circumstance (of it; and in Kitty's interests, if for no other reason, you ought to help me. Who has the keys of the Grange now F" ;1 St. Clere holds them as one of the execu- tors of the estate. But you know, dear boy, one naturally has a delicacy in mentioning the subject to him, and really it's rather a cock- and-bull sort of thing to intrude on him with, for dreams are not matter for any speoial sreverence in the present day." I I'm responsible for the tale with all its improbabilities," I said stiffly, and if you won't accompany me I shall go alone after breakfast and see if he will not take some "ttepa to prove, or disprove, the truth of what I tell him." ft Of course, Bob, I'll go, if you're set on it," Jom answered good humouredly. By-the- ,bye, the dog wasn't to be left out of the family determmation to create a nine dayi' wonder. You will hardly believe that he .walked back to Ballymoreen from Dublin alone, though how he found ilia way was a :myatery, for, of course, he was taken there i by train. Anyway, he disappeared from the house in Dublin the day after his master killed himself, and three weeks later he was prowling round the Grange. Ever since then he "has refused to leave it or make friends with anyone, but has picked up a living in devious ways, chiefly at night, and the villagers charge ■ him with all sorts of thefta. It is popularly supposed, too, that while Massing's ghost ;haunts the house, Roy will never leave it; in fact, many of them think him an emissary of the Evil One." V After this Tom took me to my room, and my valise having been brought since I had i myself arrived, with many apologies for the porter's inability to bring it through the snow on the previous night, I was able to make myself presentable before the bell rang for breakfast. ?'' It was a silent and uncomfortable meal, for 'even the pleasure of again meeting Kitty could not distraot my mind from my night's -adventure, and as soon as it was over I i worried Tom into ordering his dog-cart to be jgot ready that we might start without delay for Ballymoreen Park. Tom introduoed me to Colonel St. Clere, | who, a little to the former's surprise, treated my recital with the gravest attention, and jwhen I had finished promptly fetched the lkeys of the Grange and invited us to accom- ipany him to the house forthwith. i-i- I wish my story finished here, or that I bad ;had no part in the discovery which was alone ^needed to confirm the truth of the revelation pbf those bygone events whioh was made to nfne in my singular vision. Without hesita- tion, I led the way through long passages and [across the kitchen to the servants'-hall as I (I had seen it in my dream, and pointed out dhe boards which I desired to have removed. I even fetched the box of tools from the cup- board, from which I had seen Allan Massing jfetch them. When the boards were removed ('Tom's scepticism received a death-blow, ffor it was at onoe apparent to all of us that ucertain of the flagstones beneath had been taken up and re-set by unskilled hands. We removed them, and then, Tom with n "spade and I with a shovel, began as rapidly a» Twe could to throw up the soil, while Colonel ,St. Clere looked on with a face so white and -set that it might have been carved from stone. A few minutes' steady work and Tom sud- denly pulled up his spade, and looking ex- citedly, first at me and then at the old man opposite, said in a sharp whisper, Colonel, there's something here." t Yes, yes," answered St. Clere impatiently, M but what is I Let us see what it is § "Don't yon think we'd better get help?" suggested Tom nervously. 'v St. Clere made no answer. He sternly pushed Tom aside, and, taking the spade from his hand, began to throw up the earth with fevered energy. A minute later and between us we drew from this strange grave two skele- tons—the one of a man and the other of a woman—from which had disappeared^pvery atom of flesh and shred of clothing. A few articles of jewellery which we found at the bottom of the pit were all there was to prove that in these bones we had discovered all that now was mortal of St. Clere's beautiful daughter and the unhappy Felix Clymer. 4 • » | » » A few weeks ago, when Kitty and I came back from a wedding tour which had lasted over a year, we gave a house-warming party in Tolleybrook Grange. It has been ;%aodernised and altered, but is still the same ,h?ule in which I passed the one eventful of a very humdrum life, fit T.^ite my wife sits opposite me by 63 Witfe RggJiifeg j&gJgffl jjbg jpfflpaai .r of all our travels, stretched sleek and lazy at her feet. The past, though it influences the minds, as it has influenced the fortunes of Kitty and myself, has no terrors for us, and for the memory of the ill-fated Allan Massing we have ever a pitying and compassionate thought,