Barry Herald

WILLS AND BEQUESTS. Mr. Charles Grant Blairfindie Allen, of The Croft, Hindhead, and formerly of The Nook, Dorking, who died on October 25, aged 51 years, bequeathed the copyright of all his literary works issued in the name of Grant Allen, also the Consols and other securi- ties standing in the name of Grant Allen and the residue of his property, to his wife, Mrs. EHen Allen. His estate has been valued at £6155 3b. 3d. gross, including JE3500 19s. in net personalty. Mr. Phineas Cowan, of Linden-gardens, Hyde- park, and Mincing-lane, formerly an Alderman and a Sheriff oflhe City of London, who died at Buxton on October 22, aged 67, left property of the value of £43,895 17a. 8d. He appointed his son Lewis Phineas Cowan to succeed to his share in the part- nership business of J. and P. Cowan and L. Cowan and Sons, soapmakers and sugar refiners, of Ham- mersmith and Mincing-lane, and he gave to him so much of his capital therein as would amount to one- sixth of his net residuary estate, but the son must pay to his mother during her life interest at four per cent. on the said sum. and an annuity of jEaO to his son John Campbell Cowan, Mr. Cowan bequeathed to his wife JE500, the money and notes in the house, the cash at his private current account, and his lease- hold house with the furniture and domestic effects therein, and to his brother John £500. The residue of his, property he left on trust for his wife for life, and then to his children Lewis Phineas, David, Harry Douglas, Nina, Lily, and Evelyn, in equal shares, his son Lewis Phineas bringing into account the aforesaid share of capital. Mr. William Mortimer Maynard Farmer, of May- nardviile, Wynberg, Cape Colony, who died at 18, Bina-gardens, on September 30, aged 62 years, left an estate which hns been valued at 4d. gross, including net personalty of the value of £200,5 18s. 4d. By his will, which bears date March 21, 1898, he bequeathed to his grandsons Gerald and Brian Bernard £500 each, to his sons- in-law John Bernard and Sir Leslie each, to his daughters Enid Mortimer Bernard and Dame Elaine Maynard Falkiner £4000 each, to William George Anderson, named as an executor of the his indoor servants, £150, to his outdoor servants £100, and to Mrs. Farmer, the use and enjoyment of his house Maynardville. The tes- tator left his residuary estate in trust for his two daughters, but subject to the payment of one-half of the income to his widow. Mr. Joseph Stammers Garrett, of Blacklands Hall, Cavendish, Suffolk, who died on August 27, be- queathed £1:?OO each to his children, Lucy Eliza, Alice, Mrs. Ellen Charlton, Joseph, Isabella Helena, Blanch Edward, Mrs. Elizabeth Samuel, John, William Henry, and Alfred Ernest; his premises, called the Lecture Hall, the organ in the Cavendish Congregational Chapel, and JE1200 to bis daughter, Henrietta; £õO each to the Rev. — Pattendon and the Rev. Samuel Herben; and a few smalI legacies. His residuary estate is to be divided between his children. The value of the estate has been sworn at £27,506 7e. 7d. Mr. Richard Musgrave Harvey, of Portland-place and Mincing-lane, deputy chairman of the Public Works Loan Board, a Commissioner Income-tax, and a director of several companies, who died on November 10; appointed as executors of his will, dated March 21, 1893, with a codicil of November 22, 1894, his wife and his brother. He gave to his brother, the Rev. Charles Musgrave Harvey, to his sister, Mrs. Caroline Louisa Trotter, £ 1000« to bis nephew,. Ernest Musgrave Harvey, £250; to the Establishment for Invalid Ladies, 90, Harley- street, £.100; to each of his children to his wife the residue of his property. The estate has, been rallied at £42,829 16s. 4d., including net per- sonalty of Mr. Frank Hudson, of Godden-green, near Seven- oaks, a member of the firm of Hudson Brothers (Limited), Ludgate hill, London, who died on October 26, left property of the value of 5ø..lOd.. including net personalty of 15s. 6d. He gave to his brother Anthony Hudson .200, to John James Griffiths £250, and to his, wife, Mrs. Mary Walton Hudson, £1000 and his household furniture and effects, carriages and horses, and during her widowhood the use and enjoyment of bis. freehold property at Godden Green and an annuity of £4000. Should she again marry, £1000 per annum is to be paid to her for the remainder of her life. Subject thereto his property is to be held as to one-sixth on sundry trusts for his son Harold Hudson, and one-sixth each for his children Gilbert Hudson, Sydney Hudson, Leonard Lovell Hudson, Ernest John Hudson, and Mrs. Julia Speyer. The testator made no further pro- vision for his son Frank, who is a shareholder and director of Hudson Brothers (Limited). Ernest George Henry Arthur, sixth Earl of Lis- burne, of Crosswood, Cardiganshire, who died on September 4, left property of the value of £21,800 ,48. 7d., including net personalty of £10.3,17 10.. 8d. By his will dated September 2,1899, be save to his wife, Evelyn Countess of Lwburne, daughter of Mr. Edmund tVobyn, of Huntley Manor, Gloucester- shire, to his nephew Charles Henry Hall Monro, £100 and a pair of pas; to bis estate agent Robert Gardner, £200 to Frederick, Bichard Roberts, £100; and for distribution among his employes, £100 His furniture, pictures, plate, &c., are to devolve as heirlooms, and the residue of his personal estate is to be held on trust for his son Ernest Edmund Henry, now seventh Earl of Lis- borne, until he attains nis majority. The executors are Mr. Wflmot Ingli*<rJonM, of Derry Ormond, Cardigan, and lb. Frederick Bohcprts, solicitor, Aberystwyth. Colonel Lewie de Teiisier Provost, of £ lfords,. Hawkhurst, who died on October 26 last, aged 55 Srs, left estate which has been valued at £ 44,257 9d. gross, including £ 31,824 15*. in net person- alty. The testator bequeathed £500 to the vicar and Churchwardens of St. La whence, Hawkhurst, for the purpose of providing a new organ for the church. He bequeathed to Charles Easott £20, and to each of his servants of ave yeNM* service JE5, and he devised hie freehold estate at ElfOrds and all other his real estate to his wife absolutely, and he left his residuary estate in trust to pay the income thereof to Mrs. Pro- vost during her life and, subject to her life-interest, fOr his two children. Mrs. Sarah Ann Weldon, of Morden Hill, Lewisham, widow of )(1'. Charkft Weldon, of Cheap- side, Warehouseman, who died on July 18, gave to the London City Mission to the Church Mis- sionary Society te the Be8t, Bat- oliffe-hichway, £200; to the Mildmay Mission to the to the assistant clergy fund of Holy Trinity, Greenwich, .SMO; to her eon Edward JE4500 and her freehold premises, Brooklands, Reigate, and I. Selborne-road, Brighton; to her son Walter £4500 and her freehold messuage, Gutter-lane; and legacieS and annuities to herdaush., friends, and servants, Her residuary estate is to be held on trust for her daughters, Mrs. Ellen Waacb, Mn. Mary Toomer, Mrs. Lilian Goold-Adams, Ada EliMbetb and Ether Gay, and the children of her daugher, Mrs. Gather rine Myles. The estate has been valued at £ 105,112 I* 10d..

THE culture of perfume-bearing plants and treao, known as "eeent farming," is a profitable industry in Australia, where the soil is particularlysuitable for the cultivation of such plants. TIIB sandwich-man Will probably, before loag, he ousted by the more attractive "sandwich-woman." A few stray specimens have already made a successful Jppearwoe in various jwrts of London. UNCLE DAN. A grey and wintry afternoon, and although not yet three o'clock, night seemed ominously near. Are you going to Ludbrook's bank now, Uncle Dan ?" No; to-morrow will be time enough, Marion, to attend to that business." "To-morrow ? Surely you wont wait 1 I Bee danger on every side, sbe insisted. Dan Rafferty was standing over the fire in a private sitting-room in one of the big City hotels. He had arrived in London with his niece from the Cape barely an hour before. Danger Why, who's to know what I've got locked up in my bedroom in this hotel-" Hush! Why not step round to the bank before closing time and-" Can't be done. I should miss my friend, Captain Osborn—bless his heart!—as sure as fate. I'm off to Greenwich-by the first train I can catch. He'll have started weighing anchor already, I reckon." And with a glance out of the window at the gather- ing gloom, he took a hurried leave of Marion and went out. » The night closed in—it was getting late, and Marion Desmond, who sat brooding near the fire, grew troubled at the tardiness of Dan Rafferty's re- turn. She had begun to dread that something serious had happened, when footsteps in the corridor caught her ear. There was a tap at the door—a servant entered and handed her a card. Mr. Ludbrook ? Pray show him in." Her large dark eyes beamed with delight. A,tall, good-looking young fellow came in, and when she had greeted him with both hands pressed in his, they sat down side by side. Ludbrook was the first to speak. Anything the matter, Miss Desmond ? You look tired—worried. Where's Mr. Rafferty" Philip Ludbrook had made the acquaintance of Dan Rafferty and his niece at Cape Town; they had returned to England in the same ship, and during the voyage Marion and Ludbrook had become greatly attached. I am worried," said the girl, after a moment's pause. Uncle Dan was in one of his stubborn moods about that box this afternoon." Ludbrook exclaimed: "Is it possible he has neglected to see my father at the bank this after- noon?" Yes, Philip. He went to Greenwich about three o'clock." Philip Ludbrook began to pace the room. Miss Desmond," said he, your uncle's a foolhardy man. There's no denying it." Suddenly he looked round and added, Have you his bedroom key ?" "No. You think Ludbrook nodded significantly. I'll ring," said Marion. There's a master-key, of course. We'll make sure at once." The key to Rafferty's room was quickly procured, and the moment they had entered the apartment Marion Desmond knelt down in front of a large trunk, which she hastened to unlock with a duplicate key given to her by Uncle Dan. There was a moment's pause. Then she looked round and whispered— The tin box is gone Philip Ludbrook's face expressed no surprise. Of course," said he, answering her in a whisper, he's the man to do it—the very man to carry about in his pocket a box the contents of which must be worth ninety thousand pounds Rafferty and Ludbrook had occupied the same cabin on board ship, and one memorable night: during the voyage the colonist had taken a tin box from his sea-chest and exhibited its con- tents—a quantity of valuable diamonds—to his friend. He had then expressed an earnest wish to deposit the box at Ludbrook's bank on reaching London, and Ludbrook had readily agreed to accom- pany him there. But upon landing, as it chanced, the young banker found that a business matter com- pelled him to visit Glasgow, and consequently he-had ended by giving Rafferty a letter of introduction to his father instead.. He has taken the box to Greenwich with him in his small valise," said Marion, sweeping the room with her eyes. It's most reckless." Ludbrook glanced at his watch. I would go to Greenwich and look after him—I would go at. once, but," said he, I've only this moment reached town, and my father's waiting to see me on impor- tant business. But I'll come to you, Marion, as soon as I've seen my father, when I hope—I feel sure—Mr. Rafferty will have got back." "Thank you, Philip. You're a true friend." "Nothing more ?" said be, seizing her hand. Marion turned away, and a minute later the young banker had sprung into a cab and was being driven in the direction of Portland-place. Young Ludbrook was beginning to grow weary of pacing his father's study when the banker came in. He was a slim-built man of sixty, with keen, restless eyes and a quick manner. My boy, I'm glad to see you back," said he cor- dially. "Our agents in Glasgow could do nothing ?" "Nothing, sir?" said Philip with concern, "not even a paltry hundred thousand pounds." "Most vexatious. Why, in less troublous times we could have raised half a million." Well, father," said young Ludbrook, who was a junior partner in the banking house, don't let U8 lose heart. Let us trust no crisis will come." "Yes—my sole hope is what's that The cry of a midnight news-hawker had caught his ear. The sound fell close under the study window which gave out upon Portland-place. Murder!" The hawker's sepulchral tone alone made night seem hideous; but the words he was reiterating made it seem more hideous still. Great diamond robbery in a Greenwich express I" Young Ludbrook leapt from his chair. "Great heaven can it be?" The banker had locked over his shoulder and fixed his penetrating glance upon the closely-curtained window while asking, "What's that?" And he never altered his look or attitude when his son rushed headlong from the room. But an inscrutable smile seemed gathering over his close-shaven face under the yellowish light of the shaded lamp upon the table. What could it forebode ? It's Rafferty!" cried young Ludbrook, entering' breathlessly, a newspaper grasped in his hand;1 and the man who has killed and robbed him hui escaped!" Ah! tell me about it." Philip hurriedly related all that he knew concern- ing the colonist—how they had become intimate during the homeward voyage and how the box of stolen diamonds had been valued at a big price. And then, bidding his father good-night," he drove off in all haste to Marion's hotel; for his one desire was to console and befriend the girl whom he passionately loved. Days went by. Dan Rafferty, it was learned, had been found in a second-class carriage of a Greenwich train stone dead, his valise cut open, and the con- tents—reported to be a small tin-box of valuable diamonds—spirited away. No trace of the culprit had come to light. One morning, before starting for the bank, Philip went to his father's room to ask him for the key to his private safe in the bank-parlour, as certain docu- ments, which Philip knew were kept there, were urgently needed. The banker was ill in bed. He was in a sound sleep but the key Philip required lay upon the dressing-table. It was attached to a bunch of keys never yet entrusted to anyone—his own son excepted. Philip took up the keys and went softly out. More than an hour was devoted to urgent matters of business that morning before young Ludbrook could spare a moment for unlocking the safe. But he found the moment at last, and stepping into the bank-parlour—a room given over long ago to docu- ment-boxes, and old ledgera-ho hastily placed the key in the lock. The key turned; the safe-door swung noiselessly open, when an object inside the safe caught Philip's eye which forced a low cry from his lips. It was Rafferty's tin box I Philip had laid his hand upon it, had opened it and discovered the wealth of diamonds within:—for the padlock had been removed—when be Was greatly startled to see a figure—the figure of the banker— standing with a hand upon the door. "Sir! why, what-" Close my safe!" The banker was intensely pale and irritatad. He staggered forward a pace, clutching at the high back of a chair to keep himself from falling. Close my safe," he reiterated, inatantl, How dare you take away my keys r II But, father, look what's here f It's the box-I oan swear to it—the one of which my poor friend Was robbed in—in the Greenwich train!" The banker pressed his hand to his head, his keen eyes half closed. He stretched out his nervous fingers towards his son. The keys—give them back to me, I say!" Philip had by this time relocked the safe. He now gave the bunch of keys to his father. The banker took them with dreadful eagerness and sank back into the chair. Philip Ludbrook stood speechless. Was it possible that his father had taken part in the crime of the Greenwich exprels "f Impossible! He would never believe it. And yet At this moment there was a tap at the door. See who's there," said the banker, who was now fast recovering his self-possession. Philip opened the door, and the hall-porter handed him a card. After glancing at it he looked hesi- tatingly at his father. Miss Marion Desmond The banker nodded. Let her be shown in." Marion came in, and when Philip had made the two acquainted, she said: I've received some strange news, Philip! I've come direct from the lawyers to tell you about it. Will you glance through this ?" She handed young Ludbrook an oblong letter. He quickly mastered its contents, and at a sign from Marion passed the document over to his father. This document went to show that a sailor, who had lately taken his own life, had fully confessed to the murder of]Rafferty. They had been fellow-passengers from the Cape, and the sailor's one thought had been to possess himself of the treasure. But he em- phatically assorted, in his confession, that upon cutting open the valise he had found it empty. Miss Desmond," said the banker, looking slowly up from the deposition, I think, if you will allow me, that I can account for the fact that the man dis- covered nothing in Mr. Rafferty's valise." You amaze me, sir! How ? But pray speak." I'll be as brief as possible." He leant back in his chair and looked thoughtfully at a paper-knife which he had taken from his desk. Upon the afternoon of the day on which the crime was accom- plished," said he (I think it was shortly after three o'clock), Mr. Rafferty paid a visit to this bank." Marion uttered a cry of surprise. He barely remained," he went on, more than five minutes. But he left his tin box to the care of one whom he had every reason to trust! Yet it so chanced that upon the day in question he could hardly have placed his diamonds in worse hands. The interview—the whole transaction—was unwitnessed. Mr. Rafferty was killed, his diamonds reported to be cut from his valise and Carried off. Could the trusted man resist such a chance? The banking- house to which he was attached was threatened with disaster; thousands of pounds could be raised on these diamonds, and he resolved to act promptly." The banker paused far a moment, twisting the paper-knife round in his hands. He resolved to act promptly; but illness over- took him—the bank crisis fortunately passed over without bringing trouble upon the house—and the wretched, trusted man has now only one hope, one desire left—forgiveness!" Marion rose and stepped impulsively towards Philip Ludbrook's father: "Not another word—I entreat! You are freely forgiven." Philip's father never entered his bank again, and Philip became sole active partner. He and Marion now met every day; and when the following year she became Philip's wife, Dan Rafferty's wealth— amounting to nearly half-a-million—was added to the capital of Ludbrook's house.

SPURGEON'S TABERNACLE. By a notable coincident just 50 years have elapsed since Sir Morton Peto laid the foundation stone of the Metropolitan Tabernacle, and the 18th of December was the jubilee since the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon began a long campaign of preaching at Exeter Hall, during which over £30,000 was col- lected, to open debt-free the spacious building which is so honourably associated with the history of lattet-day non-conformity in London. There is suf- ficent reason (remarks the Daily Telegraph) for re- calling these facts in connection with the rapid pro- gress that, is now being made in rebuilding the vast edifice since the damage wrought to it by the dis- astrous fire of 1898. Few, indeed, of the thousands who daily pass the handsome fagade—almost the only portion of the stonework that was not injured and weakened-have any idea of the magnitude of the operations proceeding within, or that by May or June next there will be reopened for divine worship a building line for line as large as the former one, only better planned, more handsomely adorned, and more adequately equipped in every way. For several months past trn congregation have met in the lower hall. where there is seating accom- modation for 2000. Here all the fittings are in dark pitch pine, there is a complete installation of electric lighting, and in loftiness, ventilation, and other details this is a great improvement on its original. The upper part, or main hall, is at present a con- fused maze of scaffolding and iron girders, for nothing save metal and concrete i. being employed, but the workmen have already begun the roofing, and their only hindrance arises from delay in the de- livery of the iron work on account of pressure of contracts throughout this industry. It may safely be said that Mr. Sporgeon's person- ality has stamped an nnique character upon the tabernacle and the place it fills in the religious world. The young preacher, with his unconventional methods, his homely wit, and power arresting attention, had been able to fill the Surrey Music Hall, and had preached to one of the vastest congre- gations ever brought together when he addressed over 23,000 people at the Crystal Palace on the day of National Humiliation and Prayer for the Indian Mutiny. One of the first things, however, that he recognised was that if the work of evangelising which he had so dearly at heart was to be carried on, men must be trained to it, and thus the Pastors' College was one of the earliest offshoots of his preaching, and is, indeed, older than the tabernacle itself. Through this over 1000 men have passed, and a list of their spheres of labour is interesting reading, for they are to be found in all our Colonies, in the United States, up the Congo, in the West Indies, in India, China, Japan, the Falkland Islands, and South America. 1hen, too, there is the Stockwell Orphanage, pro- viding for. something like 500 little ones, of a clafs socially somewhat higher than is gener- ally to be found ia such institutions, and in which many of the old-fashioned ideas of barrack life and discipline and hideous uniform are broken down. But perhaps one of its great sources of influence has been due to its complete aloofness from controversial politics, though at the time of the American War of North and South pone upheld more stoutly the cause of justioe for the slave. But there has always been an atmosphere of robust, British common sense about the tabernacle, which was never more forcibly illustrated than in Mr. Spurgeon's vigorous reply to certain of the "unco guid" who saw perdition in tobacco and wished him to forego it for himself and thoae under his training. Gloomy persons were not wanting to predict that with Mr. Spurgeon's death the one great link of unity would be withdrawn, that dissensions would arise in the congregation, and that the great influence of the tabernacle would diminish. Those prophecies are unfulfilled. To-day the tabernacle has an adult mem- bership of over 4000, and in connection there are 21 missions and 25 Sunday-schools, with nearly 9000 scholars and 676 voluntary teachers. Towards the heavy cost of building, which was just £45,000, by far the greater sum is already secured, and only about JE5000 remains to be raised. For that, Mr. H. Ford, as chairman of the building committee, is ask- ing for assistance, inasmuch as Mr. Spurgeon's ser- mons are read i all parts, while his name is a house- hold word to thousands, and the congregation itself, has done so much. It is not, as the Rev. T. Surgeon and Mr. Ford both admit, a very opportune moment to make an appeal, but they feel that many are greatly interested in what may fairly be called the chief memorial of a great and world-know* man, and will be glad to be informed as to the financial progress that the movement is making. Mrs. Spurgeon, who has done so much in developing the charitable work of which the tabernacle is the centre, has herself said that the rebuilding should hold pre- eminence in the affections of those who valued and respected her husband, and that to many will be its ultimate word of commendation.

THII new edition, for 1900, of that marvellous com- pilation The Post Office London Directory "—Kelly's mammoth Red-book—has now been published. It carries on with admirable precision down to the latest moment the perfected plan of expansion which has made the work the characterisation of reality, covering 3317 pages of cleverly tabulated reference, matter, besides a large addendum of commercial announcements. The special extensious for the cec tenary edition of last year, which were much appre- ciated by those concerned in London suburban dis- tricts, are permanently continued; and interesting notes, on the changes in London topography which ¡ .appeared in the 1899 issue are also again given, and j should prove useful to those wishful to furbish them- j selves up concerning the changed landmarks of the metropolis. The great directory avea out of its ken no one dwelling or engaged within the thickly- I peopled London area extending trwm Kensington on the west to Cubitt Town on the east, and from Kil- burn in the north to New Cross in the south and it may safely be claimed that it has not. nor ever had, any parallel in the publications of the world. The classification is as simple as it is well thought out, and, indeed, leaves nothing at all to be desired. We note that in February an initial iasue will be pub- lished by Kelly's of a Suburban Directory," embrac- ing the constantly increasing and important Met beyond the boundaries covered by the big Red-book. Uhbkii the .title, The Problem of South Africa Unity," Mr. George Allen will publish in the course of the next few days the last of Mr. Worsfold's lectures on England in South Africa, delivered at the Imperial Institute. In addition to the text of the lecture, the volume will contain notes on questions of native administrations, on the political reconstruc- tion after the war, and on the question of fed- union as it affects the interests of the several Colonies and States. It will also contain statistics of popu- lationrevenue, and other matters.

THE "rOMANS WORLD. Flan!tsus (says the Evening News) require care Ï8 their washing to prevent shrinking and keep them soft. Make a strong suds of some pure white soap and water as hot as the hand can bear it, put in the fiannels, and let them lie twenty minutes. A flannel should not be rubbed, but drawn through the hands until it seems perfectiy clean. PREPARE another tub of water, not using quite at much soap, and when the flannels are taken from the first water drop them into the second water, press through that, and put them into warm water, slightly blued. Carefully wring the flannels out of the last water, shake them well, and dry as quickly upoaaible. taking care not to hang them where they will freest when drying. Wiiek sufficiently dry, iron the flannels and hang them unfolded until well aired. Flannels should not be rolled up when dry and laid on one side to tn ironed later. Old, thin under-flannels, too far gone for other use, may be cut into tiny pieees with which to stuff cushions and soft pillows. Pearl and other powders are much more generally patronised in everyday life (says the London Journal) than is suspected. Very often they are so skilfully applied as to be almost undetectable. but they can always be discovered by looking at the face in a aidt light, when there will be seen a certain dull uniformity of tint, the effect resembling that of frosted silver, as compared with polished silver, instead of a satiny appearance that comes from a natural moistuxv of the skin, varied by the soft down upon it. Powders are made of a variety of substances, the vegetable ones being the most harmless, thpeB containing mineral ones being highly injurious. Amongst the first named are rice, wheat, and potato starch, and the latter include such in- gredients as mercury, arsenic, lead, oxide of bismuth, &c. There is much variety of opinion with regard to the latter substance, popular prejudice being decidedly against, its nse whilst some skin specialists affirm that it is entirely free from anything that can harm the complexion. A French writer on the subject says that all powders containing ohalk, talc, bismuth, alabaster, oxide of zinc, &c., are mineral powders, and are indeed mineral paints disguised under attractive names. They differ from the lattei only in that they are generally harmless, being very seldom mixed with poisonous substances, such as, for instance, white lead, &c." Violet powder is one of the most simple of powders, and is composed of six parts of wheat starch and one of powdered orris root. These Jare mixed together and scented with lemon, bergfmot, and clove. Frequently wheat starch is used alone, and pDudre de rif is rice starch scented to taste). Pearl powder is a mixture of bismuth and chalk, or zinc and chalk, and the drawback to this is that the zinc and bismuth gradually turn black when exposed to emanations from the skin, or in the atmosphere of a crowded room. In the daytime it has a bluish appearance, which gives a somewhat un- natural colour to the complexion. Mineral powders adhere much better to the skin than do vegetable ones,; hence, perhaps their employment in so many advertised kinds. Rice powder has very little adherence, but corn starch forms the base of nearly all face powders. This, and indeed all, is highly ab- sorbent, and takes up not only any superfluous moisture, but also the natnral oil of the skin, and this is why its daily and persistent use dries up the skin and diminishes its softness and pliancy. If this were onlv done occasionally, the skin would re- sume its natural condition as soon as its application was abandoned. A really pure powder is sometimes beneficial. TJlEtt!i- is no doubt that many of the colds which, people cateh commence at the feet. 80 to keep theM extremities warm, therefore, is to effect an insurance against the endless list of disorders which spring out of a slight cold. The first and golden rule ia, never be tightly shod—boots or shoes when they fit closely prevent the free circulation of the blood by pressure; when on the contrary, they do not embrace the foot to firmly, they get fair play, and the space left between the boot and stocking gets a good supply of warm air. The second rule is one much neglected, I fear, and is—never sit in damp shoes. It is often supposed that unless .shoes are positively wet it is unnecessary to chango them while the feet are at. rest. This ie a great fallacy, for when the least dampness is absorbed into- the sole, in its evaporation it absorbs the heat frons the foot, and thus perspiration is dangerously checked. Any person may prove this by trying the experiment of neglecting the rule, and the feet will feol cold and damp after a few minutes, although, 0& taking off the shoe and examining^it, it will appear to be quite dry. Pearl-barley WATER is an excellent sick-roonr drink, and one that we ought to have a recipe for. Many doctors strongly advocate the use of it in ill. ness, and frequently I find people totally ignorant ao to how it should be made. Here is my recipe Simmer half a teacupful of pearl-barley in a quart of water for two hours or more; stir it jftst enough to prevent it from sticking to the china-lined saucepati; strain, and pour into a jug for use. Warm the quantity as you require, and flavour with lemon, and sweeten. As an infant's food barley-water is greatly esteemed, and should be given in the proportion of One part of milk to two parts of barley-water. This is especially valuable for children of costive habits. Jerseys knitted by your own nimble fingers -(obeerves the Sun) are considered rather more knowing than even those that are knitted at your express order. Those of white and clear scarlet are preferred to other colours. They are knitted with large needles in a heavy cable stitch, and have the high rolled-over collars or a round neck, with which linen collars and stocks are worn. The moat suit- able hats to go with these are the Tam Obanten. which have now returned to the field, and are con- sidered extremely good form. An attractive dancing cape is intended to completely envelop the figure. It is circular in shape, of almost dolman tightness. Attached to it is a picturesque hood in which the com- fort of A lofty collar and warm head covering is com- bined..L A BERLIN medical paper points out the influent* of the veil, so commonly worn by women in winter, in producing redness of the nose. This effect is said to be due partly to the mechanical action of the rough texture upon the delicate skin, and partly to the influence of the watery vapour which collects and condenses within its texture. It is suggested that the treatment consists in discarding the veil as a first measure; but in deference, we suppose, to the exigencies of fashion in regard to fluffy hair, it ia recommended that when the use of a veil is necessary it should not extend lower than the orifices of the nose, so that the watery vapour from tht breath should not be confined by it. We do not think (the Sun says) that ladies will give up wearing veils even with bonnets, but perhaps the fear of red noses may encourage them in their preference fo* hats. Certainly a veil decending from the brim of a hat and tucked under the chin is a more reasonable arrangement than that of having one drawn tightly across the face and compressing the nose, as is so often done the wearers of the things which are, we believe, still called bonnets. In fact, we are not altogether sure that a good deal might not be said in favour of a properly- arranged veil, leaving plenty of air-space around the face, even from a sanitary point of view. In the country it is, of course, another matter but consider- ing the filth which must enter the mouth in the course of a walk in town upon a dusty day, the slight re-breathing of the air which the preeenoe of the veil involves might be more than compensated for by the increased freedom from the grosser kinds of dirfc which it should ensure. THAT Lady Sarah Wilson had been made prisoner by the Boers created quite a sensation in high quarters. She is well-known (a lady writer in the Globe says) as a member of the smart set, and she was invariably one of the beat dressed women wherever she went. The youngest daughter of the seventh Duke of Marl- borough, she is aunt to the present Data. Her sisteN are the Duchess of Roxburghe. Ledy Wimborne, Lady Tweedmouth, and Lady Georgiana Curson. Lady Sarah ie a fine horsewoman, and a well-known follower of the Quorn. Her exquisitely neat turn- put was always matter for adsMnng comment in the neighbourhood of Melton. When going out to South Africa she evidently piwnded herself with a maid who was a horsewoman, too, for their exploit in cover- ing so many mi)e8 of the veldt on horse- back points to their being accomplished equestriennes. Lady Sarah went out to South Africa before war appeared imminent, ostensibly on a trip, but her husband, Captain Gordon Wilson, who is in the Boyal Horse Guards, like a great many other English officer*, found himself mighty adjacent" to the fighting when it did begin, either by accident or jjoiign. He is the only son of the late Sir Samuel VFHson, an Irishman who made a huge fortune and rose to a high position in Australia. The Captain began his career as an Eton boy by knocking up with the handle of his umbrella the pistol hand of a would-be assassin of the Queen, thereby probably saving her Majesty's most precious life. He is a very popular man in his regiment and out of It, end is a th<*fougifc iportsmao.