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PARS ABOUT PEOPLE.'

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PARS ABOUT PEOPLE.' The President's Love Story. None of us would desire, says The Week-End, save in the most sympathetic way. to draw aside the veil which hides his private life, and when I speak of his home conduct it is out of profound admiration for an exemplary husband and a man whose domestic hearth was the gate of happiness to his soul always. Mrs. McKinley and her husband fell in love with each other when he was a major and she a cashier at her father's bnnk. Both were teachers in a Sunday school, and they used to cross each other's paths, he on the way to the Methodist class- room, and she to take charge of the scholars at the Presbyterian Major McKinley thought that this should cease, and so he married the gracious girl at her own place of worship, appeasing his own religious convictions by having present and participating in the cere- mony his own Methodist minister. The Late Lord Morris. Lord Morris was conducing a trial in Cole. raine in which a gentleman sought damages from a veterinary surgeon for having poisoned a valuable horse. The issue depended upon the question of how many grains of a certain drug could be safely administered. The dispensary doctor proved that he had given eight grains to a man, from which it was to be inferred that 12 for a horse was not excessive. "Docthor, dear," said the Judge, "niver moind yer eight grains in this matter of 12. because we all know that some poisons are accumulative in effect, nn' ye may go to the edgo of ruin with impunity. But tell me this: the 12 grains—the 12 moind ye—wouldn't they kill the divil himself if he swallowed thim ? 1 don't know, my Lord," said the doctor, pompously drawing himself up I never prescribed for that patient." "Ah. no. docthor dear. ye niver did, more's the pity. The ould bhoy's alive still! The Missing Juror. When Lord Morris was Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas, in Ireland, a panto- mime song was in vogue entitled: Are ye there, Moriarty?" One day the court reas- sembled after luncheon, and it was found that one of the jurors, whose name was Moriartv, was missing. The criers and policemen shouted the name at the top of their voices, but there was no response. Meanwhile, the judge,instead of fretting and fuming, lay back in his chair, and began to lilt loudly enough to be heard all over the court: "Arc you there, Moriar-i-ty?" When the wandering sheep did return he was asked what had delayed him. 111 was a pint iv porther an' a pinny rowl, me lord, and I didn't mind the time." he explained. "You should know, sir, that this isn't the Rowls Court," said the chief, and the case proceeded with everyone, except the hapless juror, on the broad grin. A Millionairess. One of, if not the most popular and fashion- able of-matrons in New York society is Mrs. George Gould, who married George Jay Gould, the eldest son of Jay Gould, about 12 years ago. The marriage created quite a sensa- tion at the time, as Mr. Gould was considered to be one of the few wealthy young men in New York. His bride's family, whose name was Kingdon, were, on the contrary, far from wealthy, having met with reverses, and Mrs. Kingdon had placed her beautiful and talented daughter under the care of the late Augustin Daly, in whose company she gained no small amount of histrionic lame. Since her marri- age Mrs. Gould has always evinced the warmest interest in players and the stage. At the same time she has never, like so many suc- cessful aotresses who have married and re- tired, shown any desire to return to the foot- lights. Two years ago she played in a little comedy, acted in an improvised theatre, and made t'esuccessotthe evening. But it is only in amateur acting that Mrs. Gould now displays her talent behind the footlights to her friends. Mrs. Gould is a brunette, with a clear white complexion and large dark eyes, possessing a smile of singular sweetness and a most winning manner. She is very intellectual, and has travelled and studied a great deal. Mrs. Gould is greatly devoted to her four children, three of whom are boys, and always personally super- vises their education. King Humbert's Lady Higfa>Cook. Queen Helena of Italy is a Royal lady who enll cool, a. good diuner when required. At her father's curiously homelike and unpretentious Court in Montenegro..she acquired many delightfully unroyal ways, and knowledge of the art of cooking was not the least among them. Nikita, the old fashioned moun- tain Prince of Montenegro, insiHted-as, by the way, the German Emperor does by tradition—that all his sons and daughters should know some useful trade or profession. Helena became an excellent cook, skilled both in preparing "plain, roast, and boiled, and in the confection of the curious sweetmeats and articles of 'patisserie' for which Orientals have so decided a taste." King Humbert insisted on tasting his dishes, and liked them so well that one day in the palace at Naples he con- ferred on her with mock ceremony the title of "Lady High-Cook to the King of Italy." After this, whenever the old King and the Princess had a humorous quarrel in the course of their conversation together, the Lady High-Cook would clinch her argument by threatening to make no more pilaf, a favourite dish. whereupon the King would declare himself willing to swal- low dutifully any of his "dear daughter's" views if only he might still swallow also her excellent cookery. Stratford-on=Avon's High Sheriff. Sir Arthur Hodgson, who, in his capacity as High Sheriff of Straf I'ord-on-A von, unveiled the other day the memorial window in the Collegiate Church to Lieutenant Ford hum Flower, one of the "Warwickshire heroes of the War, is a survivor of the pioneers of Queens- land. Sir Arthur is now 83, but that matters little to him. and he will be a popular figure in Shakespeare's town for a long time yet. lie joined the Navy 70 3 ears ago, served in the old Canopus in China and o'her distant parts, left the sea at Sydney, married a daughter of the Chief Justice of New South Wales, ami in 1842 dived into the then wild Queensland Hush to make a home for hiinst-lI- and 11;8 young wife, Eton Vale, name 1 alter Hodgson's old school, has long been one of the linest station proper- ties ou the famous Darling Downs.

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