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*———— , V [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]…
—— —— V [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ] [ALL IN SPITE OF EVIDENCE Q BY I L ?AAuutthhoor r oof f =g: :m:? &c-? $ LILLIA S CAMPBELL DAVIDSON 9 CHAPTER XIX.. I PERSECUTION. I Celia heard the interchange, of words in I the passage. The outer door closed. Then a man's voice sounded nearer. "All right; I'll go right in." She had only time to scramble to her feet, the toasting fork still in her hand, her face suddenly flaming with indignant resentment, as the, sitting-room door was thrust open and Scudamore stalked in. He had flung back the fur-collared coat. Now he wrestled himself out of it with two movements, and tossed it on the sofa before he strode across the narrow strip of carpet that stretched between them and held out a great red fat paw. grnThere you are! The landlady said vou were i, How do? Ages since I met you, m \ave you been hiding yourself, £ h?" TT pushed a chair with his foot, sloped i? t round to him, and fell into it heav? His face was one wide grin of satis- factIOn. She stood, her shoulders thrown back, her i»v!o £ ure withdrawn, her lips unsmiling. take the chair near him as he cofidently waited for her to do. "I am sorry Percy is not in," she said quietly and distinctly. "There has been some mistake. If you have a message for him I will be glad to give it." He -rinned again, with open diversion this time—threw his arm across the table and Icant forward on his elbow. fY No Percys for me 1 I'm not taking any See here, now, don't try the bluff game with me. It'd go down with some men. I'm a bit too 'cute for it. I expect you know as well as I do what's the attraction that's brought me here. Only you women are so confounded sly I say—what made you play it so low down on me? I was slapped across the face when I got Percy's letter. You shouldn't have told him you were going with me! You played that like a green 'un. You could easy have given him the slip and gone with me! All that about your having an engagement, of course, you knew I took for what it was worth. I suppose the mean rat bagged my present and used it. Well, all right, he can try on what he likes. I'm more than a match for him, and he'll find it out. I am not going to have any spoke put in my wheel in this little act!" Half of what he said would have needed an interpreter as far as Celia was con- cerned. She only gathered that he supposed it had been Percy's intervention that had prevented her going to the theatre. She held her head a trifle higher up. "I burnt the tickets," she said quietly. "I refused to go. You don't understand prob- ably that such a thing was out of all ques- tion. Thank you for any kindness you meant. But you didn't know." "Didn't know what, eh?" He had pulled his chair round, and now sat facing its back, on which he leaned his arms. He looked her full in the eyes with his bold ones, and his lips curled in a smile. "You don't understand that I could not by a"ny possibility go to the theatre with you. He broke across her speech with a loud amused laugh. "Come now! That's very pretty! When you go with Percy! What's the difference?" "If I told you, probably you would not understand any better. In any case, please understand one thing. I could not receive a present of tickets from vou under any circumstances whatever. And I could not go anywhere with you." "You couldn't, eh? And why not, I'd just like to know." He waited for her answer, but she was silent. Had he not been between her and the door she would have gone out and left him. His manner, his look were so intoler- able. "You couldn't? That's to say wouldn't— that's what you mean. You needn't deny it. She looked full at him then, and met his leer with a lofty dignity: Yes, she said with composure. "I would not. You are perfectly correct." He had not expected that. As she met his look dauntlessly, from under her steady eye- hds, he felt a rush of anger, admiration, savage desire to seize and crush her ran through his veins. She was a girl! He had never come across one like her. "I say!" he drew a long breath. Then he laughed again. This time the laugh had a certain excitement in it. The colour deepened in his red and unattractive visage. His eyes sparkled. "I say What a beauty you look when your back's up! Pays a chap, it does, to spar with you. Go on, little lady I rather like it! Scratch and slap a bit. Then we'll kiss and make friends. His words, his look were so atrocious that she felt herself subjected a kind of electric shock. That any man on earth should dare so to spea k to her That she should have to stand there, defenceless, and listen to his insults! She forgot dignity, forgot discre- tion, forgot that she was friendless. She pushed aside the table between them and with one swift step was at the door. Scudamore wheeled in his chair. The room was so small that he did not need to rise. He leaned across and caught at her frock as she swept past. His clutch jerked her back as she turned the door knob—jerked her back W rudely and abruptly that she almost stag- gered. d f'f' here!" he said. That's going a -T z k liere! he sa I d bit too far Stop there—my little lady! That'll do for a pretence. I didn't come all this way to have a little time with you, just to have you act like that. If it's Percy you're scared about, lie won't be here for another couple of hours. I took care of that. Stop right there, and listen to me. Then you'll come back and sit down like a good girl, and give me something to eat. None of your tea, a swashv drink that! Percy's sure to have some whisky in the house. We'll talk things over quiet. You needn't kick up a row. I mean all right. I tell you, the minute I set eves on you the other night my goose was cooked for me. You did the business. It's love at first sight. I came out here this afternoon to ask you the question. Don't vou make anv mistake, it's all right. If you'd like a 'bit of sweet- hearting before I put the ring on, well and good, I don't object. But as far as I go, I'm ready this minute. I'll walk out of this house when Percy comes back, once you've promised to be my wife I He still held her frock in that tight grasp of his. She tried to drag it from him, but her strength against his was as the strength of a mouse. She was pale enough nlJ IV. The anger in her heart seemed to drive all the blood there, and leave her faint with passion. Let mv frock go! Take vour hand away pi I shall call for the landlady." He yrimied again at that. "Lor' bless you von r« as innocent as a baby! I gave her F'»m<et.lii»ig when she opened the door to me, io I-e:lve us alone while I made my little C. .,I! !Col -fif- now, sit down, like a good girl, and bo reasonable. All this is only bunkum. Sit down, or by Jingo! I'll kiss you first and ask you to marry me afterwards. I swear I will!">( She moved so suddenly, so swiftly, that die was not conscious herself of what she meant <o do till it was done. The intolerable insolence stung her like a knife-prick. She struck at him with all her force, struck at the big hand that held her frock, tore it from him, as his grasp relaxed under his blank astonishment. She had torn the door open and was half through it before he leapt from his chair, and kickcd it over, in hIS spring towards her. He caught her by both elbows, held them, kissed her ear, as she flung her head away from him in an agony of horror-would have flung his arms about her. "You'll pay for that!" he snorted, his hot breath close to her, his horrible pre- sence near. What spirit lent her strength she never knew, but it seemed to her that all at once she was like a giant. She tore herself out of. his grasp, twisted through the door, had locked it, stood panting on the other side, her shoulder against it, like another heroine of old Scottish history. She felt the panel suddenly shake under his blows upon it. "Come out," he thundered. Come out. I say I won't do it again, I swear I won't, if you'll come out and talk it over. Come out or I'll break the door down. Come along out, I say!" But, even in his excitement, Scudamora was not a fool, as he himself would have assured you. What was the good of go-ing to extremes and doing damage one would have to pay for, when there wasn't any- thing to get by it? The girl's repulse had only whetted his anxiety. But she couldn't stand against him. And she didn't mean a bit of this. It was all pure bunkum. She'd be pecking from his hand in another minute. So he dropped down from the heights of passion, in a minute or two, to the depths of temporizing. He changed his threats to entreaties. She was cruelly hard, he couldn't believe she was in earnest. He'd. go down on his knees to her if that would move her. She was a wicked girl to treat him like that when he worshipped the round she trod on. Celia, on the further side of her defences, stopped her ears and shut out his odious accents. By and by he left off the attack, grumbling and muttering. She heard him drag his coat up from the sofa and fling it on. Then the door into the passage opened. The outer door banged. Still she shrank there, not daring to relax her hold or come from her shelter. It might be a ruse on his part to lure her out and once more to spring upon her. She felt sick and tremb- ling with the agitation and disgust. By and by, a long, long time after, there was the rattle of a latchkey, a step through the passage. She felt her heart fill with thanksgiving. It was Percy come home at last. "She heard his exclamation as he stepped to the sitting-room and saw its dis- order. Hastily she unlocked the door and stepped out to him. Her hair was dis- ordered, where Scudamore's rough touch had brushed it. Her frock was crumpled with his hot hand. Percy stared at her in amazement, at the overturned chair, the tea-cake burnt to a cinder in the fireplace, the kettle that had boiled over. "What in thunder's all this? he asked, irritably. "Have you been having a circus, iaiav I ask?". "Oh, Percy!" She held out both hands to him. as if he were her only protection. "Oh, Percy That horrible man has been here—that Mr. Scudamore He-he wanted to kiss me—lie asked me to marry him. It was horrible, horrible!" "Scudamorc he whistled. He looked her up and down and he whistled once more. "Scudamore! By Jingo! That's a queer idea! Wanted to marry you, did he? Upon my word!" "It was too dreadful! I don't know how Tie dared to do it! I feel as if I never could look anybody in the face again. I'm de- graded somehow." "Degraded, eh? I don't know why you should be. He's a rich man, Scudamore, after all." "Percy! You can speak like that! You!. He wanted to marry me-he dared to think it was possible!" she broke off, choked with her emotions. "Oh. well, after all, that isn't an insult, you know. Scudam ore's got a heap of money, he's in business with a Jew broker. Wasn't it in the will that you were to get your capital if you married? You could do what you liked with it? I don't see why Scudamore shouldn't hand it over to me, if I asked him. He's got so much that it wouldn't matter to him one way or the other." "Fercv!" Her cry rang through the little room. Then for an instant there was silence. He shrugged his shoulders, looked at her furtively, and turned to the cold tea on the table. "Well, all I can say is, there might be a worse idea," he muttered. CHAPTER XX. I HESISTANCE. I Percy came back the next day in a mood new to Celia. She thought she knew his every mood by now, and they were legion. But this was one of resolution, defiance-- with an undercurrent of shame to it. "Look here, Ceiia," he began, walking into the sitting-room with his hat on, his stick still in his hand. "I'm going to have a straight talk with you. I saw Scudamore in the City. Now the thing is just this. He's dead gone on you. He says it's a genuine case. He confesses that he went further than he meant yesterday. He says you drove him out of himself with your airs and your graces. He's willing to apologise. But he's set on getting you. He spoke quite fairly about it. He'd be willing to listen to anything- about your capital. If voii think you doil't know him well enough yet, he's willing to humour you and come courting as often as you like. And he'll undertake to hand over your money to me the day you're married. I must say that's only right, anyhow. I oiiglit to get it." She had been listening to him with a sur- prise that gave way to dismay and incre- dulity as he went on. Now she broke in across his speech. "J'hat's eftoftgh, that will do, Percy. You've said what he told you to say, and your duty's ended. Now don't let us speak of it any more." He flashed her a look of resentment. "What do you mean? I'm not going to be shut up by you, Celia. What do you mean, anyhow?" "I mean that if to marry that man would save me from hanging I'd rather choose the scaffold. I mean that if he were the last man left on earth and I was the last woman, I'd jump into the sea rather than marry him. Is that plain enough? I loathe the very ground he steps on-I loathe the very air he breathes. No, no, Percy I I've done what I could for you—I've done enough, God knows. This is the final limit. Never speak about a thing like this again while we both live," He made a movement towards her. "Don't you try to take that tone with me!" he said, and his voice was suddenly threatening. "Look here, Celia, you're act- ing like a little fool, you know. I'm offering you the chance of a good home and a man that's mad about you. I'll make him settle a Lood big sum on you, if you'd rather. Then you'll feel safe, however he turns out. I can't understand the ground you take in all this. It seems to me you're beastly selfish. You know I can't touch your capital unless you marry—and it's a chance with Scudamore one wouldn't get with many other men. Suppose I start to make you take him—what would you say then, (,Il? "I should say"—she stood and faced him without a tremble—"that sooner than even listen twice to such a thing I'd leave you. I could do that any day "Celia! A great and sudden fear dawned in his eyes. He flung his hand out to her. "Celia, don't say that! Don't do it! I should starve without your money! You wouldn't leave me unless, unless, it was to marry a man like Scudamore, would you? "I would leave you, yes I would. I would be right in leaving you if you tried to mak( me do this iniquity! Look, Percy, I mean it. Unless you promise me never to speak of it again, never to listen to that man, I'll do it. I warn you." With that he began to whimper and to beg of her, but she held firmly to her pur- pose. "Well, I'll tell him," he said at last, when he saw that neither threats nor coax- ings had any avail with her. "But he'll be mad! I don't know what my telling him will do after all. When Scudamore mealilc a thing he gets it. He won't let you alone till you're married to him. I know him that far! "He mustn't have a chance of seeing me again," she said with pale resolution. lie must never be able to do as he did yester- day—he mustn't." She thought a minute, looking up with decision. "He must not he able to harm us any more. We must go away from here as we've so often gone from other places. He mustn't be able to track us. That will make it all right, surely." "I suppose it'll have to be like that. But it's precious hard luck I should be obliged to pull up stakes and move from here, just because you're so obstinate. I'll tell you what, if we do go, it had better be to Brighton. I met a man a day or two ago who was telling me he was going there. He's running a show of some sort. Says there's a heap of money in watering places. But if we're going it had better be pretty quick, before Scudamore finds out and stops it. So their landlady had a week's payment in lieu of notice, and she did not trouble herself over anything else. Celia put their meagre possessions together. She had dimi- nished her own store of things gradually. One by one her little articles of jewellery had been sold, and now she owned nothing of value, except the ring that Vane had given her. She wore that always round her neck on a ribbon. It did not wrong him, could not wrong the woman whom some day I he would marry, if she kept that poor little pledge of her brief happiness as her only consolation. They packed up and flitted to Brighton. They found cheap lodgings there in a back street. The move had good effects for Celia, blanched by the living on meagre food and in impure air for so long. The sea breezes brought back the colour to her cheeks. She found a sudden new pleasure that her empty, dreary life had not known before. It was in watching the waves, taking long walks with the fresh salt sting of the wind in her face, and stirring all her pulses. She freshened and brightened under it. There was a piano in their rooms. The landlady kept it there for her young daughter to have lessons on. It was tune- less and battered, but Celia took pleasure in playing it, and remembering all the music she used to be fond of in her old home. She offered to teach the child, and the landlady was glad to accept the offer. The pay was miserable, but Celia welcomed it. When the hours for lessons were over, and Percy was out on those long errands of his, of which she never dared to ask herself the motive, Celia would play and sing to herself by the hour and forget many a misery. One day Percy brought home the man from whom he had got the idea of a move to Brighton. He was a small, undersized, ugly little man, with a wife who did thought-reading, and they had performances every afternoon and evening. The two came into the little sitting-room, and Celia rose from the piano. "Go on; don't stop, please," said Ford as he took off his hat. "That's a real fine touch you've got. I haven't heard a piano played so well in I don't know how long. You've been well taught. You can bring out more music from that rattle-trap than I'd have thought it had in it. That your music?'' and he picked up a sheet from the floor where it had fallen, and looked critically at it. "No; that belongs to the landlady's little girl. I'm giving her lessons." "That so? You do that kind of thing? 1 shouldn't wonder if my missus wouldn't know of some pupils for you." Ford was a kindly man, and it touched him with compassion to see that pretty young woman so shabbily dressed and so quiet, while Percy lost and won sums every night one met him that might have dressed her as well as anyone. "I'd be so grateful I I should like so much to hear of other pupils if I could." "Well, I'll remember you," said Ford, and as he went off home he swore to him self under his breath that the girl was too good for the life. He and "his missusv talked it over between them. It was the missus who had the brilliant idea. He went round to see Celia the next evening, full of a suggestion, and eager to hear what she thought of it. "We've been thinking, the missus and me, that it'd be an attraction to our show if we had a little piano-playing. You see, it gives a kind of mystery to the thought-reading if you've slow music played while it goes on. We've been thinking if you'd care to come and help us with the seances—do the play- ing part and help the missus dress, and take the tickets at the door, and all that- we'd be glad to take you on regular." It was an offer that came at a fortunate moment. Their finances had been terribly low of late. She had been on the rack of anxiety more than once about their weekly payments. Now, if she could so easily make a little to help, it would make things better. She accepted gladly. Just at first she felt a little nervous as to whether she could provide what the Fords wanted. But presently she was reassured. As long as one kept on steadily with slow music, all through the performance, making a kind of undercurrent, it was all they de- manded. She learnt to take the tickets at the door, sell tickets, give change. She would get to the little shabby room early to dress Mrs. Ford in the robes that were sup- posed to lend an additional attraction to her performances. Then she would do her ticket work, slip away when the performance began, and sit at the piano through the hour that followed. It was not hard work by any means, and the Fords were kind. Their exhibition of thought-reading inte- rested her greatly. Privately she used to try if she could do it when she got home late at night. She was surprised to dis- cover how easily she could copy Mrs. Ford- how much further she seemed able to go on her own initiative than Mrs. Ford had gone. And that was the key to a sudden change in her life again, as sudden as it was wonder- ful. (To be Continued.) I •"
I WHEN SOLDIERS MARRY.I
I WHEN SOLDIERS MARRY. There are no rules at present in force in the British Army to prevent a soldier marrying. Before the war, of course, a soldier, to have his wife officially recognised, had to obtain his commanding officer's con- sent. In the Continental armies the authori- ties are usually much stricter over the mar- riage question, both as regards officers and men. Every Prussian officer, for example, can only marry after he has received per- mission from the Kaiser. To obtain that permission he has to fill in papers giving full particulars of his intended bride and all about her family. He must also have the, consent of his commanding officer and show that he has a private income of his own if he is below a certain rank. Until within the last few years no French officer could marry unless the lady had an income of at least X50 a year. Though that has been done away with, every officer in the French Army must get the consent of the Minister for War, and produce satisfactory evidence of the moral character and life of his future wife. A Russian officer is not allowed to marry under the age of twenty- three except by express permission of the Tsar. Like officers in other Continental armies, he has to obtain the consent of his commanding officer. Great Britain and America, indeed, are practically the only two countries who allow officers to marry without the permission of the authorities.
I _RENEWING RAILWAY LINES.
I RENEWING RAILWAY LINES. Many people think that railway lines hardly ever want renewing. A steel rail is in its old age, however, in its tenth year, though some on local lines last twice that amount of time. In the big railway junc- tions and termini the rails are continually being renewed. At points and on curves the lines wear out very much more quickly than on those sections which are straight. They also wear away rapidly at stations, where the wheels are often locked by the brakes and tear off a thin coating from the rail top. When the surface of a rail on a main line is worn down too much for safe travelling, it is taken up and put on a siding. When it is beyond further use it is sold to steel and iron merchants, who melt it down and turn it into iron fencing, cheap iron rods, and in- deed all the odds-and-ends of cheap iron and steel ware. It is no use going to a railway company and offering to buy a ton of rails, or even fifty tons. When rails are sold they go at the rate of thousands of tons at a time. An order for 10,000 toils of second- hand railway lines is nothing out of the common.
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A farmer who was before the Yarmouth tribunal said he was so short of labour that he himself worked from half-past three in the morning until it was dark, and another said he had worked all day Sunday as weE as week-days for eighteen months.
MAN CONCEALED IN A BOX ON…
MAN CONCEALED IN A BOX ON RAIL- WAY STATION. A thief concealed in a box is supposed to have played the leading part in a daring robbery of jewellery that has taken place at the New-street Railway Station, Birming- ham. The circumstances point to the probability of a skilful gang being at work. A traveller in the employ of a Birmingham firm of manufacturing jewellers arrived at the station from Bath, bringing with him three leather cases containing a large selection of jewellery. These were placed in a cloak- room. Shortly afterwards two men left two large wooden boxes at the same cloak-room, and these were placed by the attendant close to the jewellery" cases. Towards midnight the cloak-room was locked up, as usual, for the night. Some time later the two men called for the boxes, saying they wished to leave by an early London train. The cloak-room was accord- ingly unlocked, and the two boxes removed. One appeared to be heavy, and the other almost empty. No suspicion, however, was aroused until the following morning, when the traveller called for his cases. It was then found that one case was- mis- sing and the other had been tampered with. The stolen case contained gold rings, brooches, necklets, etc., some of them set with didtyonds, the total value being esti- mated at from X6,000 to £ 8,000. It is conjectured that concealed in one of the two wooden boxes was a man who, when the cloak-room had been locked up, left his extraordinary hiding-place, and turned his attention to the jewellery cases. He is supposed to have conveyed one of the cases and its contents bodily into the box, and to have fastened himself inside again and waited until his confederates came and car- ried him away. A reward of £ 500 is offered for the dis- covery Of the thieves. a
A GRANDMOTHER'S CRIME. I
A GRANDMOTHER'S CRIME. I On a lonely Devonshire farm between Ottery and Honiton Anna Maria Wilming- ton, a widow, sixty-five, killed her grandson, William John Franks, nineteen. She shot him twice while he was asleep in bed. She con- fessed that she killed her grandson, to whom she was greatly attached, rather than that he should become a soldier or be turned out of his home by relatives. She said, "I thought I was doing a grand thing."
I DEAN CRITICISES BISHOP.…
I DEAN CRITICISES BISHOP. I Speaking at St. Margaret's, Westminster, on Sunday morning, the Dean of Durham said that he had heard that a popular bishop had assured a large congregation that victory was being delayed because of the sine of an allied people, and he had even specified the particular sins of that people. The Dean referred to a rebuke which Christ passed to similar moralists in ancient Palestine: "Think ye these Galileans were sinners above all Galileans?"
IHEIR TO LORD TOWNSHEND.I
I HEIR TO LORD TOWNSHEND. I An heir has been born to the Townshend marquisate at Avenue-road, Regent's Park, London. The Marchioness and the little Viscount Raynham are stated to be doing well. Lady Townshend, who was married in 1905 to the sixth marquis, was the daughter of Mr. Thomas Sutherst, a barrister, who ,wag drowned in the Lusitania disaster. General Townshend, the defender of Kut, cousin of the marquis, was the heir pre- sumptive.
DRUGS FOR SOLDIERS.I
DRUGS FOR SOLDIERS. I The Army Council has issued the follow- ing Order: "No person shall sell or supply any article specified in the schedule to this Order to or for any member of H.M. Forces unless ordered for him by a regis- tered medical practitioner on a written prescription, dat and signed by the prac- titioner with his full name and qualifica- tions, and marked with the words Not to be repeated.' and unless the person so sell- ing or supplying shall mark the prescrip- tion with his name and address and the date on which it is dispensed. "Barbitone, benzamine, lactate, benza- mine hydrochloride, chloral hydrate, coca, cocain, codeine, diamorphine, Indian hemp, opium, morphine, sulphonal, and its homo- loo-ues, and all other salt, preparations, de- rivatives. or admixtures prepared therefrom or therewith." ♦
ISUNK WITHOUT WARNING.-I
I SUNK WITHOUT WARNING. I Dr. Af acnamara. Parliamentary Secre- tary to the Admiralty, has stated in the Commons that the number of the unarmed British merchant vessels which had been torpedoed without warning between May 7, 1915, and May 7, 191&, WM thirty-seven, and the numWr of neutral 'ressCL tor- pedoed between the same dates was, accord- ing to the evidence available, twenty-two. He understood that these particulars were known to the United States Government.
IA PLUCKY BOY.I
I A PLUCKY BOY. I Å pluckv bov of sixteen named William Wrate who dived into the Thames in "his best clothes in an attempt. to save a little girl aged eleven, who had fallen in, was complimented bv the Westminster coroner for his gallantry. "I will give you a sove- reign to mark my appreciation." he said. The jury recommended the lad to the lOtice of the Royal Humane Society.
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"You have given me a lot of texts, and now I'll give you one," said Mr. Maclean, M.P., chairman of the House of Commons Appeal Tribunal, to a young Plymouth Brother. "Look up Numbers 32, verse 6, and you will find these words: Shall your brethren go to the war and shall ye Bit here?'"
-■ -—-———.. RUSSIANS AT MARSEILLES.
-■ -—-——— RUSSIANS AT MARSEILLES. Everyone remembers the landing of the Russians in this country—which never took place. But a number of Russian troops really have been landed in France. A contingent is here seen falling in for parade on the quayside at Marseilles.
CANTEEN IN THE FIRING LINE.
CANTEEN IN THE FIRING LINE. This picture shows a shell-proof canteen belong-ing- to a British battery in the front lines at Salonica. [Official photograph issued by the Press Bureau. ]
SALONICA "GARDEN CITY."
SALONICA "GARDEN CITY." These British officers in Salonica have their quarters in a charming garden with terraces, trees, and flower-beds, laid out 0;: a site which a few weeks ago was a barren wilderness. [Official photograph issued by the Press Bureau.] I i
I, IN HOSPITAL.i
I, IN HOSPITAL. i 'Excellent hospitals have been established at the Front for the care of sick or wounded horses. The patien.ts have the benefit of the very finest veterinary skill. In the photograph" vets f. are seen chloro- forming a horse before an operation.
FORTUNES OF WAR. I -I
FORTUNES OF WAR. I Romantic stories are being related at Cardiff of the huge fortunes amassed by shipowners and coalowners during the war. One shipowning firm is reputed to have made profite amounting to three million pounds. Instances are also told of young clerks, earning about X3 a week at the beginning of the war, who saw their oppor- tunity and invested in the purchase of old steamers. As a result of their enterprise they have now become comparatively wealthy men.
DETECTIVE IN SILK HAT.
DETECTIVE IN SILK HAT. A detective who attired himself in a top hat and tail coat succeeded by this means in capturing two well-known pickpockets who were loitering in Trafalgar-square, London, W.C., amongst the crowds. He told the magistrate at Bow-street Police-court on Saturday that the men knew him well, but did not recognise him in his unfamiliar garb. The men were senteuced to three months' imprisonment, each with haxd labour.
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In order to use to the fullest extent the resources of Archangel and the White Sea ports for the sucoessful prosecution of the war tbeRussian Government have decided to prohibit, except under special permission, entrv into these ports of all cargoes not des- tined for purposes of national defence.
HEART BEATS.
HEART BEATS. The human heart beats from seventy to 150 times a minute, and each beat means work equivalent to raising a 21b. weight 1ft. If this does not seem like work, try to hit a 21b. weight seventy to 150 times a minute. Anything that quickens the heart's action increases its labour. Accurate tests have shown that a man riding a bicycle up a ten per cent. grade for 2.904ft. in four minutes adds an amount of labour to his heart that would lift a ton and an eighth lft. Violent physical exertion of any kind quickens the heart, beats. Strong emotion has the same effect. Intense anger may Increase the heart's labour from 1501b. per minute to 2251b. Under such a strain the heart of an animal has been known to literally break, I causing almost instant death. According to a heart specialist, he who retires to bed at ten instead of twelve saves the heart 8/6,000 foot-pound a year. Lying down one half- hour dailv lessens its labours In the same period by' 219,000 foot-pounds. ———-— —————
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Mr. Samuel, Home Secretary, has said it was not practical or desirable to insist that newspaper articles should be signed. A witness stated at Cierkeinvvll County- court that he drove a horse cab in London for thirty years and never had an accident, When a man wa? snmmoned at E?ns'-tou for not sending hi? little girl. aged H>. to | school, he said he had lost his v-ife, and the girl was kept, at. home to lock his seven other childrcn. i