The Merthyr Express

POET'S CORNER. "A SPIRIT OF LOVE. A spirit of Love, with Love's intelligence, Maketh his sojourn alway in my breast, Maintaining me in perfect joy and rest; Nor could I live an hour, wore he gone theftca; Through whom my love hath such full perman- ence That thereby other lovee seem dispossest I have no pain, nor am with aighs oppr&ss'd, So calm is the benignant influence. Because this spirit of Love, who speaks to me Of my dear Lady's tenderness and worth, Says: More than thus to love her seek tnou not, Even as she loves thee in her wedded thought; But honour her in thy heart delicately; for this is the most blessed joy on earth. •Noffo Bonaguida (trs. Rossetti).

EXILED. Alone I stand beside the sea, The long waves breaking at my test; So breaks my heart anew for thee With each reverberating feet. I watch the great ships slowly dip Below the far horizon's rim; And from mine eyes the salt tears drip, And all the Orient grows dim. I lay a shell close to mine ear To list to what it has to tell; Thine only is the voica 1ar, Sweet as somo faint, far Sabbath belL Upon an alien shore alone, An exile from my home and thee! Above the waves' sad monotone, God speaks, "And there was no more sea." Hedderwick Browne.

HER VENGEANCE BY E. R. PUNSHON. Author of "The Choice," "The Spin of the Coin," etc., etc. CHAPTER XXIII—THE EXPERIMENT. Still smiling, this strange-featured old man rose to his feet. "My ex peri me ti' is nearly finished now," he said; "but for completion your help is neces- sary. I have found it interesting, though." He turned to Dodd, and took an envelope from his desk and handed it to him. "You can go," he said. Dodd stood for a moment as if hesitating, and there was something strange in the look he gave at Mr. Hetherington and Hugh. Per- haps old Mr Siddle noticed this, for he pointed to the door with a gesture of impatience and command. Clutching fast the envelopo the old man had given him, Dodd left the room; yet once again, on the very threshold, he paused to give his two recent companions an ambigu- ous and yet eager look, :I.S if there was some- thing that even a this last moment be would like to tell them. But without speaking, he closed the door and went, and they heard his steps as he descended the stairs without. Mr. Siddle went to the window and stood there and watched him come ou balow and pass through the two wire fenoes tc where, at the gate of the outer fence, a negro was waiting with a horse and buggy. In this Dodd took his place and drove towards the Dorth-ea.st-not towards Athens—at a great speed. Siddle watched him for a few minutes till the immensity of the prairie had swallowed him up, and then he turned to Hugh, and to Mr. Hetherington, with whom. he was now alone. "I hate a man who will and who won't," he said. "But I have waited a long time for you." "And your experiment?" asked Mr. Hether- ington, unable to disguise his eager impatience. "The experiment is on the verge of comple- tion," returned the old man with his chilling and uncanny smile. "You must go with me to my laboratory now to assist me conclude it. Perhaps you are surprised I chose men of your race to help me, but I have always had a fellow-feeling for negroes. Nature played your people the same 6ort of jest in giving you black faces as she played in giving me no nose." "Is the laboratory through there?" asked Mr. Hetherington, pointing to a doo^ in oo« ««Knar of the room. „ "Patience, patience," smiled Si; "patience for a little time, and thEm-no more need for patience. Yes, I prefer blacks to whites. My own people always thought my deformity-I was born as I am now, noseless—an excellent joke, and when my wife died, and I had no longer a motive for facing the ridicule of the world, I came here where I could work in peace. It is a lonely spot." "I am sure it has been a great misfortune to you," eaid Mr. Hetherington; "but about your experiment we are to help you in 7" "Rather the experiment to which you are a necessity," replied the old man. "It has oniy been waiting for you." He motioned to tnem to follow him, and went into the room adjoining. This was a large apartment, fitted up as a laboratory and provided with many appliances of which neither Hugh nor hie uncle understood much. But in one corner there stood a furnaoe burning with a steady glow. It took the attention of both Hugh and his uncle at once, and Mr. Hether- ington caught hold of Hugh's arm as if to sup- port himself. "Is that it?" he said. "Yes," said Siddle quietly. "I am making diamonds there." "Making diamonds—oh!" muttered Mr Heth- erington, and his mouth was very dry. "Ah, you would never have thought of that, would you?" said Mr. Siddle again with his terrifying smile. Hugh leaned over and whispered in his un- cle's ear. "There is danger here," he said. "Yes, you are making diamonds?" repeated Mr. Hetherington, apparently not even hearing" Hugh's whisper. "I ajn making diamonds," Siddle repeated; •"in that furnace I have diamonds cooking just u a housewife bakes her pies in her oven." "Ah, merciful heavens!" murmured Mr. Hetherington. "It is really true then?" And he staggered as if he had received some heavy blow, for he could hardly endure this near realization of all that he had dreamed of for so long. "But it is not my invention," said Mr Siddle in an absent manner; "it was my son's, who is dead" "We must be careful; this man means mis- chief," Hugh whispered again. "Be quiet, you fool, you!" said Mr Hether- ington in a fierce whisper, and pushed him from him. "Of course, much depends on the heating process," remarked Siddle. "You soo-yoù seem intelligent for mere negro labourers, and perhaps you will understand me—the secret of this process consists partly in the application of enormous pressure within the crucible by means of the expansion of certain chemicals. There is at this moment confined in the crucible in !that furnaoe explosive power enough to destroy us and this whole house and everything near, so that nothing would be left on this side ex- cept a big hole." Hugh smiled at that, for now her thought he understood, and he shifted his position slightly so as to stand between Mr. Siddle and the door. His idea was that Siddle meant to cause eome explosion that would destroy them, he himself taking care to make his escape first. Hugh resolved Siddle should not leave that room till the crucible had been opened. "It is dangerous work, then?" ho observed. "There is danger in everything," said Siddle, moving to the window. Hugh looked at his uncle, absorbed by the furnace and the glow of it, and said to him in A whisper: "I think he means to blow us up somehow. Perhaps this thing is a bomb." "Open the furnace door," said Mr. Siddle from the window, "and rake it out." They obeyed him, and disclosed to view 'a square crucible resting on asbestos supports, so that the flames had burned freely round it. The fuel used had been wood, and apparently a strong draught had been arranged to make the faggots burn freely and with' plenty of flame. "Shall we take it out?" asked Mr. Hether- ington, trembling with eagerness. "It must cool first," replied Siddle. "But there is a tub of water there," said Mr. Hetherington, pointing; "if we put it in that, it would be cooled." "And risk an explosion that would blow us all to nothmgners?" said Mr. Siddle. "No, my impatient son of Ham, you must wait. lrhe shock of such a sudden cooling might be yery dangerous." Mr. Hetherington drew back, though re100- tantly enough, for he could hardly restrain his impatience. And when it is cool and we open it, he said, "what will be IDside "Diamonds," replied Siddle sharply; "dia- jnonds the size of walnuts—perhaps a score of them." "Ah—h! said Mr. Hetherington with a sigh that was almost a. shudder, and Siddlo smiled again. "But it has nothing to do with you; why are you so interested, you nigger?" he said suddenly. "We fed it is a great thing to be present at such an experiment," interposed Hugh sharp- Ily, afraid lest his uncle should prematurely an- nounce their identity. "Really," remarked Mr. Siddle with another of those coldly terrifying smiles that occasion- ally crossed his strange and repulsive visage; "really, I am most fortunate to have found two negroes to take such an intelligent interest in my experiments." "Is it not cool enough yet 7" aeked Mr. Hetherington impatiently. "Not yet," said Siddle looking. "This is my son's process, you know, and one must be care- ful. "Oh, your son," repeated Mr. Hetherington looking up at him, and for tho first time ap- pearing to notioe something besides the cru- cible and the furnace. I » a son; osce," explained Mr. Siddle; I "he went to Europe to pursue his studies, but died there—suddenly. Sad, was it not?" "Very sad," agreed Mr. Hetherington, "but a long time ago." "True, a long time ago," agreed Siddle; "but what does that matter when time is mere- ly a delusion of the. human senses?" Not understanding this remark, Mr. Hether- ington mads no reply to it. But Hugh was now certain that tho old man knew them and was threatening them. "The crucible is cool enough now," said Siddle presently; "take it out and put it in the water "I will do that," said Hugh, for he thought there might be danger in touching the crucible, and he whispered to his uncle to go and stand by Siddle, to watch that he did not attempt to rlay them any trick The old man did not seem to notioe these manoeuvres, and watched gravely while Hugh drew the crucible from the furnace and placed it, hot and hissing, in the water-tank. He half expected eome fearful explosion to result, but nothing happened, and tho crucible lay quietly at the bottom of the tub, still guarding the secret of its contents. "My son," remarked Mr. Siddl-a, "made a mistake in conducting these experiments. He produced one diamond of great size, but of such poor stability and such bad colour, and with so many flaws in it, that it was prac- tically worthless. I have it here," he added, opening a small cupboard and taking out an object about the size of a melon that Hugh at once recognised as the original of the photo- graph and of the model he had seen. "It is the biggest diamond in the world, but I don't suppose it is worth $1,000. It is apt, too. to shiver in pieces at the merest touch. Now I have aimed at making them of a moderate size, but of a good colour and without flaws." "Yes, yes," said Mr. Hetherington, and stooping over the tub he drew out the crucible, which could now be handled. "Tho top unscrews," said Mr. Siddle, himself now, and for the first time, showing some ex- citement. Mr. Hetherington opened it, and shook out on the table a dozen objects about the size of walnuts, dull enough, and rough :n shap?, and yet with something about them that made even Hugh catch his breath. "Diamonds," eaid Mr. Hetherington with a long sigh. "Oh, diamonds—diamonds "Absolute success," said Mr. Siddle; "such success as I have dreamed of—diamonds made in any number I like. Why, now I can fill- a house with diamonds, pave my garden with diamonds; what can I not do?" But though his words were wild, = his manner remained cool, and Hugh saw he smiled at in- rvals. as if he still had secret thoughts. "Diamonds," repeated Mr. Hetherington, fondling and feeling the stones: and, Hugh heard him whisper under his breath, "All the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them. Hugh put out his hand and picked one up and i felt it, and then laid it down again. It was wonderful to him that this common, -rather ) dull-looking object could really be a diamond I manufactured by a man, and- yet there was something in the. feel of the stone that con- vinced him it really' was so. Mr Hetherington took out a handkerchief and passed it across his face. He took it away sopping wet. "Tut, tut!" said Mr Siddle co¡dly.. "Why are you two stray nigger labourers I have hired for a dollar a day and your kcep-wh v are you so excited about all this? It is nothing to you, is it?" Mr. Hetherington leaned across the table on which the diamonds were strewn. His hands rested on it and he looked full into the face of Mr. Siddle, who returned hi. burning gaze I I with eyes whose fire matched that of his. So I for a moment they stood motionless, fixed, each i pne's hot gaze intent upon the other, and then j Mr. Hetherington said in a low voice: j "It is time you were told the truth." I "Pilate, jesting, asked what the truth was," said Mr. Riddle; "but you, perhaps, are better informed?" "We are not negro labourers nor negroes at all," said Mr. Hetherington, speaking very 1 slowly, his intent gaze never; wavering. lis my ephew, Mr Hugh Tallentine. I 11m Jnirvs Hetherington, of Messrs. Hetherington, of London and Paris and Berlin. I presume you have heard of me, as I take it it was through your orders I was robbed of the secret formula you have put into practise to-day. But I am not robbed with impunity, and I have come here, and found admittance here- in this disguise in order to claim my just rights. "Of course," said Siddle with his cold and terrifying smile, "of course I do not believe a word of all this." Mr. Hetherington looked rather taken aback, and even Hugh was surprised. It had not occurred to either of them that their disclosure of themselves would be greeted with calm in I credulity. "It is easily proved," said Mr Hetherington quietly. "But now we have seen this experi- ment successful, I suggest it might be as well to come to terms and try to make an amioable arrangement. You must remember the for- mula is really mine, and I can put the law in motion to enforce my rights. But I feel in- clined to compromise on a basis of one quarter of the profits to you, the rest to us; you to superintend the manufacture of the stones, and we to arrange placing them on the market. "I should be inclined to compromise," said Mr. Siddle, "if I believed even a word of what you say. But you lie, you know; you are not Mr. James Hetherington, of London, but just a cursed nigger from St. Louis," "Oh, it is easily proved!" cried Mr. Hether- ington impatiently, and ran to the tub in which the cruoible had been cooled. He dipped his hands in and rubbed them hard, but the colouring matter on his skin was not in the least affected• "What are you doing?" asked Mr. Siddle. "It needs soap," cried Mr. Hetherington; "give me some soap." # "There is some on the shelf behind you," I said Siddle pointing. Mr. Hetberington took a piece and lathered his hands freely. But the soap produoed no ¡ more effect than the water; his handfl remain- ed black and shiny as a nigger's. "This is strange," he said, more puzzled than alarmed. "You lie, you see," said Siddle; "you are just a cursed nigger from St. Louis, and so is your friend." "No, we are white men," declared Hugh. Mr. Hetherington washed his hands fever- ishly. "If you are white men, be white," said Siddle to Hugh; at present you could very easily be mistaken for negroes." "We are not negroes," cried Mr. Hether- ington, still washing unavailingly. "One might easily believe your skin rather than your tongtoe," said Mr. Siddle; "to me you look like negroes." "But we are not," cried Hugh; "it is a dis- guise we adopted to be present at this experi- ment. You have played us some trick; what trick have you played us?" „ "I never saw you before in my life, said Siddle calmlv "and I believe you came here of your own free will, did you not? Anyhow, I take you to be negroes, as you seem, for what is a negro but a. man with a black skin ? And you are men, and you have black skins." "My God, it won't come off," cried Mr. Hetherington, flinging up his soapy and still black hands. "Can the Ethopian change his skin ?, smiled Mr. Siddle. "You have some devil's purpose to serve in this," cried Hugh. "Not a.t all," said Mr. Siddle very politely, "but I notice in the 'Athens Clarion'—edited bv a. violent person named Keene — that a white woman, named Bryan, was murdered near here yesterday. It seems two negroes are suspected. I trust you are not the men?" "Oh, & woman murdered!" Hugh repeated St "It^Lems," said Mr. Siddle slowly, "that Editor Keene is calling on the country to hunt these two strange negroes out andlynch them." are surely txisiq. ened Hugh, with a chill of great horror at his heart. "And when in this great country they lynch negroes suspected of such a crime as murder- ing a white woman." said Mr. Siddle, laughing heartily, "do you know what they do?—why, they burn them alive!" CHAPTER XXIV.-THE LYNCHING PARTY. From the window, high up, from which Noah Siddle had watched Dodd's departure, the prairie looking almost as level as an Eng- lish lawn. But in reality that level-seeming prairie was crossed by many ravines, deep and I

DELICIOUS /H^^TA.Ny? y I I 9-tMM [CAL i

FUN AND FANCY. "I never deny my wife a. wish." "Indeed?" "No; I let her wish. It doesn't cost any- thing." Little Marie: "Mamma., when I grow up, may I marry a Dutchman?" Mamma: "Why a Dutchman, dear?" Little Marie: "So that I can be a duchess, mamma." "I wonder why three-fourths of the typists in business offices are women?" "I guess it is because men like to feel that there is at least one class of women to whom can dictate." The First Quarrel.—Mrs. Newlywed: "Cook has burned the bacon, dear; she is so young and inexperienced. Won't you be satisfied with a kiss for breakfast?" Mr. Newlywed: "All right: call her in." A Buckinghamshire farmer who had a don- key for sale, hearing that a friend at Acton wanted to buy one, sent him a post-card, which read: "Dear Jack, if you are looking for a really good donkey, don't forget me." Policeman (to loiterer).—"Now, then, what are you doing here?" Loiterer: "What are you doing hero?" Policeman: "Can't you see I'm doing my duty." Loiterer: "An* can't you see I'm makin' the duty for you to do?" "Eveir if the Suffragettes had their way," said the philosophic person, "your wife would come to you for information before she went to vote." "Yes," answered Mr. Meekon; "she would probably ask me if her hat was on straight.' Benevolent Lady (to tramp, who had just begged fof assistance): "Here's twopence, but mind you, not giving it because you de- serve it. but. because it pleases mÐ." "Thank you, ma'am," replied the tramp. "But couldn't you make it sixpence, and thoroughly enjoy yourself?" A private in the Territorial camp, on being found asleep .at his post, was haled before the commanding officer. The C.O. was very stern and impressive. "In war time," he .said, "the punishment for this offence is death. This is not war; nevertheless, you will have to pay a fine of threepence." The conjuror was performing the ancient trick of producing, eggs from a pocket handker- chief. Said he to a little fellow: "My boy, your mother can't get eggs wi £ iout hens, can she?" "Of course, she can," replied the boy. "Why, how is that?" asked the conjuror. "She keeps ducks," roplied.the boy. A certain married man was in the habit of troubling his father-in-law with complaints about his wife's behaviour. "Really, this is too bad cried the irascible old gentleman one day on hearing of some of his daughter's delin- quencies. "If I hear any more complaints I will disinherit her." There were no more. A Roman Catholic Archbishop in America recently encountered an Irish compatriot laying down a wood-block paving, in St. Louis. The man was' one of a gang under an Italian fore- man and the Prelate, in a breezy manner, ask- ed the labourer, "Well, my good man, how do you like having an Italian boss" "Faith, your Grace." retorted the Irishman, "and how do you like having one yourself ?" An Eastern potenate once asked a group of his courtiers whom they thought the greater man. himself or his father. At first he could elicit no reply to so dangerous a question. At last a wily old courtier said: "Your father, sire; for though you arc equal to your father in all other respects, in this he is superior to you—that, he had a greater son than any you have." He was promoted on the spot. Some years ago there was a trial for murder in Ireland in which the evidence was so pal- pably insufficient that1 the judge stopped the case and directed the jury to return a verdict of "Not, guilty." A well-known lawyer, how- ever: who wished to do something for the fee he had received for the defence, claimed the privilege of addressing the Court. "We'll hear you with pleasure. Mr. B Mid the judge; "but, to prevent accident, we'll first acquit the prisoner."

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS. LITTLE THINGS. If any little word of mine ij May make a life the brighter, If any little song of mine May make a heart the tighter, God help me speak the little word, And take my bit of singing And drop it in some lonely vale, To set the echoes ringing. BEAUTIFUL LIVES. Beautiful hands are those that do Work that is earnest, brave and true, Moment by moment the long day through. Beautiful feet are those that go On kindly ministries to and fro, Down lowliest ways, if God wills so. Beautiful lives are those that bless, Silent rwers of happiness, Whose hidden fountains none can guess. —Ellen P. Ajlleeton. THERE'S NOTHING LIKE A DADDIE. I do not want a puppy dog, although I know they're nice, For my papa can romp with me in ways that quite suffice. He'll bark just like a St. Bernard and like a mastiff growl, And you would feel like laughing when he imitates its howl. I do not want a pussy-cat. I like cats pretty well, But daddy beats them all, and plays better than I can tell. He'll purr and siss like anything; His mewing you should hear; It makes more noise than any cat, and, oh, I shake with fear! I do not want a pony small. Of coursp, they're lots of fun, But what's the use of ponies when you're my dear daddy's son? He takes mo on his shoulders broad, or puts me on his knees, And sets me off a-galloping ItS madly as you please. In short, I don't want anything as long as daddy's here. He's pretty much of everything, and don't get out of gear. And best of all the things boys have, I'm sure you'll find it true, There's nothing like a daddy, whe will always play with you!

SKIN-TORTURED FAMILY. "Cuticura. Soap and Ointment have abso- lutely cured me of a serious attack of erysipelas and my four children of eczema. in a bad form. The trouble began with my sou, aged ten, who had sore places break out on his face and his whole body was simply covered with lumps. These used to break and run matter and then I leave nasty raw places. I tried many things but he got worse; then the disease began to I show itself on my three little daughters. They soon became as badly affected as my son and I was driven nearly mad with the worry of it. They suffered dreadfully and I did not have a proper night's sleep for three weeks. To make matters worse, I caught a cold and then ery- sipelas set in. It affected my face so badly that for two days and nights I could not open my eyes and I had to remain in bed. There seemed to be no other course opev. than for all of us to go into the hospital, but my father advised me to try the Cuticura Remedies. I bought the Cuticula. Soap and Cuticura Ointment and the very first application worked wonders. I was simply amazed as their healing power. They quite cured me within three weeks and there is not even a mark now to show the terrible skin-torture I suffered. I did not lose any time in trying the effect of the Cuticura Remedies, on each of my four children's eczema, and in every caso the cure was as perfect as my own. They were all quite well again as soon as I was. lns. Jcanie Cimtox'il. Ease*, Eng., Jtfov. 28, 1008.1 JT. —

FOR MATRON AND MAID. I READY TO RESPOND. 1 There is always a welcome place for a good listener. If you are in this class, there are a few things to keep in mind. First you must force yourself to pay strict attention to the talk- ers. Pin your faith to the conversation, do no' let your wits go wandering into the why aI" wherefore of the talkers' dross or business. Be ready to answer any query that might be made. for, of course, a. good talker will try to engage his listeners in an exchange of ideas. Then bo ready to rescue the topic from an in- glorious death due to the interrupting person. "You were saying that you preferred," etc., is often a very little thing to bring out a story that might otherwise never be heard. Every- one can do that much. A casual relevant re- mark is within anyone's power, and the good listener with this ability is just as necessary to a social gatherings as a good talker. WHIRLWIND GIRLS. There are some girls who seem. to breathe ex- clamation points. Everything they door cay or think is explosive. Suavity is" as much beyond t.1iem as to keep a. freshly shampooed head neat in a windstorm. Abruptness is a fault of youth. It seems to come natural to bang doors, make curt answers, enter a room with a dash and leave it unceremo- niously. Much of this abruptness will be toned down with years. As girls grow older they learn to move gracefully and quietly, to cut out much of their "slap-banging," to make at least a pre- tence of interest in what others say. Those lessons would be acquired more quickly if girls realised how much their abruptness worked against their receiving invitations. ALL NEED ENCOURAGEMENT. Love of commendation is one of woman's chief charms. There is not a woman alive who is indifferent to words of praise from those she loves. The women who stifle their hearts' cries be- cause it is vain to listen for an answer where they have a right to expect to look for it, and go on performing their duties just the same, are the women who most long for the kindly, appreciative word. In too many homes it is the lack of appre- ciation that builds up sickening barriers between hearts that should be near. Is the love of ap- preciation by friends a crime, a weakness? If so, then men as well as women are under its sway, for men cannot get along at all-the ma- jority of them—without this sort of bolstering up. AN UNLOVELY TRAIT. There are eome traits so utterly unlovely in- every respect that it is difficult to think of them in connoction with womanhood. One of theoo-thc most hideous, perhaps, of any—is greed, and tho dreadful thing about it is that it is apt to be an entirely unconscious afflic- tion. Greed seems sometimes to be instinctive with the woman who has not early in life been cured of one of this repulsive characteristic, more animal than human; never satisfied, repaying kindness and generosity with an absolute lack of appreciation, and but one distinct idea that there is an opportunity for gain, small or large, and that it must be made the most of at all hazards. THE OTHER SIDE. There is nothing more torturing than for a man with a strong sense of order to be tied for life to a woman who can keep neither herself nor her house looking neat. It is a pathetic sight to see a husband trying to pick. up debris from an untidy room. or attempting to wield a much-needed duster." Usually friction, not pathos, is the result of such an ill-assorted couple. The neat one storms and the sloven weeps or answers back, yet refuses to be reformed on orderly lines. JOYS WITHIN REACH. All over the world there are so many joys that unpleasant things can be overlooked, and all the pleasures appreciated. A woman .who can be a friend and yet not expect a man to cater to her vanities is a joy. A man who knows how to be a perfect com- rade and yet. not make love to every woman he meetsisajoy. A thoroughly good. story is a joy. A great big bunch of flowers, pretty of hue and sweet of perfume, is a joy. A dainty dinner with someone you like very much is a joy. A becoming hat that sets comfortably on your head is a joy. To see a dear baby, an affectionate dog, or a chirpy bird is a joy. i FASHION FANCIES. Sleeveless coats of braided net dip down well over the hips. Bands of velvet border those of the flimsiest materials. The flowers wreathed on hats entirely hide the crowns, be they tall or not. Big scarves of velvet, tied in big flat bows are for trimming broad-brimmed ahapes. The beehive hat in slightly varied forms has taken on a new lease of life. Long mousquetaire gloves are neoessary with the three-quarter sleeves. Belts of dull gold' or silver are most effective on simple gowns. t Coloured lining to fine white summery fabrics are to be a feature of the coming season. The sailor tie, if not the sailor collar, is no- ticeable on 6mart costumes. Generally the collar is only a few inches wide and even all the way round. Old blue in straw is seen facing bilf black velvet hats. Dead autumn colours mingle with the delicate bright shades of spring. Replacing bands of fur at the foot of skirts are wide bands of heavy lace. Overdraperies are caught up at either side with a rosette of the trimming material. Light gowns showing rather high waists take waistbands of narrow velvet ribbon with long streamers depending from beneath a buckle at the left. Some tailor-made costumes have the back panel of the skirts drawn in at the ankles be- neath bands of the material. Collarless coats for the spring are cut open at least halfway to the waist. Some of these new specimens can boast of no fastenings, yet a considerable number 01 ornamental buttons and loops. AIR AND FOOD. Plain looks are not terrifying. It is the fear that they cannot be overcome that allows Fa- ther Time to scratch tell-tale marks over the countenance. The plain face, if it be good-natured looking. has a certain element that defies wrinkles and often passes for good looks. Every woman's face is a mirror that reflects her life. Good living, not high living, but ra- tional living, invariably brings good looks. Many women with tired and puffy places un- der their eyes, with drawn and weary looks at the corners of their mouth which cannot be hidden with all the elegance of dress, could ap- pear young and blooming if they knew how to breathe properly. The foundation of all vitality depends upon proper breathing and food. HINTS FOR THE HOME. To dean a Brass Tray which has Become Rusty.—You will find that vinegar and brick- dust mixed will restore the appearance of the tray. When Using a Gas Stove, never leave any- thing on it that might boil over. Any fluid boiling over may extinguish the flame and leavo the gas escaping. When someone strikes a match to light the stove an explosion is likely to occur Marble Cleaner.—Take equal quantities of soap, soda and whiting, and boil in water till the soap melts; spread over marble and let it stand' a few hours. Then wash off with clean warm water, and you will find the surface re- newed and all stains will have disappeared. Economy in Cooking.—Put all scraps of beef and mutton tat and dripping into a basin, with a cupful of water. Place in a mild oven for an hour or two. Then set in a cool place. Use this instead of the given quantities of butter in recipes. Pork and bacon fat and dripping should be done together. Being much richer than the other, only half the quantity is nec- essary. This is excellent for the pastry of savories, such as sausage rolls, meat patties, etc. Two Wallpaper Hints.—When papering a damp wall take A lb. of alum and lb. of glue size, dissolve both together in a pail of boil- ing water. Take off the old paper and waah the wall once or twice with the solution; when dry it can be papered. For those who may have varnished paper, here is a splendid way of washing it. First take a bucket half-full of warm water, add to this two tablespoonfuls of ammonia. Wash over the paper with this, us- ing a nearly dry flannel. Go over again with a clean, soft, dry duster, and a beautiful polish will result. CAKES AND PUDDINGS.-No. 18. This pudding is very nice for a special occa- sion, and will b enjoyed if served with Sweet Sauce, a good recipe for which was given in the issue of a fortnight ago. CHOCOLATE PUDDING. 1 packet of Cakeoma. 6 ozs. fine chopped Suet A pinch of Salt 1 to 2 ozs. Cocoa. 2 Eggs. A third to half a glass of Milk. METHOD. Put the dry ingredients and tha suet into a bowl and.'mix; then add the egirs (well beaten) and the niiik, and thorouglUy but lightly mix altogether. Steam or boil for three hours and servo hot with Sweet Sauce. Next week a Rics CL rccipe. Cakeoma is sold only in 3d. packets by i ftrocgr| øi- Sifttej eTeryjrhsrft,

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shallow, that in the spring, at the melting of the snow, served to carry away the water; and it was diversified by many folds and dips in the land, along eomc of which an army might have marched and been invisible from points quite near at hand. It was at the bottom of one of these folds in the land that Dcdd as he approached it — he being new out of sight of Noah Siddle's keen ey.es-S&w waiting him, sitting motionless on horseback, the figure of a woman. whom he recogn'sed at once for Eira. He hesitated, and seemed half inclined to avoid the interview, but recognisina' that this was impossible, he shrugged his shoulders and drove straight on, while Eira rode slowly to meet him- "Why have Mr. Hetherington and Mr. Tal- !entine been disguised as coloured men ?" she demanded without any preliminary greeting. "Well, it was their own idea, Miss Siddle," said Dodd deprecatingly; "they proposed it themselves and carried it out themselves." "Don't lie to tv)". John Dodd," said Eira, with passion in her voice; "you know as well as I know, that all this has been my grand- father's doing. What is his object?" "By God, I do not know!" said Dodd. They looked at each other, and for a moment did not speak. Dodd's face W3S palo, but his 1 eyes wero sullen. Eira looked at him as if she would search out the innermost secret of his 1 heart. "It is no good pretending ignorance, John Dodd," Eira said at last; "if you do not know, you must have guessed. You have sworn by God, and Cod knows—what you do not know, perhaps, but what you understand all the same." "Well," muttered Dodd sullenly and abash- ed, for her voice and manner were full of an intense emotion, "well, I warned them." "Did they understand your warnings 1" she asked.. "That was their look out," he retorted. "Ah!" she said, "I see they did not, and I see you did not mean them to. Now, tell me not what you know of my grandfather's plans, but what you have guessed of them." "I don't know nothing, and I don't guess," said Dodd, passing his hand -slowly over his faoe; "it's all dark to me, and I just done what I was told. That old man sits there and thinks; and what he thinks we do, and never know our doings were his thoughts." "I know, I know," she eaid glpomily; "he makes, use of us all somehow. I thought it was fine, heroic, to get back the secret of my poor fatherinveption that had been stolen from him. If grandfather wished this man, Mr. Hetherington, to be present at the moment of his success, I saw no harm in that. But this black disguise of his, of theirs—that seems to me terrible." "Ah, yes!" said Dodd, and in a whisper he added: "Have you heard that Mrs. Bryan was murdered yesterday?" "Yes," said Eira, "someone told mê. It is very dreadful, but——" "Have you heard her body was burnt up by the murderers, so it could only be identified by the torn b'oody clothing lying about?" T heard something," said Eira., "but "Fav you heard," eaid Dodd again, "that two strange negroes are suspected?" "Oh." cried, putting a hand quickly to h.). side. "vou cannot mean-" "Do you know half the folk is up and hunt- ing for tbem niggers to lynch them? Do you know one of them is supposed to be an oldish man, going by the name of Hetherington, and one a younger man, tall and big built? Did you know all that?" She looked at him, and raised one hand with an appalled iTestu/e, but she could say no word. "Do yoj know that Editor Keene, in the 'Athens Olft'-on.' is shiiekmg for vengeance on these two heard the news in town last night, and drove back to Athens full tiH.to 1;1, cut Mk. hottest, number he ever pub- lished. Dc. yo» know he is reminding the folk of wha-t wrr. 6or* year to that nigger down MisWsVt wat, -v-o ir.urderod a white woman, •r.o U:oy Uxk hir.t -and "burnt him alive? Do you ktiow h» is fp; ?stir;3 searching Noah Siddle's ■farm, to AA' if any stiange niggers are shelter- inn- fJ-ero?" Mr. Het.hirvington and Mr. Tallentine s-iid Eira quickly; "they are whit* men haw black skins, and they are stran- gers." aid Dood. "And their black colour won't come off in a hurry, for you know, when got up ac a nijrger in the City of London. .En¡?:tand. notirttisr would • bring the colour off cxcept the stall Noah Siddle gave me himself. Ordinary soap ann water, or anything like that, only makes it shinier." "You must go back," said Eira, "you must go back, and Is1 ready to bear witness that they are really■whif«> men." "Not. t".sa:«j-Dodd frankly, "they must take their chance for me. I monkey with o'd Noah SiddJ. if I know it. It j" his hand, and he roust pJay it M he likes. Besides, I don't know nc-tlioig, and likely enough he means no barm." Eira did Dot say anything, for she knew too wel! the dread her grandfather inspired to have hope of bei.-ig able to persuade Dodd to hini- She gathered up her reins, and tara-ed her horse's liead, and Dodd called to her: yop going to do, miss?" "1 s.a» Athens," she answered, "to find til a and to tell him the whole story." "Thats .!OO said Dodd approvingly, "ii tre liirn 'W,t 8-nd tell him how these two teijow^ have ais^uised themselves as negroes to get" a sii;hv of some of Noah's private ex- periments, he may believe you. But it's no tale to face a mob of lynchers with—they wouldn't listen to a word ct it. And be careful, miss, for if they f,Jj¿ you helping what they took to be two to escape, they would lynch | you, too—Uicy would, bjr Heavens!" Without replying, Eira set off at a sharp gallop, and shaking his head and look- ing very uncomfortable, drove on his way, re- solved that he at least would have nothing to do with a mob of lynchers out after their prey. "I would rather try to bluff a cyclone, or to argue with a West Coast earthquake," he mur- mured, and driving on. he, two days later, made his appear&noe at a iittle town eome dis- tance away, whence he took the Eastward- bound. train, and finally arrived in New York, where he Evro in good style for a time, having apparently plenty of ready money, then tried to speculate on Wall-street, and a couple of weeks later ho was trying to get a job down by the docks. Paying him no more attention, Eira rode swiftly on across the broad prairie. There was no trail, but the position of the sun gave her her direction, and she knew if she kept straight on she would presently come to the Athens trail, at a point where two or three farm trails met, and made on better and more sharply defined to town. She was not very much afraid so far, fci she could be in Athens in a couple of hours, and there she could tell her story to the <ihr?riff, to the minister, to the hotel and store Keepers, and other leading men, if necessary, till every one should know that the two strange negroes who might be sus- pected of the dreadful crime committed at Bryan's farm were in reality white men dis- guised in order to spy on old Noah Siddle's ex- periments. This seemed to her simple enough, but as she rode she became conscious of a faint mur- mur, of a sound in the air that was above and beyond the ordinary sounds of the full life of the prairie.. At first she was hardly conscious of it, but it grew louder, and persisted till it forced itself on her attention, and presently it seemed to her that this distant sound, like no- thing she had ever heard before, had in it a note that was sinister and threatening. Look- ing far ahead, as she came to a spot where the prairie rose a litcie, she peroeived a long way 10 front of her a something that was like a moving cloud on the face of the earth. She thought at first it must be a storm, and the sound she heard that of thunder in the dis- tance, but the 6ky above was serene and cloud- less, and the soft breeze blew gently. A touch of fear came to her, and she in- creased her speed. A good horsewoman, she tiad not overridden her mount, and it respond- ed at onoe to the call she made..At a gallop she went on along the hard, springy earth of the trail, the best going in the world in fine weather. Ever as she drew nearer to the dis- tant object, the sound of it increased; and as it grew nearer, so it grew more distinct, till at last she knew it was a crowd of men, mounted, on foot, in buggies or wagons, coming quickly on. A crowd of men going hither and thither in a big city is a little impressive; a crowd gath- ered together anywhere for any purpose has always its significance; but a crowd in lonely places come hither for one common purpose, is a sight daunting and impressive beyond meet. Not the senseless roar of the storm, not the wild fury of the seas, or even the appalling solitude of the vast mountain ranges, has a quality so impressive as that possessed by a crowd of men animated by one common pur- pose and seeking one common end. When at last Eira understood what this crowd was, and what its probable purpose, she reined in her hoase and sat considering. The crowd was soon so near that she could see and even recognise the foremost of the men forming it. In front of all drove in a light buggy one whom she knew well—a dark, fierce man, with flaming eyes, who was Editor Keene. When his ill-omened glance fell on her, and she turned her horse's head, and galloped back down the trail towards her grandfather's farm, without pausing to think whether this were quite the wisest thing to do. A roaring voioe she knew for Keene's sum- moned her by name, but she only struck her spurless heel agains' her horse's flank and ex- cited him with her voice to gallop his hardest. The brave animal understood and responded nobly, and the sound of (his hoofs was like thunder on the trail. She turned her head and glanoed behind. Keene was waving his whip and shouting, and from the crowd half-a-dozen horsemen were rid- ing out. Seeing her look back, one of them threatened her with a pistol, and when she took no notice he fired it, but in the air. She still took no notice, and. in fact, was safe enough, for among all those men there was not one who -would have fired a shot at a woman in earnest. At least, not then; later, when thir blood was fired, it might come to be different. Bending low over her horse, Eira patted his neck, and whispered to him that they must 11 win. But swift after her roc; half a scoro of pir- cuere. She was a lighter neight, but her horse wp noi so fcesli gs XUtfe M ehfi '1. they seemed to gain upon her and though she I went like the wind, like the wind they pursued her. It was hardly more than a mile that that wild hunt endured, and then the hunters closed in upon their quarry. She heard hoofs close behind her, beside her, and then there was a man riding side by side with her, not looking at her, but with his hand stretched out to seize bar reins. With a little sob, rho recog- nised that she was beaten, and slackened pace, and at once another man shot up on her othor hand.. "What do you want? How dare you?" she cried angrily. "Will Frear," she cried, recog- nising in the man on her left a young farmer from a homestead quite nea.r at hand, "how dare vou?" "Sorry, miss," he said, lifting his hat, "but there are some things womenkind is best out of." "What were you riding like that de- manded the other man; a small man with a narrow face and red hair, a stranger to her. "You mind your own bueiness," retorted Eira defiantly; "what has it got to do with you?" Keene drove up in his buggy. He had not been far behind in the race. "It is Siddle's grand-daughter," he 6aid. Frear, you had better take her in to town." "Where are you going?" asked Eira quickly. "On our business, miss," he answered, lifting his hat. listen to mø-" she began, but he interrupted her. "I have no time, miss," he said. "Look after the young lady, Mr. Frear. Come, Mr. Shaw," and accompanied by the red-haired man, he had called "Shaw," he drove away. "They are going to grandfather's," Eira ex- claimed to Frear. "No harm is intended to him, miss," Frear assured her; "nor to nobody else, except the two black savages who have murdered poor Bryan's wife, and thoy deserve all they get, and more, by Heaven!" (To be continued.)