[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] LUCK AT THE DIAMOND FIELDS. BY DALRYMPLE J. BELGRAVE (BARRISTER- A T- LAW). A TALE OF THE KIMBERLEY COACH. CHAPTER I—(Continued.) The next morning when the coach started, several black eyes and damaged faces bore witness to the dis- turbance of the night before. Aarons was badly marked, and seemed by no means to have recovered t,he rough handling he had received; for he was much less cheerful than he had been, and his conversation for some time wss confined to a few muttered vows of vengeance against Darrell. Jim Brawnston, too, had the satisfaction of being able to admire the colour he had put on to the faces of Aarons' two friends. The treatment seemed to have been very beneficial in tak- ing the insolence and noise out of the patients who had been subjected to it, and in consequence the journey became much pleasanter; and after all it was not so bad as it had promised to be. Brawn- ston had plenty of stories to tell of South African adventure. After Darrell expressed his remorse at having been to a certain extent the cause of the un- seemly broil of the night before, and had been for- given by Kate, as he was soon enough, a sympathy that became stronger every day grew up between them. It was on the fourth day of their journey that the coach had outspanned at a farm-house by the road- side, and Kate and Darrell were sitting under some trees in the garden of the farm-house, by the edge of a cool shaded pool of water. There is a certain charm about those South African farms which most travellers in the country must have experienced. One seems to have never before enjoyed seeing trees and the soft green of vegetation until one has travelled for miles in the desert. The few bright flowers and the patch of waving maize are more grateful than in a country of fields and trees the most carefully tended garden could be. One of the team of mules which had been inspanned at the last station had turned sick, and the guard of the coach, careless of the remonstrance of the other passengers, who were in a hurry to get to their journey's end, had prolonged their outspan for some hours to give the sick beast time to get round. Neither Darrell nor Kate were indignant at the delay or were in a hurry to start. They had only known each other for a few days, but already they felt as if they were old friends. Those long days of travelling across the stretches of desert veldt can be pleasant enough. There is something in the atmosphere and surroundings of the country that makes one forget the past, and feel careless of the future; it has the same effect upon one's mind as the sea has. One gets the feeling of rest and distance, and begins to fancy that one has little to do with oneself, as one was once in other lands that seem so far away. There is nothing to be met with that re- minds one of the rest of the world. The strings of laden waggons slowly wending their way over the veldt to the distant Diamond Fields, give an idea of carelessness about time, and worry, and the world in general. The sleepy looking farm-houses, where there is none of the thriving bustle of other lands—and everything suggests progression only at ox-waggon pace—help to carry out the idea. In those days Darrell had learnt almost all that there was to learn about this companion's history, but had in return told her very little about himself, though she had gathered from what he said that he had seen a good deal of life, had lived most of his life in good society, was a gentleman, but for some reason or other, so she fancied, the memory of his past life was painful to him, though she was sure that his story had not been discreditable. As they sat in the shade looking at the group of passengers collected round the sick mule, and listening lazily to the voice of the member of the Legislative Ass^Iy, who was denouncing the guard for not inspanning at once, the same thought was in both their minds- their journey would soon be at an end, and very likely they would never see each other again for the farm she was going to was sixty miles from Kimber- ley, while he was going to the Yaal River diggings. One thought had been for some time in his mind. Why should his whole life be wrecked because of that act of folly in his youth ? Did not the thousands of miles that separated him from England break the shameful tie he loathed ? Who need ever know that, George Darrell, digger of Red Shirt Rush, Vaal River, was the same man as Darrell of the Lancers, who like a fool made his good old name shameful by giving it to the woman he had married. He cursed his folly as he remembered himself little more than a boy marrying a woman years older than himself, who, wild as he was then, was as much his inferior morally as she was socially. It was the life he had been leading which had left him weak enough to become drunk with that woman's coarse beauty, he told himself, as he cursed the folly of that one sin, for which fate never forgives a man, which he bad committed. She did not want anything more from him. He had settled all he had on her before he left England for ever; she had got all she married him for, and would not bother him any more. Why should he not forget all about her and his old life ? Yes," he said, partly answering something she had said and partly continuing his own thoughts there is something in this country that gets rid of old memories, hopes, and ambitions. Four as five generations of it have turned the descendants of knightly French Huguenots into the dull brutish Dutch Boers one meets here, who have not two ideas in their heads beyond eating and sleeping, and are far less civilised than the Kaffirs. Yes, it's a good country to forget in." I hope not," she answered; I don't want to forget my past; I have plenty of happy 'memories." As she spoke a sad look came into her eyes. "You have a past you can look back on with plea- sure I can only curse my folly when I look back," be said bitterly. For a second or two he was silent struggling with himself. Why should he suppose that she would take any interest in hearing the shameful secret of his life ? but something told him that he had better tell it. Then without leading up to it, he told her the story of his marriage, and about the woman in Eng- land who was his wife. Very clumsily he told it, but he felt all the better when he had got it out. At first when she heard his story she realised how much she had begun to care for this man whom she had known only a few days then she felt angry with herself for feeling so much interested in his history, and determined that he should never know that she had not listened to it with perfect indifference. What a fool I was to think that she would care I might have saved myself the trouble of telling her my private affairs, Darrell said to himself, when, having listened to him with ostentatious unconcern, she made some excuse to leave him and go to the coach. When he came up Bome ten minutes after he found that she had left the party. The people to whose farm she was going had been to Kimberley, and on their way back they had come round to meet the coach. She was to go with them, and had got into their waggon. The horses were inspanned to the coach; he had only time to say uood-bve when they started off. Would they ever meet again, he thought, as he looked back over the flat at the waggon, until it became a white speck on the horizor CHAPTER II. A TEAR had passed since Kate said good-bye to George Darrell. Her life seemed to her to be divided into three volumes-her early life, the journey up to the Diamond Fields, and her present life at Jagger's Drift. The last volume seemed likely to be dull enough. Day after day passed without any strange face coming or any incident happening. The family consisted of Mr. Van Beers, a good-natured old Dutchman, who slept a good deal, and had very little to say for himself when he was awake his wife, who had never time to attend toanylhing but the children, of whom there were about a dozen, the eldest a boy of fourteen, the youngest an infant in arms. Taking it altogether, Kate's life was a fairly happy one, for though it was dull, there was very little to trouble her, and it was free from many of the little vexations which would be her lot at home. One drawback of it was, that she had too much time for thinking, and her thoughts curiously often went back to the incidents of the journey up, and she often in her mind's eye saw the face of George Darrell as it looked when he blurted out the secret of his life. From that day she had never heard of him little news ever came to .Tagger's Drift, and none would be likely to come of such an obscure person as George Darrell, digger, of Red Shirt Rush, Vaal River. That digging she had heard was up the river some sixty miles off. Many a time she had looked up stream and wondered how he was faring, and whether he still ever thought of her. The Homestead at Jagger's Drift was a large, one-storied house, with a garden running down to the river. On the other side the house fronted a long flat, stretching far away to a range of low hills in the distance. A dozen or so of wood waggons would pass every day on their way to the Diamond Fields, but there was little other traffic. Across the river was Gordon, a place which some speculative people fondly believe is destined to be an important centre in the future. It had, for reasons known to the authorities at Capetown, and to no one else, been chosen as the seat of the magis- tracy for a large district, and there was a magistrate's house, a jail, and some police tents while a court- house was being built. There were also two canteens, in one or the other of which in turn the spare popu- lation collected and listened to the proprietor of the establishment as he cursed his rival. The new Government buildings were to be on a grand scale, quite up to what Gordon was destined to become in the future, according to the estimate of the most sanguine believers in it. They mock us with their buildings," was the opinion often expressed by Jack Johnstone, the Civil Commis- sioner's clerk, as he looked at the new erections with a malevolent eye, for be had applied persistently and in vain for an increase of his salary, and he looked upon all other expenditure of Government money as a personal insult. Blessed if they haven't brought a lot of white convicts over here to muddle away at that cursed place," he said to M'Flucker the canteen-keeper one afternoon, as, with a pipe in his mouth, he stood out- side the latter's store, and looked towards the hated erection, where some Kaffirs and white men were working listlessly as convicts do work. "That's not a lag's face, I'd have bet; if I had seen it anywhere else I'd have sworn that fellow was a gentleman and an honest man; he looks it, though he has got a broad arrow stamped on his shirt," he said, as he noticed one convict, a tall man, who looked very un- like his companions. "But I dare say he is the biggest scoundrel of the lot," he added. Just then Kate Gray, who had come across the river with some of the young Van Beers, walked past the building. Johnstone, as he watched her with a good deal of admiration, noticed that she was also looking in the direction of the tall convict who had attracted his attention. To his surprise he felt almost certain that he saw their eyes meet with a glance of recognition. She seemed to start and almost pause for a second. The convict pushed his hat over his eyes, and stooped over his work as if he did not wish to be recognised. By Jove, I'd have bet those two know each other, or have seen each other before, but it must be only a fancy though—it isn't likely," Johnstone thought to himself, as he took off his hat and shook hands with Miss Gray. After they had talked for some time about the few subjects for conversation that their life at Gordon afforded-the health of M'Fluker the store-keeper's wife, the date of the return of the magistrate at Gordon, who was away on leave, and the fact that the river was rising—Miss Gray turned the conversation to the subject that had interested them both. "Who are those men working at the court-house, —the white men I mean ?" she asked, as Johnstone thought, with considerable interest. "They are gentlemen who are working for her gracious Majesty without pay, and receiving their board and lodging gratis." You mean they are convicts. What sort of of- fences do you suppose they have committed, and where do they come from ?" They have come from Kimberley, and they may have committed any offence, but it's long odds that they have bought diamonds—that's their special weakness on the fields." Bought diamonds !—why I should have thought that was just what diamond diggers wanted people to do." "Bought diamonds that the Kaffirs have stolen from their master's claims, I mean; those men, how- ever, have probably made a mistake, and been caught by the police. When the police see that the wily il- licit diamond buyer is well on the feed they throw one of their flies, and send him a Kaffir with a dia- mond to sell. If the fish rises to the fly and buys, they strike, find the diamond, and haul the 1. D. B. up before the court, when he gets five years. It's a pretty sport is trapping 1. D. B.'s, and these are most likely some of the many fish who have been caught." What a wretched mean business it stems to be, but I'm sure he could not have been trapped." Hallo, so you talk about him as he,' do you ?" thought Johnstone. You mean the tall convict; I was looking at him just now, and wondering what his history was. Well, if he has a long sentence, if I were he, I'd make a bolt for it. The convict guards are always more or less asleep, and I'd chance their shooting straight. I suppose it would not be much good though, one could never get away across the veldt without a horse." If he had a horse do you think he would get off Where could he get to ?" Sixty miles north he'd be out of the reach of the police, in Stellaland, where there is a lot of rough work going on, and anyone who had plenty of pluck would find men who would welcome him as a comrade and care very little whether he had a broad arrow stamped on his shirt or not." Ah, well, perhaps he is used to being a convict,, and does not care to escape," Kate said, for she felt that perhaps she was unwise in showing so much interest in the convict's fate. "Perhaps he is; don't know that it matters whether one is a convict or not, if one has to live in this country. Certainly, being in their infernal civil service is next door to it," Johnstone answered, as he walked to the river-side with them. As he re- turned after seeing them cross, he wondered where ■ Kate could have seen the convict before. That they bad met he somehow felt certain. He was right; Kate had recognised George Darrell, her fellow- traveller in the coach, in the convict. He had had a run of bad luck since they had parted. First of all his old partner, Jim Brawnston, had been obliged to leave him, as one of his brothers had died, and he had been wanted on his father's farm in Natal. Then for a long time he had found no diamonds. After a bit, however, his luck seemed to have changed, and diamonds began to turn up on his sorting-table. The queer thing about those diamonds was, that they were unlike river stones, and much more of the appearance of the stones found in the mines. The diamond buyers to whom he sold seemed, he thought, to look at thfjm and him rather queerly when he brought them out to sell. He did not, how- ever, trouble himself much about this. While he was working at his claim, not over rejoiced at the slight turn of luck he was experiencing, as he had hardly any ambition to make money, one day a conversation took place in the office of. the head of the police in Kimberley, which would have opened his eyes if he had heard it. There had been a good deal of what is called illicit buying down the river for some time. Per- sons who had bought stolen diamonds, and wished to dispose of the diamonds advantageously, had taken to get men who pretended to be river diggers, to pro- fess to have found them in their claims, and sell them advantageously. Stolen diamonds are rather awkward property to dispose of, as dealers have to keep registers by which diamonds can be traced back to the diggers who first found them; so it was an advantage to give a diamond that had been stolen a fictitious history. The head of the police had determined to put a stop to this practice, and had sent a man down the river to see what was going on. The information he had received had surprised him a good deal, and at first he hardly believed it. "What, Darrell of Red Shirt Rush in this ? Why, I should have thought be was straight," he was saying to one of the detec- tives, who had come in to see him with another man. It ain't the first time, sir, you've thought that about a party we have found to be pretty deeply in the trade now this man here sold Darrell as many as half-a-dozen diamonds which we can swear to, and which we can prove he has sold again is not that so, Seers?" the detective said, turning to the ill- looking, undersized man who had come in with him. Yes, sir, he has bought 'em off me; he has been buying for this last twelve months to my knowledge and working off illicit stuff from his claims," the man answered, his eyes as he spoke wandering about furtively, looking anywhere except into the face of the person he spoke to. Well, I suppose there is no doubt about it. It's high time some one was made an example of down the river: you and Sergeant Black had better go down and trap Darrell, with this man Seers," the head of the police said after he had talked for some time. "Look here," he added, calling the detective on one side, "thatfellow is an infernal scoundrel, and are yon sure he is not humbugging us ?" Well, sir, white traps mostly are infernal scoun- drels, but what he says is right enough about Darrell. What object bhould he have in telling us what was wrong ?—besides, I don't think he would try and foo me," the detective said with a grin, which expressed considerable satisfaction with his own astuteness. Two evenings after this conversation, the man Seers came into Darrell's tent, pretending that a mate of his was ill, and be wanted to be given some brandy. Darrell knew the man by sight, having seen him lately hanging about the diggings, and bad not been much prepossessed by his appearance. He was civil enough to him, however, telling him he had got no brandy, and listening to his description of his mate's illness. The man talked away for a few minutes, and then went to the opening of the tent, gave a shout, and then in a second, to Darrell's astonishment, two men, one of whom he knew by sight as a Kimberley de- tective, made their appearance. In a twinkling they had handcuffed him, searched him and the tent, and found a diamond in a pannikin near his bed. Darrell's protestations of his innocence went for very little, and in the course of another twenty-four hours he found himself a prisoner in Kimberley jail, wait- ing a trial for buying a diamond illicitly. On his trial it proved that Seers had been searched before he went into the tent, and had no money upon him when he came out he had ten sovereigns in his possession. The detectives were able to swear to the diamond found in Darrell's possession as the one they had given Seers before he went into the tent. The case seemed to be exactly like the ordinary cases of trapping that come before the courts at Kimberley almost every week. The judge who tried it expressed his opinion that it was one about which he had not the slightest doubt as to the prisoner's guilt, and sentenced him to hard labour for five years. The crime of buying stolen diamonds is considered on the Fields one of the most heinous of offences, those who are convicted of it being seldom allowed to escape without a severe punishment. After Darrell had done some of his sentence in the Kimberley jail, he had been sent with some other convicts to work at Gordon, so that was how it came to pass that Kate recognised her travelling companion in the tall convict. (To be continued.)
I THE ANDRE MEMORIAL. With regard to the Andre memorial at Bath, a correspondent informs the St. Tames's Gazette that during Dean Stanley's visit to Ameriea. he wns the guest of the correspondent's father, on the Fudson River. At the Dean's request a search was made in the vicinity to identify the place where the remains of the unfortunate Major Andie had lain before their removal to England. The search was success- ful, and a stone was erected on the spot, on which the Dean wrote the following inscription: Here died, October 2, 1780, Major John Andr6, of the British Army, Who, entering the American lines, on a Secret Mission to Benedict Arnold For the Surrender of West Point, Was taken prisoner, tried and condemned as a Spy. His death, "hough according to the stern Code of War, Moved even his enemies to pity, And both Armies mourned the fate of one so young and brave. In 1821 his remains were removed to Westminster Abbey. A hundred years after his execution, r This stone was placed above the spot where he lay, By a citizen of the States against which he fought; Not to perpetuate the record of strife, But in token of those better feelings Which have since united two nations One in race, in language, and in religion I With the earnest hope that this friendly union Will never be broken. Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, Dean of Westminster.
That wicked flea kept me awake all night, simply because I forgot to get a tin of KEATING'S POWDER. the unrivalled Killer of Fleas, Beetles, Lice in Chil- dren's Heads. Sold everywhere in 3d., 6d., and Is. Tins. Filled Tin Bellows, 9d. Harmless to every- thing but insects. IT is understood that Mr. F. W. Walker, High Master of St. Paul's School, in London, is about to retire from the position which he has held with great distinction for 24 years. Mr. Walker, who will be 70 years old next month, is an old Rugbeian and Fellow of Corpus Christi, Oxford. He had a very distinguished academic career, and for eight years ■—from 1859 to 1867- Was High Master of Man- chester Grammar SchooL
MANAGER We must put a good deal of realism in this wood scene. Can you get someone to growl so as to resemble a bear ?" Assistant: I think so. There are six or seven actors who haven't received their salaries for ten weeks. I'll call them. A BURGLAR who bad entered a poor minister's house at midnight was disturbed by the awakening of the occupant of the room he was in. Drawing his knife, he said," If you stir, you are a dead man. I'm hunt- ing for money." Let me get up and strike a light," said the minister. and 111 hunt with vou,"
ART AND LITERATURE. I MR. STANHOPE FORBES. A.R.A., has been awarded a gold medal by the International Jury of the Pari Kxhibi^ion for his picture The Smithy." Mr. Forbes received a similar honour at the Exhibitior of 1889. PHOFESSOR FLINDERS PETRIE has proposed a via media between the way of the bill of the British Museum trustees and that of its out-and-out oppo- nents. His suggestion is that a cheap and accessible repository near London should be provided for the less important surplus of the ever accumulating mass of printed matter. To scatter or destroy what can Dpver be replaced is, he says, the counsel of despair To try to keep everything in most expensive housing. in London is the counsel of unimaginative short- sightedness. MR. HERMAN MERIVALE, to whom Mr. Balfour has granted a pension on the Civil List, is probably most widely known as the author of the play Forget- Me-Not," which, with Miss Genevieve Ward's striking impersonation of the heroine, made a dis- tinct impression on playgoers in the early eighties. He was also, it will be remembered, the adapter of The Bride of Lammermoor for dramatic produc- tion by Sir Edward Irving as Eavenswood, and was the author of the English version of Sardou's "Fedora." His novel, "Faucitof Balliol," was but a faint anticipation of Miss Corelli's enterprise in bringing "Faust" up to date. He edited the "Annual Register" for some dozen years. Mr. Merivale is a vear or so over 60. IR. H. R. FRANCIS, who died a few days ago at the great age of 89, was a grandson of Sir Philip Francis, the man, they say, who ought to have been Junius," but wasn't. Six years ago Mr. Francis published Junius Revealed by his Surviving Grandson," a book, the Athen.mum, thinks, which did not carry conviction except to the people who believe in spite of evidence. The nnregenerate reader could find it in his heart to wish that the reputed Junius's grandson had really succeeded in proving something because, though Mr. Francis is dtead that distressing Junian controversy isn't. A FASCINATING collection of pictures by Dutch masters is at present being exhibited at the Burling- ton Fine Arts Club. It is, perhaps, a little unequal in merit, but it includes many things that are abso- lutely in the first, rank of Dutch art of the best period. Terburgh's "Game of Picquet," Metsu's The Intruder," Le Chevalier Amoureux," by Franz van Mieris, Le Soldat et la Fille qui rit," by Van der Meer, and landscapes by Hobbema, Karl du Jardin, Van de Capella, Wouvermann, and Ruysdael are to be reckoned among the contribu- tions of most commanding importance, but there are many other noted pictures in the exhibition. Such a show makes a very strong appeal to everyone who enjoys exquisite craftsmanship and artistic indivi- duality of a convincing kind. COWPER has at last met the fate that sooner or later, and generally sooner, overtakes all British bards. A Cowper Society has been formed, the main object of whf.h is "The publication of the unpub- lished writings of WiTiam Cowper, and of manu- scripts and original ess ys 'elating to him and his circle." Some such associations—the "Browning Society" in particular, which was the first, as Tenny- son drily remarked, ever needed to explain a poet's work during his lifetime "have bt"cn intended to assist loving but puzzled students to make out what the writings they so much admire were meant to convey. Cowper certain'y needed no such exposi- tory disciis-ions, and his society does not seem to in- clude the elucidation of obscure passages in its pro- gramme. In tlvs it i" well advised, since of no work of his could it be sa'd, as Carlyle is alleged to have declared after an all-night sitting with his wife over "Sordello," that it was impossible to discover whether the title referred to a man, a place, or a book. THE openinz of the new rooms at the Tate Gallery has made possible a very thorough rearrangement of the collection there. In the first three rooms are placed the pictures which were transferred from Trafalgar-square; the next two rooms contain the canvases presented by Sir Henry Tate; to the Chantrey collection are assigned four rooms on the eastern side of the building and one other room is occupied by the pictures given by Mr. G. F. Watts. Three of the larger galleries are still in reserve-, so that there is space available for a considerable in- crease of the collection. At the present rate of pro- gress, however, no great period of time will elapse before the building is completely filled, and a diffi- culty will then arise that might have been avoided by a little more foresight on the part of the Govern- ment that granted the site for the gallery. THE praiseworthy desire to preserve all buildings with which great names and events have been associated seems not altogether jti-tified in the case of No. 8, Parkshot,, Richmond, which was the first home of George Eliot, and George Henry Lewes, and the birthplace of "Scenes of Clerical Life" and Adam Bede." A correspondent of the Academy wonders: "if it is not wise and practicable to secure the permanent existence of the house (the demoli- tion of which is very imminent) and its ii-P in some way to the benefit of Richmond and of London in definite memory of George Eliot. There will be difficulties, because the cottage is the centre one of three. I should like to see the centre one actually acquired and preserved and placed under trustees." COMMENTING on the fact that Ruskin's literary executors. Mrs. Severn, Dr. Charles Eliot Morton, and Mr. Wedderburn, are at present occupied with the question of an authorised biography, a writer in Literature asks whether there is any chance of Professor Norton himsblf undertaking the task of editing Ruskin's diary, notes, and correspondence. The suggestion was made some time ago in this journal. There can be no doubt that the distin- guished man of letters to whom we owe the Lowell Letters and the Early Letters of Carlyle is the man above all others fitted for the task. It m:ght almost be said that he is the only one of Ruskin's friends possessing the right combination of knowledge, sympathv, judgment,, and literary skill. But Dr, Norton is an old man, and the work of raising a worthy monument to Ruskin is more than sufficient for a man in his prime. BRADFIELB COLLEGK, where the "Agamemnon of ^Rschylus has been performed, had (remarks the Echo) v a curious origin. It grew up. so to spenk, in sp:tp oF its founder, who was described by Jowett as the funny old gentleman who had tied a school up to a church." He was a certain Thomas Stevens, squire and rector of the parish of Bradfield. Berks. Mozley says in his Reminiscences Whatever he did grew in his hands. Perhaps the spirit, of Oriel and the contagion of Newman told in that. He put his hand to his village church and it became a small cathedral. The little organ grew into a big one. Two or three village lads multiplied into a choir. They must have some education, and so there came a good school; two, indeed-one better than the other. The little school grew into a college, with magnificent buildings, on Stevens's own land, a few hundred yards from his front windows." Stevens was a queer character, as readers of Mr. A. F. Leach's history of the school, just published, may learn. His finances got hopelessly confused, and in 1881 the rectory was sequestrated, the manor and lands sold, and Stevens, after much pressure, induced to resign the Warden- ship. Bradfield College was reconstituted, and is now one of the most flourishing of public schools. Here is one of the stories illustrating the founder's oddity: "Once when a master, who had not been paid his salary, went to ask for it. and was told that he could not have it. he said. 'But, Mr. Warden, what am I to do?'and the Warden replied, in all seriousness, Read the Nicene Creed, my dear. When I have been in trouble I have always found great comfort in the Nicene Creed. SHAKESPEARE, Tennyson, and Dickens are the three authors from whom artists have drawn most inspiration of late, aa judged by the pictures of the year. The current Bookman has a good illustrated article on the subject, and a second article is pro- mised. Several of the Tennyson pictures reproduced are not truly illustrative they merely borrow their titles from the poet. Mr. John da Costa's picture in the Royal Academy. Una and the Wood Gods," is refreshing evidence that the "Faery Queen" is still read.
THE waiter obsequiously handed him a serviette. And the bucolic patron of the restaurant, gazing at him with a look of ferocious indignation, exclaimed, I'd let you know that I don't require no hints as to when it't necessary to use a handkerchief." "Do all your employes drop their tools the instant the whistle blows ?'' Oh, no, not all of them. The more orderly ones have t-b»ir tools put iway before that time;"
THE WOMAN'S WORLD, -I ALTHOUGH prevention is better than cure, it is well to know the actual symptoms that indicate the ap- proach of heat prostration. These are a hollow sen- sation in the stomach (says a doctor), followed by dizziness, headache, and sickness. In severe cases all perspiration is arrested. This latter symptom is very dangerous. A doctor should be consulted, and until he arrives perspiration should be induced by bathing the body in cold water. A person suffering from sunstroke should be immediately removed to a cool place, his clothing loosened, and perspiration in- duced, as in heat prostration, by the application of cold water. A WELL-DRESSED woman is one who pleases the eye of the beholder, and who, in modern society, manages to do this without extravagance or oddity in her choice of colour, material, or design of her cos- tume. She is sometimes defined as one who dresses so like her kind that no one remarks her slothes. No one considers a woman well dressed who is so merely on the surface, a fine frock and a fashionable hat over untidy underclothing-be it ever so much be- trimmed and beriifiled-hardl-, fulfils the conditions. Gorgeous and expensive stuffs, either inside or out, are not necessary, but a certain fineness in quality, however plain in the making up, distinguishes the wardrobes of a really well-dressed woman. FLOWERED ribbons (says "Eva," writing in the Star) are altogether amongst the newest and most expensive trimmings, and in broad sashes on simple cream and white muslin frocks tho effect is delightful, but, and this is an important but, the muslin is the softest and most clinging of materials, and the ribbons are of the newest arid most bewildering colouring, all this spell- ing extravagance when worn with a black picture hat of several layers of chiffon, together with the hundred and one trifles necessary for the toilet of a belle of to-day. HOUSEWIVES who are constantly lamenting their broken dinner services should remove this cause of offence from their servants by adopting the German plan. In Berlin plates made of papier-mache are used in many restaurants. They are so cheap that the proprietors can afford to throw them away after they have been once used. A STRAW hat of any kind may be cleaned nicely at home, with but little trouble or expense, in the fol- lowing manner: First brush all the dust out care- fully and rip off the bindings or trimmings, carefully picking out threads. Fill a pail half full of warm rain water and put in it a tablespoonful of pearline; then immerse the hat in it, moving it np and down until every fibre is wet. Lift it out of the water, lay it upon a board or table, and brush it thoroughly with a stiff brush. After all the dirt is removed, rinse it in clean warm water. Allow it to drip for a few minutes and then iron it, placing a thin cloth between the straw and the iron. Press the crown over a bowl, and when this is done press the brim, using the bare iron on the wrong side to make it stiff. Such hats will look as good as new, and save their owner many a shilling. She can also clean the ribbons with gasoline, by shaking them in a bottle, and drying in the open air. A LOVELY shoe of patent leather is called the "abbe" mae, with very high uppers and with a large chased silver buckle. The heel is square and a bit high and altogether it has a delightfully quaint air. The same odd shape is built in tan antelope leather with the buckle of dead gold. Another shoe of black has the "talon rouge of gallant memory. Red shoes with certain frocks are charming, and the usual white shoes for yachting come in extremely pretty shapes this year with kid trimmings. SILK linings are not always necessary for gowns of transparent materials, as cotton fabrics for that pur- pose are now manufactured in exceedingly good qualities and in every desirable shade. PINK and blue hats with short chiffon cape to. match are among the latest novelties. GOWNS made of alpaca are trimmed with stitched bands of the same material. A FAVOURITE waist trimming is flat bands of em- broidery in bright colours. THE flat trimmings now in fashion are very becom- ing to stout women. HERE is the way a resourceful girl has made t pretty effect for her room and a great convenience as well. She has a set of shelves, and to fit each of them is a box covered with a pretty chintz to match the colour of the stone room. There is a little strap to draw out these boxes as if they were drawers, though they have covers at the top to protect the contents from the dust. Each strap is marked-one veils, oae gloves, one handkerchiefs, &c. It is a useful arrangement, and any girl can make and fit up a similar set of shelves for herself. There are pretty little bamboo shelves that can be bought for one dollar and a quarter that would be excellent for this purpose, and the boxes can be a home product or bought at the shops. The latter would be, of course, much more expensive. FRESHEN wall paper by rubbing it briskly and tho- roughly with cotton flannel or flannelette, changing often for a fresh piece. If it still looks grimy, uss the freshly cut side of a loaf of stale bread (rubbing always in one way either up and down or crosswise). Grease spots can sometimes be removed by placing blotting paper over the spot and holding a hot iron against the former. THE young woman who looks mournfully in th" mirror upon the reflection of -bony neck and thio arms may do much to remedy the trouble with little, expense or effort. Olive oil is one of the most nutri- tious of food products, and a persistent and liberal use of salads aids materially in the acquisition of flesh. A salad of oranges and bananas, cut in small pieces and drenched freely in a French dressing, may be taken before going to bed without any injury to the digestive organs. Vegetable salads should be included in the luncheon and dinner menu every day. Fish salads made of the more delicate, white- fleshed fish are excellent, and sardines form a valu- able addition to the beauty bill of fare. FROM Paris comes word that the all-white dining- room is the latest vogue. Perhaps it is to be counted the logical next step after the long reign of the blue- and-white dining-room. To eliminate the blue waf easy, and there you have left the white. The all- white dining-room originated in St. Petersburg—the far north seems to provide us with all things colour- less, from polar bears to white dining-rooms. The ceilings and walls of such rooms are painted or papered in white; sometimes they are tapes- tried with white brocade. They are hung with white serge, satin, silk or brocade curtains, the electric side lights or gas brackets are of crystal or silver, or the two combined. In one Parisian white dining-room, silver chains were suspended from one electric side-light to another, all of them fastening to the chandelier in the middle of the room. The fierce light that beats upon a throne (says a fashion writer) is twilight com- pared to the fiercest light beating from a chandelier upon a woman in evening dress. Of course, the main thing to be considered about the white dining-room is, Is it becoming ?" We are assured that it is. Trust a Frenchwoman not to embrace anything, from house furnishiBg to fancy dress, that didn't enhance her own charms. The white dining-room sets off every woman who sits in it. To make your walking boots impervious to dew and rain soak the soles in warm tar. Then oil the uppers well and give them a coating of a mixture made with an ounce and a half each of shellac and white pine gum, a drachm each of sweet oil, Venice turpentine and lampblack, and half a pint of alcohol. One application will render any shoes waterproof.
HOME HINTS. SWEETBREAD CUTLETS. — When the sweetbreads have been properly prepared and simmered gently, drain them well, and when quite coid and firm cut them into small neat slices about one-<hird of an inch thick, and trim these as evenly as possible in shape and size season them pleasantly with salt, pepper, very finely-minced onion, salad oil, and lemon-juice, and let. them remain in a cool place for about an hour. so as to imbibe the full 1.1ayour of the various ingredients then egg and breadcrumb them in the usual way, and fry in hot clarified fat until coloured a lovely golden brown. When done enough, drain the cutlets thoroughly. arrange them neatly on a border of daintily-prepared potato puree, fill in the centre with green peas, French beans cut in lozenge shapes, buttered spinach, creamed cabbaae, or any other nice green vegetable, pour richly-coloured tomato sauce round about, and serve the whole very hot. A RAGOUT OF SWEETBREADS.—Prepare and cook the sweetbreads, and when quite co!d cut them up into quarter of an inch dice; put these inio a stew- pan with a liberal supply of prime streaky bacon pre- viously cooked and cut into julienne shreds, two or three hard-boiled eggs, and yolks cut in quarters and the whites into shreds like the bacon, a teaspoonful of finely-minced boiled onion, a seasoning to taste of salt, pepper, and grafed nutmeg, sufficient thick 1 creamy sauce-either maître d'hotel, parsley, tomato, or espagnol—to just nicely moisten the \\hole; then stir gently over a moderate fire until quite bubbling hot. after which dish up the ragout in the centre of a lightly browned potato border, arrange round about some mushrooms, which have been pleasantly seasoned and stewed gently in a little fresh pure butter until quite soft, and serve very hot. SWEETBREAD FRITTERS.—If sweetbreads are cooked specially for this dish, prepare the fritters, then, when they have lain in the seasonings sufficiently long, dip each one separately into thick rich frying batter, drop gently into boiling clarified fat, and fry until just daintily browned, after which drain thoroughly, pile upon a very hot dish, garnish round about with curled bacon, slices of fresh lemon, and sprigs of parsley, and serve immediately, as fritters of any kind should never be kept waiting. If, how- ever, it is more convenient, the fritters may be made as follows, and will be found equally, if not even more, dainty. Take the remains of cold cooked sweetbreads, no matter how small the pieces, and sup- posing there are fioz., put them into a chopping bowl with 4oz. of boiled ham or bacon and 2oz. of peeled mushrooms, and chop together very finely: then season nicely with salt, pepper, chopped parsley, and lemon-juice, and stir the mince into gpi. of thick, rich, frying batter; when thoroughly mixed drop the pre- paration about a tablespoonful at a time, into boil- ing clarified fat-sufficient in quantity to entirely cover them-and fry until well swollen out and coloured a rich golden brown, when they must be carefully removed from the pan and thoroughly drained. Serve as quickly as possible, piled up high on a hot dish, garnished with slices of fresh lemon and sprigs of parsley. Daintily fried, hot, crisp croutons form an exceedingly nice accompaniment to sweetbread fritters of either kind they should be neatly arranged on a hot dish-paper, and garnished with sprigs of parsley.—Marie, in the Agri-cultural Gazette. CHILDREN'S RASHES.—These generally result from improper feeding, and a change of diet to more diges- tible food will often effect a cure. At the same time, if a rash suddenly appears in a child not sub- ject to them, isolate it from the other children, and keep it very carefully from exposure to damp and cold till you find it is nothing serious or infectious. Nettle rash often looks like something much more serious. Eczema of some sort or another is the commonest skin trouble with children. The child usually needs cod-liver oil, malt extract, or some specially nutritious diet or tonic. If it is bad, and forms a crust, especially in the hair, zinc ointment or vaseline are the best outward applications. Be sure the child does not scratch. This only causes irritation and the spread of the mischief. Sulphur in soine-sirnple form is a good internal remedy. ApPLE PUDDING A LA REINE.-Put a layer of pared, cored, and sliced apples about two inches deep at the bottom of a deep dish, with sufficient sugar to sweeten somelemon juice and grated lemon peel, and a few cloves. Prepare a batter of half a pound of flour, a pint of milk, a thoroughly beaten egg, a pinch of salt, and a little baking powder. Pour this slowly and evenly over the apples, and bake in a quick oven for an hour. Sprinkle with sifted sugar, and serve hot. Cost, about 6d., enough for eight or nine pebple. A DELICIOUS WAY OF PREPARING CHOCOLATE.— Take four ounces of vanilla chocolate, one quart of milk, three tablespoonfuls of hot water and one of sugar. Scrape the chocolate finely. Boil your milk, and when at boiling point stand it at one side for a few minutes while you carefully mix the chocolate, sugar, and water in a china cup to a perfectly smooth paste. Put the milk on again, and stir in the paste. Bring it to the boil, and then beat well with a whiak. Serve quickly, putting a little whipped cream into each cup, and filling up with the chocolate. If you cannot, get vanilla chocolate, you can use the plain, unsweetened, with a teaspoonful of vanilla extract, and more sugar. This is a Viennese method of pre- paring chocolate. Cost, about 6d. or 7d. SCALLOPED COCKLES.—An excellent substitute for oysters. Wash in several waters, and leave in a basin of salt and water over night, covered; drain well, and put in a saucepan half full of boiling water cook till the shells open, then remove at once. Butter a dish, strew with a layer of breadcrumbs, add a layer of cockles, with a little fish sauce and season- ing. Repeat layers, ending with one of crumbs. Put a few bits of butter here and there, and brown in the oven. Cost, 4d. or 5d. for about six people. CARE OF YOUR PIANo.-Pianos are expensive instruments and well worth much care, which, how- ever, they frequently do not get, and, consequently, do not last half as long as they should do. In plac- ing your piano, the great thing is to avoid damp and draughts. A damp room will infallibly spoil the best piano, as the wood swells, and the metal wires rust. Therefore, if you must put your piano in a damp room, have a fire once a week even in summer, and oftener in damp weather have its feet on glass iso- lators do not put it close to the wall, and on fine days open your window and the top of the piano. A cottage piano looks much better across the corner of the room, with the performer's face and voice turned out towards the room. Finally, don't put heavy or jingling ornaments on the top of your piano. A WHOLESOME SWEr-T.-Take a very light cake of the sponge kind and halve it. Place it in a dish and pour over the divided cake a jugful of jelly made of pineapple juice. Should any other kind of jelly be preferred it will do just as well. Nearly all grocers in these days sell jelly squares," and these can be purchased for the purpose. When the whole thing has cooled and set, pour some whipped cream on the top and ornamentally deck your sweetmeat with pre- served cherries and angelica. This preparation will not injure the teeth or the digestive organs. It will have just the opposite effect. It will help to give rosiness to the cheek and impart health to body and mind. SOME LAUNDRY HINTs.-Wash pongee silk in warm soapsuds; do not boil or scald it; rinse thoroughly in several waters. Take down before it is quite dry, and roll it up without sprinkling. In half an heur it may be pressed smoothly with a moderately-hot iron. Black cotton stockings should be dried in a shady place, and smoothed with the hands on the ironing-board; but not ironed, as the heat fades them, and makes them a bad colour. If you wish to iron clothes easily, damp them down, roll lightly, and lay aside several hours before you wish to com- mence ironing. Embroidery should always be ironed on the wrong side, to bring out the design. It should be thoroughly dried. Baby's clothes should not be washed with soda, as this is a source of irritation and chafing to the delicate skin. Linen, after being ironed, should be placed near the stove or in the sun until perfectly dry, as the garments will be much etiffer than if left to dry slowly. To CLEAR THE COMPLEXION.—A thorough steam- ing has a wonderfully good effect occasionally in clearing the complexion. It may be accomplished by holding the face over a basin of hot water and keeping in the steam with a towel which covers the head and the basin, forming a sort of tent. After steaming for a short time, wash the face well with a good superfatted soap and warm water, and then douche the face with cold water. The soap does the work of cleansing, the hot water removes the sods, and the cold closes the pores of the skin, which it braces so that it is not made too sensitive to bear tht effects of cold winds or of sun.
HOPE is an airy substance which prevents HfeSt little despairs from melting into one bite one.