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[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] HER VANISHED LOVER. BY EDITH C. KENYON, Author of Which was the Heiress P" The II and f his Brother," "The Squire of Lonsdale," die. CHAPTER XX. SLATER IS CAUGHT. E is indeed looking down the orchard, flourishing her broom, and calling aloud for Sasan. She sees her now, and gesticulates to her to come. Then, all at once, she per- ceives Slater, and, with, a loud cry of menace, rushes towards him, her broom up- lifted ready for a fierce attack. "Jane! Jane! Stay where you are!" shrieks Susan, putting her short, square figure between the wrathful maid and her lover. Jane, however, makes a little detov/r, and goes for" Slater again, with redoubled ardour, crying out, "You varmint! You scum of the earth You rubbish and such like epithets. Taken by surprise-and indeed a yard- broom in the strong hands of an angry York- shire farmer's maid-servant is a formidable weapon—and knowing that his own arms, like our first guns in the South African war, cannot command an equal range with those of the enemy, there is nothing left for Slater to do but take to his heels. He accordingly presents the ridiculous figure of a man running away from a girl in abject terror. "Run! Run, Archie," shrieks Susan, **run." Archie runs. Indeed he has no thought of slackening speed until he gains the lane out- side the orchard and reaches his hunter tied to the fence. On its back he will be safe, away he can gallop, leaving the irate serving- wench, with her broom, to Susan's ansrer. So he thinks, swinging up into the saddle and clutching nervously at the bridle. But, alas, for his reckoning—there is Another factor to be taken into considera- tion "You hound!" shouts a manly voice at that moment. "You dog I Stay where you are, or I fire It is Dick in the lane, gun in hand, and a couple of dogs at his heels. He is returning from rabbit-shooting, and. now he points his gun point blank at Slater's head. The dogs set up loud barks, and look inquiringly at their master, uncertain what he is going to do with this strange quarry. The bully quails hdore this new and for- midable adversary. He knows Dick to be hot-headed and impulsive, quite capable, in fact, of acting first and thinking afterwards When the villain who behaved so atrociously to his beautiful sister is before him. It is firm belief that Dick will keep his Word and shoot him for his assault on his «ister if he does not at once surrender, and life is precious, even to the Slaters of this ivorld. Hands up, or I fire Dick continues in a lordly tone. "Surrender, you hound Slater throws his hands up wildly, making 3his horse back and plunge with fright. ""Mercy! mercy! I beg," he cries incan- guished tones, tears streaming down his -cheeks, his eyes almost starting from their sockets. "Coward!" ejaculates Dick, still covering him with his gun, "Arrant coward villain i .scamp!" "Put down that gun, I pray!" whines Plater. Dick grins maliciously, still pointing it. "If you move one inch I fire!" he says, grimly. The darkness is deepening. Dick becomes -conscious of Jane's presence, with her ",i)rooky). He looks inquiringly at her. Master Dick, 'twas I who drove him out-, of the orchard, with this 'ere broom!" she exclaims proudly. "The dirty scum!" she adds. Coward repeats Dick to Slater. Only- fit to be driven about by -,voryien I Ait, will you?" savagely, as his victim's eyes rove in ,search of some way of escape. Dismount at once." "How can I? You'll shoot me if I move," protests Slater abjectly. "Dismount, or I fire," repeats Dick. Slater slips off his now very restive horse, With alacrity. The animal breaks away from him, and dashes up the lane, pursued by the dogs, with sharp barks. The loss of his horse is a small matter tc the man in terror of losing his life. "Jane, you run up to the house, and get some stout cord," commands Dick. "Then you shall help me to tie him up. 'Tis fitting ithat he who affronts women should be dealt with by them." Jane, nothing loath, drops her broom, and sets off running to the house on her errand. A loud scream from her, the next moment, -•startles Dick, as he stands over Slater, still ,covering him with his weapon. Loud screams and angry cries from Susan, as well as Jane, now fill the air. The fact is Susan, unable to defend Slater but remaining anxiously in his neighbour- hood, has pounced upon poor Jane, with Whom she is having a stout battle. The domestic is handicapped by fear of her mistress's anger if she hurts Miss Susan, and also her sense of what is befitting in a ser- vant. Susan, being handicapped by nothing, 'Viciously pinches Jane, even pulling her hair and hitting and kicking her a-la-virago. Dick is so intensely interested that he feels lie must see what is going on. He therefore throws down his gun—it is not loaded, after all I-and, rushing at Slater, picks him up in his great strong arms, and carries him a few yards into the orchard, to a place where the combatants can be seen. Go it, Jane Well done, Jane I'll back you any day!" cries the li,d-lie is little inot-e-revellill" in the unseemly fight, and going back, as Jessie says afterwards, whole years in his civilisation. As for Slate/ he says nothing. He is very White, for Dick's grasp is most painful, and his head swims with dolorous anticipations. Indeed, as they watch, Dick lashes hirn, every now and then, with such choice arena ark ss as, I'll do for you shortly!" "We'll dip you in the pond." Or again, "We'll put you under the pump." Or, "vVe'Jl thrash you within an inch of your life." All which speeches make Slater writhe, whilst the hot perspiration stands in great, drops upon his brow. "011, what is the matter? What is the matter ? exclaims Jessie, running into the orchard from the house. "Susan! Susan! What are you doing? Jane Jane The two culprits unloosen their graso of one another, and stand abashed before Jessie, who appears greatly shocked. "Why, Susan," she is beginning, when Susan, knowing her conduct will not boar investigation, turns and runs away into the .house. Jane wipes her face, which is bloody, and her anns, which are terribly scratched, with strings of which are,torn off. • s she pants, "look there'" pointing triuittphjuil/ly' to 1,110 bottom of the orchard, Dick stands, shaking the 3imp figure ot a man. Wok ^by, whom has he there ? Oh, Dick, don 11 and never once thinking it could be Sia.,er, Jessie hurries down "the orchard, beseeching her brother to have mercv on his victim. "Dear Dick, release Lin)" she begs. "Aye, release him when I've adminis- tered n little wholesome punishment!" cries Dick "Just go to the fold, and tell Jim I want him here, Jessie, will you? Send him along quick!" Jessie has approached nearer, and now recognises Slater.. Her face blanches. For a moment she cannot speak. The wretched man looks up, and sees her thus in the gathering darkness. He breaks into a. loud wailing cry for help. Jessie turns from him with a shudder. Forgiveness is all very well. But there are some things a. woman cannot do. She walks away without another glance at him, and without another word of intercession. But she does not go for Jim. She will have neither part nor lot in the matter-, remembering the mandate, Vengeance is mine,' saitli the Lord." So upstairs and into the sick room she proceeds, and, sinking into a chair hy the bedside, declares to her step-mother that she is ready to begin her night's watch there and then. Mrs. Eden regards her curiously. She is very pale, and looks entirely worn out, and this although she has had a long sleep in the afternoon. "Jessie," asks her step-mother," aren't you well ?" "Oh, I'm all right, thank you," replies Jessie. Rather tired, that's all." "Yet you had a nice rest this afternoon." Mother," says Jessie, beginning to realise Dick's position with regret," perhaps you bad better go and see what Dick is doing in the orchard." "Dick! Why, is he doing aught wrong ? "No. But he may be led into doing what he will afterwards regret, if no one inter- feres." This is enough. Mrs. Eden hastens down- stairs and out into the orchard, eager for combat, and Jessie, left alone, reflects that at least Dick will be saved from the risk of unwittingly committing manslaughter. I CHAPTER XXI. I SUSAN'S LOVE-LETTER. IT is a dull, wet day in the latter part of January. Rain falls steadily, with a dull monotonous drip, drip, as if it would never leave off; clouds lower ominously overhead. In Edenfield farmhouse it is very quiet but less sad than usual, for the shadow of death, which has brooded over the person of the beloved husband and father so long is less- ened, and Mr. Eden has so far recovered that he can think and even talk intelligently and can also move one arm and leg. Although still obliged to remain in bed, he is content, cheerful and most grateful for every little attention. It has thus become more pleasant for his nurses, who are no longer obliged to sit up at night Avith him. Mrs. Eden sleeps on the old couch, and is within call, and that is quite sufficient. Jessie therefore can take more rest now. She sleeps a great deal, often in the daytime as well as at night, nature compelling her to recruit in this way, now she has a chance. Susan, who has never shared the night watciies, or indeed done very much nursing, finds the house extremely dull, and, web though it is, catches up a cloak and um- brella, and goes out. She has no definite plan in her head as to where she shall go, mdeed her mind is full 01: only one idea. She has had a letter from Slater, and wishes to be quite alone that she may read it over carefully. For, with the obstinacy of a small-minded, yet strong- willed person, she still retains her affection for the man who cut such a sorry figure when Dick, Jane and Jim punished him for his ill-conduct and the wrong lie had done her sister Jessie. Faithful and true Susan calls herself, and broods much over the martyrdom her hero has been made to go through. And now, this morning, she has received a letter from him, for the first time since the,happening of that incident, and its words of fulsome flattery, abject complain- ings, greed and thinly-veiled, distrust, fill her poor empty head with delight. "I will go into the granary. It will be dry and warm there," she says to herself, "and there will be no one to disturb me." She therefore mounts the stone step3, and, drawing a key from her pocket, unlocks the door. It is a secret of her own how she gained possession of that key. Her father lost it, one day, and not finding it again was obliged to have another made like the duplicate he had given Dick. In the granary, amongst the heaps of corn, and cattle-cake, the bags of seeds and all the etceteras kept there, Susan sits down on a three-legged stool, and, taking her letter from her pocket, begins to read it. Tli e Wakefield. "Jan. 28, 18— SWEETEST AND PRETTIEST SUSAN, "You are the Pole Star towards which my thoughts are always gravitating. I think of you by day and night. You are the balm which heals my troubled heart, after the deep pain of all that your wicked brother and his servants made me undergo. "Of course my Susan is not aware that they cruelly held her Archibald's head under the pump, whilst they tortured him by pumping cold water upon it. Just in pro- portion to my Susan's love for her Archibald will be the vengeance she will mete out to them for it." [Susan stops reading, a moment or two, to say to herself, "I've made Jane suffer, and I'll be even with Dick, yes, and Jim, too, before I've done." She continues reading.] After being knocked about and bruised, your Archibald was finally kicked out of the place by your brother. Alas, how rare is real love! If my Susan cared for me with all her heart she would never call Dick Eden brother after that." ["Nor will I," says Susan, biting her lip, "and I will have no regard to his feelings— none whatever. And I will never more respect his wishes." She goes on reading the letter.] But I will not dwell upon my sufferings —they are too deep-too poignant! Time may assuage the pain your Archibald is feeling. "And now I have something most impor- tant to tell you, Susan, I mean my sweetest and most beautiful Susan. "Can you pardon me for ever having preferred Jessie, with her wax-doll looks, to yourself, when I say now, with all my soul, that I love you and you alone. Dearest;, what I imagined was love for Jessie has all. gone. It is you—you." ["lie's underlined" you live times," 'comments Susan, with satis- faction.] "I adore no one but my Susan. Think of that! You have all your Archi- bald's love. "But now about marriage. I am a poor man. I may come into money, one day, but just at present my exchequer is low. lam without the means to marry. I have barely enough, to keep myself. How, then, ca:.1J keep a wife ? Facts are cruel things. IvLy Susan is loved by a poor man." [Susan pauses with a little pout. "J thought he was rich," she says to herself disconsolately, -I,"I (I Litei:i i-eids ()xi.] "However, I shall be rich, enough, one day, when my father dies. And. i won't promise, but it is just possible that I succeed to a title in time. How would my Susan like to be called Lady Susan Slater ?" [" Lady Susan Slater'. Oh, la!" says the girl to herself. She smirks and smiles at the brilliancy of the prospect. Lzi,dv StiF,,tti I think that sounds better. Yet I don't know.. I rather like the name Slater—'tis a dear name—and Lady Susan Slater is grand!" She returns to the letter.] | "But, as I said, just at present I am so dreadfully poor, I couldn't possibly marry unless my Susan could help me. If she has indeed £ 200 a year of her own, then we unless my Susan could help me. If she has indeed £ 200 a year of her own, then we might marry to-morrow." ["Oh, 4! Marry to-morrow? Oh, la! What would ma sq,yp" exclaims Susan, laughing outright. She picks up the letter, which falls to the floor during the laughter, and continues reading.] "But how am I to know she really has I this money ? I must have proof. My Susan spoke of allowing me to see X20 or £ 30 when last I saw her. That would be a very good plan. Will my Susan send me that amount in bank-notes, in a registered letter, or by P.O.O.? "Yes, I know she will. For she can trust her Archibald to return her the money when once he has seen it." [" I wonder if he will though?" says Susan to herself. "He's a mighty careless fellow. I might get at some of Jessie's money, or mother's—I know she has a lot somewhere —if only he would return it. I should only be borrowing it of them, just for him to see and it wouldn't do them, or their money any harm. But would he return it? Would he?" She knits her brows over the problem. He's a bit, slippery," she says. "He hasn't always kept his word with me yet. And as he's begun, so he'll go on—folks generally act in the same way." She continues reading.] "After all, what I ask is only a small thing for the future Lady Susan Slater to do." [This sentence is so good that Susan lingers over it, liking it better every minute. Finally the beauty of it conquers her last scruple. "It does sound lovely," says she admiringly to herself. "That is such a grand roll" (Did she mean "about Lady Susan Slater, and I shall be her Ladyship then. Well, I'll risk it. I'll get the money if I can. Mother has a lot about somewhere, and I know where Jessie keeps her purse. I'll do it." She returns to her letter.] "I shall therefore wait here until you send it. Then I will return it to you, with in- structions how you are to act with a view to our marriage. "With all" ["La! 'tis underlined six times thinks Susan,] "my love and kisses X X X X X X, I am ever my own sweetest, most beautiful Susan's adoring lover, ARCHIBALD." "Now why doesn't he put his surname?" comments Susan. "But I don't know that I like the conclusion less for that! Archibald alone seems to make him more my own. He couldn't write like that to anyone else ex- cept me." She kisses the document repeat- edly, and then, slips it into the bosom of her dress. When she leaves the granary, after brood- ing over plans for obtaining the money for fully half an hour, her head is full of one or two" simple, but. as Carlyle would say, uii- beautiful" schemes. (To be continued.)

I DAIRYING IN DENMARK. I A COUNTRY OF SMALL HERDS. Denmark is such an important source of butter- supply for the United Kingdom that this COUll, trv cannot be otherwise than interested in a short report on its dairying, which has just been prepared by Major Henry E. Alvord, the chief of the Dairy Department of the United States Department of Agriculture, a, gentleman whe visited nearly every European country of dairy importance a year or so ago. He points out that while Denmark is about one-third the size of New York State its dairy industry compares very favourably. Denmark has 1,067,139 cows and 676,301 other cattle, a total of 1,743,440, while New York State has 1,501,608 cows and 587,641 other cattle, a total of 2,089,249. The milk pro- duction of Denmark is 653,833,125 gallons, or 594 gallons per cow, while that of New York State is 772,799,352 gallons, or 515 gallons per cow. It is only to this extent that the two areas are comparable, but it is certainly interesting to note how well Denmark comes out when placed by the side of such an important dairying State as New York. Turning to Danish dairying, it is shown that its most striking feature is the great number of small farms and small dairy herds. There are 20,500 farms with only one cow, 27,700 with two cows, 26,800 with three to five cows, 2o.400 with six to nine cows, 19,800 with ten to fourteen cows, 29,800 with fifteen to twenty-nine cows, 5,800 with thirty to forty-nine cows, 1,440 with fifty to ninety-nine cows, and 6,762 with over 100 cows. Although milk is thus produced so largely on email farms, the dairying proper is almc'st en- tirely on a factory scale. In 1902 there were in Denmark 1,250 creameries, twenty cheese fac- tories, and 500 combined butter and cheese fac- tories. Very little butter is made on the small farms, but nearly all the large estates have creameries of their own. A very large propor- tion of the creameries of Denmark are, however, co-operative establishments. The total amount of butter made in 1902 amounted to 181,879,5001b., 261b. of milk being required for lib. of butter. The butter exports for the year ending October SO, 1902, were 193,061,9981b., and the imports 54,138.8111b., leaving a net exportation of 1 138,823,1871b. The imports were mainly Finnish and Russian (Siberian) butters, intercepted by ¡ enterprising merchants for re-export. So far as cheese is concerned the latest figures show that in one year 1,086,4001b. were imported and 61,6001b. I exported. The export of margarine from Den- mark is not permitted, although large quantities ) are produced under Government regulations for consumption within the country, and there is a considerable import. The Danes consume IS-S-lb. ■ of margarine per head, this rate having risen from I 5Jib. per capita within ten years. The people of j the country eat margarine in order to export the butter they make. r

I A PRAIRIE PEST. ) Headers of Frank Norris's "The Octopus" will remember his graphic description of a rabbit- j drive in one of the Western States. It appears j that in that region a battue of coyotes is still one I of the events of the year. In a- coyote" round- ) up" held recently at Denver, no fewer than 500 horsemen took part, although the bag did not | amount to- more than twenty victims. Special trains brought crowds of persons to the place as spectators, and the affair was made the occasion for a huge excursion. The circle of converging beaters was no less than thirty miles in diameter. '1 The huntsmen provided themselves with clubs, I as it would have been dangerous to use firearms I when this circular system was employed. One State alone spends no less than CS,boo a, year in the attempt to exterminate the coyote, bit, this pest of the prairies continues to thrive and j multiply. I

1 BANKERS AND THE PASSBOOK. I In these days everybody must go about with open eyes, and even bankers can't let the grass i grow under their feet. A recent case, says the "Law Journal," tried a few days ago before Mr. Justice Bruce and a jury, illustrates the duty cast on the banker in relation to his cus- tomer's pass-book. The defendants had allowed the plaintiffs' manager to make entries in their pass-book, and he had made it appear, by an I ingenious system of false entries, that large sums which he had pocketed had been paid into their account. The plaintiffs alleged that the con- duct of the bank had prevented them from dis- covering the defalcations, and the jury found that the plaintiffs had sustained loss by the bank's negligence, for which they gave chem substantial damages.

I nature notes, I WHERE OATS WILL GROW. Country clergymen are often naturalists and close observers. The Rev. W. H. Jenoure, rec- tor of Barwic-k, Yeovil, describes a novel sight which may be seen in his parish. A farmer nas been feeding his sheep on oats, and some of the grain fel-l on the back of one of the animals. It has taken root in the wool and sprouted, and the young shoots may be seen growing on its back. A CHIMPANZEE AT TABLE. The training of the young chimpanzee now in the Zoo has (we learn from "The County Gentle- man") been going on for six weeks. It is only two years old, and at first was quite averse to any teaching whatever. Now it is making rapid progress, sits on a chair, eats with a spoon, and seems quite anxious to learn and to please its teachers. SPRING SEA TROUTiNG. The Outer Islands of the Hebrides have been favoured throughout with the finest weather en- joyed for many years. Sport in the sea trout lochs of Loehboisdale has been in keeping with the fine, settled weather, and has not been so good for several seasons. Owing to the fine weather the brown trout lochs on both islands promise to do particularly well in April. LIGHT-GIVING INSECTS. The Cucujo is the fire-fly of the Tropics, and it is the most brilliant of the whole tribe of light-giving insects or animals. Thirty-eight of them yield one candle-power. Photographs have been printed by two-minute exposure of bromide plates to their illumination. People in Cuba confine them in paper lanterns for go- ing about the country at night or for indoor lighting. Sometimes they attach one of the in- sects to each foot for travelling in the dark to serve as a guide to the path. Ladies use them as ornaments for the dress and hair. A LUMINOUS CRAB. One of the marine curiosities fished seme time ago from the bottom of the Indian Ocean was a mammoth sea. crab which continually emitted a bright white light, similar to that seen in the spasmodic flashes of phosphorescent luminosity emitted by the common glow-worm. The crab v was captured in the day-time and placed in a large tank containing specimens of fish, nothing peculiar except its immense size being notice- able in the broad glare of the tropical sun. At night, however, when all was pitchy dark- ness, the crab lit up the tank so that the other creatures in it could be plainly seen. THE UNSPEAKABLE 8PARROW. The new York" Tribune" has the following o upon the English sparrow:—In various parts of the United States, east, west, north, and south, the feeling against the English sparrow as the deadly enemy of attractive and popular American native birds has been spreading ex- tensively. In this State it is a misdemeanour to feed these destructive pests. They are inde- fatigable little buccaneers, and they have thinned woefully the flocks of our most melodi- ous singers. Retributive justice has laid heavy hands upon them in the extreme rigours of the merciless winter and spring, and 11 they have perished by millions. 0 THE SIGHT OF SERPENTS. Reptiles' sight is generally good, and is pro- baDly their most acute sense, yet their vision is very limited. Crocodiles cannot distinguish a man at distance over ten times their length. Fish see for only short distances. I he vision of serpents is poor the boa-constric- tor, for example, can see no farther than one- third of its own length. Some snakes see no farther than one eighth of their length. Frogs are better endowed, and see twenty times their own length. The hearing of nearly ail reptile is even worse than their sight. Most of them are deaf, especially boa-constrictors. "Deaf as an adder" represents a careful observation of our ancestors. A TERRIBLE AIUSICAL-BOX. Willi spring coming on it is well to remember that the bird-catcher still sweeps the country- side of its songsters, and the collector penetrates into the farthest recesses to seize upon all that is rarest and most beautiful. A correspondent of "Bird Notes and News" writes "A short time ago, whole waiting at a small station, my atten- tion was called to a continuous noise which came from a large wooden box standing in the booking office. I inquired of a gruff-looking man, covered wiiH mud up to his knees, whether birds were inside. I suppose so,' he said, and went into the omce to book the box to be sent off by train. On further inquiry (not of this man) I learned that the box contained ten dozen linnets and other singirg birds. From this one little station alone about five hundred birds are sent off every week to Leeds, Sheffield, and other large towns. Not one in ten of these birds will live in cap- tivity, so the wastage is enormous. We do all we can to protect the birds here during the winter, but what is the use when they are caught wholesale in this manner?" AN ALLIGATOR ADVENTURE. The traditional method of catching a. bird is to put salt on its tail, and of defeating the attack of an alligator to poke the beast's eyes in with one's thumbs. Authentic lecords of one feat are almost as rare as those of the other. The slender collection is now enriched by an 'exciting story told by the "Northern Territory Times," a news- paper published at Palmerston, South Australia "Of late years," says this journal, "alligators seem to be acquiring a, bad habit of prowhng around the harbour foreshores of Port Darwin. At dusk on February 4 an aboriginal, rejoicing in the name of Mubbleburra, employed on a pearling lugger, divested himself of his scanty attire with the intention of having a dip. He was swimming, and was about midway between 'I' the shore and the boat, when a huge alligator suddenly rose alongside him. The reptile struck Mubbleburra on the side of the head with one of its forepaws, one of the claws penetrating the man's face and inflicting a severe injury. In the next instant it seized its victim in its jaws, and inflicted some terrible wounds in the man's shoulder and back. A more horrible and appar- ently hopeless position cannot well be conceived. Any white man similarly circumstanced would probably have yielded up the ghost forthwith. But Mubbleburra comes from a district whose rivers teem with these reptiles. Probably some old tribal stories of hairbreadth escapes from similar 'tight corners flashed through his mind. In any case, with great coolness and courage, he wriggled himself around and managed to insert his thumbs in the eye-sockets of the alligator witii such force and effect that the brute let go its hold and beat a temporary retreat. iNI-tibble- htirra, torn and bleeding as he was, immethately dived to the bottom and struck out in the direc- tion of the boat. Coming up occasionally for breath, he appears to have dodged the alugator, and.succeeded in scrambling into the dinghy. As he did so, the brute, which'had been following him, made a rush, and bit through or broke the painter of the boat-a new 13,in. rope within six inches of the stem. Mubbleburra broke a limb from one of the mangrove trees and paddled I himself ashore. Questioned concerning Ins ad- venture later, Mubbleburra said. My word, sup- pose that one young strong pfeller alligator, me die quick; that one old pfeller-r-o more tco J much strong quick pxeller. A e ierirn tiiat Mub- bleburra is" in a fair way towards complete re- I covery after his unique, or, at. the least, sensa- tional experience but until he is planted away in some tree in his final bark envelope, he will be I able to show scars on his person attesting the I truth of his tale. We believe the alligator m I question had been seen occasionally in the neigh- bourhood-for some weeks previously, and we are informed that on the morning following Mubble- burra's adventure-one of the crew had a good siont of the same brute, who leisurely circled around, the dinghy he was in, apparently meditat- ing on the feasibility .of j'upsettmg the tray craft and grabbing-its occupant. The brute is said to have approached quite close to the boat, and, ¡ had the man possessed a rifle, a good chance was afforded of civing the dangerous r entile its quietus." j

HOME HINTS. I One of the simplest and most satisfactory tonics for improving the eyelashes is cold tea. A Cure for Indigestion.—A sure and simple remedy is to eat a small piece of Turkey I'll n- barb after each meal. Indigestible things should be avoided, and very little liquid taken with meals. Wrinkles under the Eyes.—Massage well across the lines every night with lanoline or olive oil, and then apply a lotion composed of one pint of white wine (a cheap quality), four parts of powdered alum, and fifty parts of rose- water—ail well mixed. Another excellent lotion is composed of a pint of rose water mixed with seven or eight drops of simple tincture of benzoin. Liniment for Rheumatism.—Twopenny-worth of turpentine and twopenny-worth of green elder oil. Mix well together and rub into the affected- parts. Don't use too much soap on the face. Three times a week is generally sufficient. Use warm water, then rinse with cold water after. The warm water cleanses; cold water closes the pores again and prevents the skin from chap- ping or getting rough. Baked Rhubarb Pudding.—Butter a pie-dish, and cover the bottom of it with a layer of bread- crumbs. Then place a layer of rhubarb cut into pieces an inch long, and scatter a teaspoonful of moist sugar over it. Fill the dish with alternate layers of breadcrumbs and rhubarb. Put half a dozen bits of butter on the top, and bake in a moderate oven for one hour. Ginger Bread.—One pound flour, half-pound golden syrup, quarter-pound sugar, half-ounce ginger, two ounces lard, a pinch of salt. Mix all the dry things together, then add the syrup (made warm), then put in half a. pint of warm milk; dissolve one teaspoonful of carbonate of soda, then mix with the other ingredients, and bake in a flat tin, well greased. Time-thrce- j quarters or an hour. A Delicious Pudding.—One tablespoonful of flour, four ounces of candied peel, three ounces beef suet, chopped finely, four ounces bread- crumbs, two ounces of apricot ja13, one dessert- j spoonful of milk, three eggs, and flavour with a teaspoonful of brandy. Beat the eggs with the milk, and mix well with the other ingredients. Pour into a buttered mould, and steam for three hours. Recipe for Dough Nuts.—Three-quarters cup of sugar, half-cup of milk, one egg, quarter of a nutmeg, one tablespoonful melted butter, half teaspoonful cinnamon, half-teaspoonful salt. Make the dough a little stifier" than biscuit dough, roll out about a quarter inch thick, and cut with cutter., make hole in the centre, fry in boiling lard till nicely browned. To be eaten with golden syrup. L, Cheap Victoria Sandwich.—Mix together two eggs, three tablespoonfuls of white sugar, three zD-" I c tablespoonfuls of Hour, and two teaspoonfuls of baking-powder. Add a piece of butter the size of a walnut, previously melted, mix well to- gether, and bake in a well-buttered round tin for twenty minutes. Girdle Cakes.—One pound of flour, quarter- pound of butter, one teaspoonful of baking-pow- der, and enough thin cream or milk to mate it into a stiff paste. Rub the butter well into the flour with a pinch of salt, and add the baking- powder, then mix and just roll out smooth and cut the c-akes with a cutter either large or small, and bake them at once, turning them occasion- al^ to prevent them burning. Bake on a thick baking sheet over a clear fire from five to ten minutes an ordinary frying-pan will do. Half this quantity will make a good manv cakes. White Cakes.—Beat a little powdered sugar into half-pound flour, one ounce butter, one ecg, a^ few caraways, and wet with milk and water. Roll them and cut with a glass or top of canister. Bake fifteen minutes. To Wash Prints.—Put a little bran into luke- warm water. Wash the articles quickly in this, rinse in cold water, and hang them to dry in a room without any fire or sun. Do not wash them with soap or soda. Iron on the wrong side with a cool iron. To Remove Finger Marks From a Light Grey Coat.—There is nothing better than benzine for cleaning marks from light or delicate goods, and this should be applied with the soiled article laid over an absorbent pad, and away from any fire or light. Dish-covers may be kept beautifully bright as follows Remove all grease by using warm water and soda, dry off with a soft cloth, and apply with a flannel a little ordinary metal polish, then polish off with fine whiting. This makes the covers shine like silver. If a bath hag got very dirty and shabby, sand- z, paper it well, then give two coatings of ordinary white paint, letting the first dry thoroughly be- fore the second is applied. When the second is dry give a final coating of bath enamel. The bath will be like new. To Use up Starch.—After using a bowl of starch do not throw away what is left. Place on one side, and when the starch has settled pour off the clear water, and then place the basin in the oven for five minutes. The starch will be found in hard cakes, and can be put away ready for use another time. To Restore the Colour of Brown Hair.Tah- ten parts of walnut juice, obtained from the nut while green, and ninety parts of spirits of wine. Before using, wash the hair with a solution of carbonate of potash. The hair will be coloured dark brown or black, according to the strength of the solution. T Clean Oil Paintings.—Clean thoroughly with Sunlight soap and warns water or Hudson's soap powder. Rinse off with clean cold water. Let the painting get thoroughly dry and give a coat of good white strained size. When dry, a coat of good white copal varnish. Keep the painting from dust until dry. Useful Hint for Men's Clothi12t;It is a very goon and sensible plan to line the back of men's waistcoats with soft Saxony flannel, instead of the usual Italian cloth In this way many colds and chills are avoided, as the backs of the veuts are made as warm as the fronts, and help to pro- tect the organs in the back of the body. Sweet Apple Sauce.—One large apple, or two small ones, one clove, one ounce of sugar, half- pint of cold water, and one ounce of butter. Peel and core the apples, slice them, up into bits, put into a pan with the water and clove, simmer half iL-n hour, and beat to a pulp with a. wooden spoon, tdd the sugar and butter, pour round the puct- ding or serve in a tureen. Fillet of Beef, French Fashion.—Here :5 the French way of cooking a fillet of beet: Cut .rom a sirloin of beef a nicely-shaped and re- move all fibrous skin without disfiguring meat. Carve it into neat slices two inches taict and three long, and lard it equally m rows all over, then out it into marinade or pickle, pcur over tne slices a little olive oil, and season with peoper and salt; add to it sliced onions and a bav leaf. After it has laid six hours stick the slices upon wire formed to the shape of shoe, and turn it often before a brisk fire, basting with'a little butter. Serve with Hacnee sauce. Put into a stewnan a spoonful of washed escha- lots, an equal quantity of mushrooms a mile minced parsley, and pour over it two ladlefuls of Espa^nole, as much bouillion, and two table- spoonfuls of wine vinegar, with a little pepper, boil and skim, and, just before serving, add tho fillets of two blanched anchovies. Pass through a sieve, and vanner it well. Then throw in a tablespoonful of minced capers. To vanner is to work a, sauce well with a suoon by lilting it up and letting it fall.

WOMAK'S WORLD. VARIED FASHION. The modes were never (asys a writer in the -'Rural World") in ail the annals of fashion as accom- modating as they now are, for there is such infinite variety in the freshest toilettes and newest hats that every woman must find something which will suit her figure, taste, and purse. There are, indeed, no hard-and-fast rules to restrict all efforts at originality, but each and ail may dress as they like, while, of course, avoid- ing any display of any tendency towards exaggera- tion. Our skirts may vary in length and style to suit the requirements of the wearer, and thus the Glender woman may appear successfully gowned in a skirt of the early Victorian era, not too long, and standing well out from the feet, its roundness of outline emphasised by circular trimmings in the form of tucks or bands which run round the lower part from the knee downwards. This is not, how- ever, a mode suited to the figure of a stout woman, whose outline, it too clearly defines, and she should select instead the full flowing skirt which falls in gathers from the waist and flows softly round the feet in graceful folds, adding height and distinction to the wearer. This, of course, is a mode which is likewise becoming to the tall, slim woman, who can, indeed, adopt almost any style, although exactly the reverse is the ease with those whom Nature has rather liberally endowed with flesh. To WASH EKOIEI;XIY. Embroidered linens should be washed in an earthenware bowl cr an enamelled one, quite per- fect and free from chips. Pre- pare some suds from good soap or washing powder perfectly free from soda. Look over each article to be washed before beginning, and if there are any spots of dirt wash them before wetting the entire piece. Then plunge the fabric into the warm suds and keep moving it up and down until clean. It must be kept moving, not allowed to soak nor be roughly handled or rubbed, and one piece only should be wetted at once. Hinse by plunging it up and down in several tepid waters or until the water remains perfectly clear. Press out some of the "ater between the palms of the hands, but do not wring it: then lay the linen fiat between two soft dry cloths and press out as much of the water as possible, changing the cloths for dry 'ones as they become saturated. Then pull the pieces as straight as possible by the thread each way of the material, and carefully bring the pattern of the embroidery in place shake it out until there is no danger of the water running in it, then hang ib in the shade to dry. Let it hang until it 18 quite dry. the silk of the embroidery must be perfectly dry lay a soft sheet folded six or eight times double on the table, place the linen in it right side down, damp a part of it, if it is a large piece, but if not large the whole, with a soft sponge squeezed out, not very dry, of clean cold water; pass very lightly over the em- broidery the linen will absorb the moisture, but the silk must not be wet, and then iron it very quickly with a hot iron, keeping the iron quite straight with the thread of the linen; do not press with a cool iron or lay a damp cloth over the em- broidery. » FIEE SCREENS. What shall we do with our fireplaces ?" will soon become a household question, and for simple inexpensive treatment crinkled paper comes to our aid. An extremely pretty fireplace screen is made upon a cardboard foundation, cut as a circle, and about sixteen inches across, while any three shades of paper can be employed, the'design beirg moss-green, rubv, and she!! pink. A few inches in from tho edge of the cardboard gather or box-pleat on a Pin. frill of moss-green paper, which must only overlap the card an inch or two. Across the base gather or pleat on another frill of the green. The centre is formed of two shell-shaped pieces of crinkled paper, in ruby and pale pink. Place the pink piece over the ruby, and gather the two up a few inches from lower edge, and secure to the card j i.st above the frill at base. Catch the two papers on to the card near the top on either side, where they spread out quite wide, nearly covering the green frill. Fold either side in towards the centre, narrow at the top and wide at base, somewhat in shell shape, and secure with a stitch here and there. In the centre it is better to place some growing plant (a fern by choice), as they are more generally in harmony with the other colours in thr- roc-m. ? HELP MOTHER. Every girl, if she is not tho- roughly selfish, is anxious to lift some of the burden of household management from her mother's shoulders on to her own but, unfortunately, many girls want to be asked to do things, instead of being constantly on the look-out for little duties which they are capable of doing. If you would be of any real use in the home. you must be quick to notice what is wanted—the room that needs dust- ing, the flowers that need re-arranging, the curtain which has lost a ring, and is therefore drooping; and then you must not only be willing to do what is needed, but be willing to do it pleasantly, without making people feel that you are being martyred. It is almost useless to take up any household duties unless you do them regularly. If you do a thing one day and not the next you cau never be de- pended on, and if someone else has to be constantly reminding you of and supervising your work it probably gives that person more konble than doing it herself would cause. Have a definite dav and definite time for all you do. The flower vases will need attention every other day, the silver must be cleaned once a week, and there should be one day kept for mending and putting away household linens. Begin, too, directly after breakfast and keep on steadily until the work is done. If you begin by sitting down "just for a minute" with a book, or think yon will just arrange the trimming on your new hat you know where vou are. A girl who has brothers may spare her mother all those tiresome little jobs which boys are always requesting to have done for them, if she will do them kindly; but a boy will net come and ask his sister to repair frayed-out buttonholes and to make him paste for his photograph album if she snaps and says he is always bothering." It is not easy work, but it is quite possible for the daughter at home to make sunshine. TAXLOTI-MADE COSTUMES. As far as tailor-made modes generally are concerned, there seems to be (observes "Barbara" in the "Snndny Times") a strong inclination towards styles that are simpler in out- line and less elaborate in the way of trimming, while the tendency is distinctly in favour of the return of the tight-fitting bodice. The smartest of the bolero coats grow by degrees neater and closer in effect, many of them being absolutely tight-fitting. while the newest double-breasted coats, in a three-quarter length for the late spring and early summer, are made in various fine soft cloths and cut so that they fit quite closelv to the figure, both back and front. Some of these are particularly smart in pale shades of grey and in biscuit colour, fastened with large flat buttons covered with thick silk cord to" mat,eh the shade of the cloth. Other cloth coats, again, are cut on the now fkailiar lines of the Japanese kimono and fasten over slightly on one side without, any bud of collar or neck-band. Most of the new coats, however, are made with fairly deep shoulder-capes, some of them being out in points over the shoulders and at the back and having these points finished with tassels of silk cord. Perhaps because the general tendency of the day is toward? economy, or, rather, towards an attempt to economise, some of the tailors are making their gowns with two bodices, one quite a simple little coat for wearing over blouses, and the other a far more elaborate affltir for afternoon wear, trimmed with appliqné designs in silk or velvet and dainty embroideries, and very finished with a full Cavaher cravat and rubles of real lacs.

All men have their troubles. Many a mm who is seemingly happy is wearing a. shirt made by his wife. y Mr. Boresleigh "So your father thinks that I have the cut of an athlete about rae. Did ha say why I struck him in that light? The Lady "He said that- wnenever you came here vou save an exhibition of such marvellous staying power." An Irishman says it jg follv to fight with a coloured man, because if the latter gets a bl^*vy eve it does not show.