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[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] MALMORA: A STORY OF THE ISLE OF MAN. BY AUGUSTA SQUIRES, Author of "Saved by Death," "An Eviction and its Consequences &c. &c. CHAPTER XXV. DRIVEN FORTH. 'WlTH every pulse beating, every nerve "tense, throbbing with emotion, Elfin sought Sfche music room, sat down to the organ, and an to play, to improvise. The music was fTOild, melancholy, sad. Ever and anon it penetrated to the chamber where Malmora 'was listening with suspended breath to the story that Linda related. And still the music went on, fitful, stormy, pathetic; ■permeated with a depth of tragic passion, as the cadence slowing softly drew to its close. Elfin received a summons to Malmora's presence. She pressed her fingers once more upon the keys. One Long note, like the last despairing cry of a lost soul, pierced the air—then a blank silence. She put down the lid with a lingering touch, as though her hands were loth to leave it. She crossed the floor slowly, paused when she reached the door and looked around the room, bidding it a mute farewell. Then she went forth to receive her sen- tence. Elfin stood clad in a white robe, with bent head and pathetic face, before the implac- able woman who sat in the carved oak chair in rigid state. "So you have acted a false part towards me ever since you first came to Balla," said Malmora, with stern anger. The girl did not speak. She dared not look up and encounter the glance which she felt was resting upon her. "You have professed ignorance of your parentage. You knew you were the grand- child of-thai woman." Mahnora half rose, and then sat down again, grasping the carved arms of the chair on either side. "And you, whom I have treated as an equal, are the daughter of an ex-convict! Her tone expressed infinite scorn and Contempt. "Knowing this, you have accepted my favours.' The girl raised her head slightly. I- Do not speak cried Malmora, in a voice from which she could not keep a ringing note of fierceness. You would lie to me in speech, as you have lied to me by your silence through all these years." She stepped down from her seat, which was placed on a dais near the window. Her tall form seemed to grow taller, as she stood with head erect, the dark 'robe falling in straight lines from the spray of polished Jet which glittered on her shoulder to the tiger-skin rug spread beneath her feet. "When you came here, an apparently friendless child, some pity stirred within me. Had I known who you were, I would have driven you forth to seek again the place from whence you came, or to perish of cold and hunger." Elfin's clasped hands tightened over her beating heart. Malmora observed the gesture with a sense of irritation. She had coni t-iiaiided Elfin to J Skeep silence; but now it was an offence to her that the denounced did not attempt to justify herself. As she looked upon the defenceless girl standing in an attitude of submissive but dignified sorrow, there came to her mind the words As a sheep 'before her shearers is dumb, so He opened not His mouth." A momentary uneasiness possessd her, a faint misgiving as to the justice of the pitiless sentence she was about to put into execution. What if she, too, like the Scribes and Pharisees of old, were to pass judgment upon the innocent ? She walked a few paces and came back again. Why did you deceive me ?" I did not know." The words were low and faint. "Not know that those wretched people had a claim upon you ? Elfin shook her head. "I do not believe you! You come of a degraded race. Their blood is in your Veins their evil in your heart!" Malmora was lashing herself to anger again. I did not know that I had a "—a slight shiver passed through Elfin s frame— "father"—the word came with a gasp- until to-day." It is not to be expected that you will confess to the deception which you have practised for so long. So consummate an actress will sustain her role of injured inno- cence to the last." Elfin's mental attitude of numbed passivity -changed to that of indignant protest against the injustice under which she suffered. She raised her head and looked unflinch- ingly into the face of her accuser. "I have told you the truth." Her voice, with its soft silvery tone, rang ,out clear. Then a sudden passion assailed "her; her cheeks gained colour, her eyes light; her form seemed to expand, and put on an air of self-contained dignity. "You say you took me from the streets who asked you to do so ? Not I. One of jyour lowest menials was the first to give me {food and shelter, and your blood-hound accorded me protection. Sir Magnus pleaded May cause, and you gave a reluctant consent lor me to stay. It was not until you dis- covered my talent for music that you deigned to notice me, then it was the talent which interested you, not myself. You have devoted your time to—my talent; you have expended your wealth on the cultivation of— my talent; but of myself,a feeling, suffering, human being, you have thought little. I Was no more to you than a skilfully built instrument which could be played upon." This apparently simple and unreflective child, had niercecl to the secret chamber of Malmora's heart, and held up to her view the image of that self which she had never dared to look upon. Elfin continued: "You speak of benefits conferred. Did you do all this with the object of caripg for a homeless and neglected child? No. You simply sought the gratifica- tion of your own desires." This was another sharp-edged truth that stabbed. Still she went on; but now her voice changed to a sad low key her eyes grew dewy soft, and her mouth became tremu- lous. You treated me as though I had only rnind and intellect. You forgot that I had heart. There were times when I would gladly have relinquished all which I possess- ed, even my great gift-which is my life- if, one little token of affection from you, J/01,1 W1theld it. I have never known a Wvf »?♦ Jove' and you had buried your heart with yOUr child Her voice broke into a sob. Malmora turned her head aside. A latent S *red ,Wl,fchin her; but Elfin's next words reversed the current of her feel- ings. Not until I heard Sir Magnus sDeak of Molly Malone in Glen Helen, d?d I know that she and old Mother Jones, my grandmother were one and the same." Malmora turned upon the girl with sudden fury. How dare you mention that hated name in my presence ? You are a descendant of the accursed mother, and accursed son. Go 'to your own folk!" Elfin fell upon her knees and held up sup- plicating hands. "I would sooner throw myself from the top of Brada Head into the sea! she cried, passionately. "Let me be your servant, your slave, but do not deliver me over to those cruel people "Don't look at me like that!" said Mal. mora, sharply. Once, when Frida was ill, suffering, nigh unto death, there was a look on her face like the one that is on yours now." "May it not be Frida's spirit pleading through me for your compassion ? ,Compassion I Had your father compas- sion, when he stabbed my husband in the dark, the coward ? Compassion! Had she, that fiend, who always hated me, I know not why, when she took the life of my inno- cent child?" But they cannot be my relatives it is impossible, unnatural! There must be some terrible mistake." "There is no mistake," said Malmora. coldly, looking down into the quivering up- turned face. You have that woman's eyes. The expression is different, but the colour is the same. Oh, why did not the resemblance strike me before ? I may be like her in outward form, but I am not in mind, not in spirit, not in heart. Oh forget that I belong to them. Take me back again." "Forget! I qan never forget—nor for- give. Elfin uttered a despairing cry and fell for- ward. She lay with long white arms exten- ded her dark hair swept the mat at Malmora's feet. I can never forgive," she repeated, stand- ng over the prostrate girl. You say I have never loved you, that is true. But now I hate you. Hate you so intensely that the sight of you is loathsome to me." Elfin's fingers worked convulsively. Leave me, now, instantly and may I never look upon your face again." The suppliant raised herself slowly, and tossed aside the ruffled locks with a weak, nerveless hand. She walked half-way across the room, hesitated, threw a long look back over her shoulder, but the sphynx-like face maintained its calm, and herpleading glance met the steely glitter of eyes that cursed. With faltering steps, and hands held out gropingly, like one who cannot see the way he is going, she passed with drooping head, through the open doorway, and out of sight. CHAPTER XXVI. I LOST AT SEA. I ELFIN sat in a small white boat—the Balla Mount—which rode at anchor on the heav- ing waves. She had entered the little skiff when it lay high on the beach, and burying her face in her hands, had remained un- conscious that the inflowing tide had floated the boat, and that a wide space of water stretched between her and the shore. She was driven from beneath the roof which had afforded her friendly shelter for many years. Whither should she flee? She dare not stay on the island, those people—her kinsfolk—would claim her. She would go to England but how was she to get there without funds ? All the money she possessed had been in the purse which she had thrown at "that man's" feet. What should she do ? To whom could she apply ? Clare had gone to Ireland to pay a long deferred visit to a distant relative, and Herr Shielmann had returned to his native land. At length she thought of Joalf, he might help her. One night, some time ago, she had stolen into the stable, and had dis- covered the old man seated on a truss of straw; the lantern, which was placed upon the floor, described a faint circle of light. He was thrusting his right hand up and down the leg of a blue worsted stocking, and jingling some coins which it contained, as though their metallic ring made sweet music in his ears. Elfin determined to wait until darkness fell, then she would go to Joalf, perhaps he might be induced to lend her a small portion of his hoarded wealth. And Orry, would he think of her when she was gone ? Would he grow pitiful and for- give? forgive her for being "that man's" child ? She raised her head wearily and looked around. A broad expanse of sea still flowed between her and the strand. But the tide had reached high water mark and turned. There was a heavy swell, and a strong undercurrent setting seaward. A cloaked figure issued from a cave beneath the cliffs, crossed the narrow strip of shingle, and entered the sea. The surf flowed around her feet, crept to her knees, encircled her waist; still she advanced slowly, deliberately. She stood in the water up to her chin near the prow of the boat. She raised her hand, it clasped a long, glittering knife. Elfin could not move she gazed in fascinated terror at the shining blade suspended above her head; for a moment it wavered, then darted aside, and descended upon the rope which at the upper end was attached to the gunwale, and at Lhe lower to the shank of a heavy anchor em- bedded in the sand. Molly sawed at the slender cable until it parted in two. The boat gave a plunge, mounted the next steep rushing breaker, then rode slowly out to sea. Having accomplished her work, she waded to the shore, and stood in her dripping gar- ments and dishevelled hair streaming in the wind, watching the little vessel recede further and further from the land. At length it was lost to sight. She climbed to the top of the cliff, shaded her eyes with her hand, and scanned the stormy sea. The white boat rode over the dark waters, and a white-robed form stood up in it, out- lined against a deep purple cloud which had assumed the likeness of a cross. A sunbeam, raying downwards from a rift in the vapourous mass above, illumined the distant figure; it became transformed, etherialised, a spirit of light. The sunlight faded, the clouds rolled together, and all was dark. y? "X* -a. The gong sounded in the hall. At the same minute the footman appeared at the drawing-room door. If you please, Miss Elfin is out." He waited, as though expecting to receive a command for some one to be despatched immediately in search of the absentee. But Malmora turned to her companion, and said quietly Linda, are you ready ? And she led the way to the dining- room. The dinner proceeded in an unbroken silence. Malmora's eyes wandered again and again to the vacant chair which stood on her [right hand. The atmosphere grew oppressive, the light faded; suddenly the room was filled with blue flame; the thunder crashed overhead and shook the house to its foundations the rain lashed the window panes, and the wind sobbed and moaned. The women looked into each other's scared faces, and from Malmora's lips involuntarily dropped the question "Where is she ?" And her heart cried, "Where? Where?" Was she out in the pitiless storm, a wan- derer, seeking shelter and finding none ? Might she not perish of cold and hunger ? Malmora pushed her plate away she felt that food would choke her. Later in the evening she sought her own room, drew aside the curtain, and pressed her face against the window pane. The darkness without was as impenetrable as a wall. The storm still raged. As she stood facing the murky gloom, listening to the roll of the thunder, there came to her mind Cordelia's passionately pathetic exclama- tion „T, Mine enemy's dog, l nough he had bit me, should have stood that night Against my fire The velvet folds escaped from her relaxed fingers, and fell together, shutting out the night. Emilie appeared at the door with a look of concern, and exclaimed in a distressed tone: Madame, Mademoiselle Elfin not come home. Shall some one go and look for her ? There was silence for the space of half a minute, then Malmora said slowly: "No. It is late. You can go to bed." She remained in the same attitude for some time after the girl had left. At length she approached the dressing-table, raised one of the tall lighted lamps, paused irreso- lutely, then put it down again, and paced the chamber with lagging steps. The reverber- I ation of a thunder peal shook the walls and trembled along the floor. She again lifted the lamp, walked forward slowly, then half turned, as though arrested by some detain- ing thought; she wavered for a moment, made a slight impatient movement, and threw open the door. She passed along the corridor and ascended a steep winding stair which led to the top of a high tower. Here she stopped to take breath, then advanced I and put the lamp on a small centre table. Its rays illumined the circular chamber with its walls and roof of glass. Was the light, which so placed could be seen from afar, intended to act as a beacon to one who might have lost her way in the storm ? There was another inmate of Balla, Mount who did not sleep that night. Linda dismissed her maid, and threw back the casement, regardless of the driving rain, and strained her eyes through the dark to a distant point, where a momentary gleam of moonlight showed pale on the white crested breakers of the troubled sea. She closed the window with a shiver, threw herself on the couch, and buried her head in the cushions. When Elfin was cast adrift on the sea, Linda was amusing herself in the Camera Obscura, looking upon the reflection of sur- rounding scenes presented in succession to her view. She had observed Elfin cross the beach and enter the skiff, near which the tide was slowly creeping, and after a consid- erable interval had descried the tall form of Molly Malone wading through the surf. She had caught a glimpse of the long- knife in the old woman's uplifted hand she had seen her sever the rope, and watched the boat drift over the cloud-shadowed waters until it faded from sight. Linda's first feeling was one of satisfaction that so dangerous a rival had been removed from her path. She reasoned that no great harm could befall her, for the boat would eventually be picked up by some pass- ing vessel or fishing-smack, and Elfin, fear- ing to return to the Island, would undoubt- edly make her way to some other country. But when the storm came on, as the night advanced, Linda was assailed by an un- speakable dread which struck a chill to her heart. The Balla Mount, being lightly built, and only intended for use on smooth waters, could not live in a surging sea. Elfin would perish, and Linda knew that she would for ever have the uneasy consciousness that her I fatal silence had prevented any attempt being made to go to the young girl's rescue. (To be continued.)

TOWN'S RAID ON GAMBLERS. l The latest American city to be struck by the anti-gambling crusade is Memphis, Tenn. The movement has been backed by a "committee of fifty" prominent citizens, who, acting with characteristic Southern vigour and thorough- ness, hav$raided every gambling den in town, seized the roulette tables, faro boxes, and other gambling devices, and dumped them into the Mississippi River. Public feeling against gam- blers has been aroused by the murder of two deputy sheriffs engaged in a raid upon a gam- bling "joint," and the prospects are good that these outrages and the disclosures of police connivance together will result in such a "house-cleaning" as Memphis has not had in many a year.

A YEAR OF DROUGHT. I The year of greatest deficiency of rain in re- cent times within the British Islands was 1887. There was a deficiency of 38 per cent. in Scot- land and 37 per cent. in England in that year; 1887 was the first of three consecutive years in which the rainfall was deficient by as much as 21 per cent. in Scotland and 16 per cent. in England. On the other hand, the great rainfall of 1903 came directly after the very moderate rainfall of 1902, which had a deficiency of rain- fall to the extent of 17 per cent. both in England and Scotland, while 1904, coming di- rectly after the great rainfall of last year, is, up to date, very little different from the aver- age in any part of the United Kingdom.

KUROPATKIN AS A MARKSMAN. I General Kuropatkin, when visiting Sevasto- pol as Minister for War, was invited by the Commandant to contest at a shooting saloon there. Each was to fire ten shots with a re- volver at fifteen paces, the target being a piece of white cardboard about the size of a small cigarette-case. The general put all his ten shots into the target, and when a similar target was put up ten paces further off he repeated the performance with a rifle.

DANGERS OF ICEBERGS. I People unfamiliar with icebergs or their lore, says a writer in the "Windsor Magazine," may doubt that the sea monsters are as large or de- structive as this narrative indicates; but no one who has traversed the northern seas, or seen a crippled steamer making into port with gaping bows telling of her combat, will ques- I tion for a moment the most improbable story of battle with these rovers. The really amazing feature of .the bergs is that they show so little of their bulk—one-eighth above water. Hence, even when a colossal one is seen, the mind fails to grasp the significance of what it represents— the vast bulk concealed below the ocean level. It is only when a berg overturns that an idea of its immensity is obtained. This occurrence usually results through one berg fouling with another, the nicely adjusted balance being dis- turbed and the colossus floundering forward and throwing off fragments with noises like the discharge of a park of artillery, the movement communicating itself in turn to the bergs in the vicinity, until they are turning turtle liKe a school of whales at play. Such a scene is not uncommon along the Labrador coast in summer, where hundreds of bergs are to be sighted every day; and the mailboat gives them a wide berth as she makes her risky runs up and down the rugged seaboard. An American college professor two years ago counted 176 one day from a hilltop at Cape Charles. These figures cease to excite surprise when it is remembered that the bergs are the product of the Greenland glaciers and are formed by the thousand itf the far northern fiords. As the glaciers sweep into the sea they "calve" or throw off mighty blocks, and these are what we know as icebergs.

Albert Fennell, the four-year-old son of a fireman on the Midland Railway, living ir Sheffield, was killed by falling from the Sheffie] to Morecambe express, on Sunday, near Wen nington Junction. He was going with hi parents on a holiday trip to Morecambe, am tho carriage door accidentlly opened. The boy't skull was fractured and his leg broken in two places.

CROSS-CHANNEL SWIM. ABORTIVE ATTEMPTS.—WATER TOO COLD. All the three attempts by nominees of news- papers to swim the Channel on Saturday and Sunday proved unsuccessful, only Holbein accomplishing any considerable die tan ce. After an effort extending over 10 hours and 20 minutes, Holbein found himself unable, owing to illness brought about by the coldness of the water, to complete his attempt to swim from Dover to Calais, which was started on Saturday afternoon. Those who have witnessed Holbein's five cross-Channel attempts are of opinion that his powers were never more conspicuous than on this occasion. For the last two hours the swimmer was fighting against continuous sickness and other internal troubles set up by the coldness of the water, which during the night registered only 60deg. The water was 3deg. lower than on Holbein's previous swims, and 5deg. below the temperature of the sea when Captain Webb swam the Channel. The advent of the French swimmer Burgesse, of the Paris Swimming Club, was quite unexpected. He entered the sea immediately after Holbein, having been rowed ashore from the French tug Calaisin. There were'many inquiries as to his identity and inten- tions, and these were answered by M. Georges Moebs, president of the Paris Swimming Associa- tion, who was in Holbein's tug. Holbein was the first to make a start of the three swimmers who had been waiting at Dover for the conditions to become favourable. His tug, the Scotia, Captain Anning, left the Prince of Wales Pier, shortly after 3 o'clock for a point 2t miles westward, where the swim was to be started, the opinion of the pilot Foster being that this would give the swimmer the best position on the prevailing tides. The party in the tug included Mrs. Holbein, Captain Groves, Trinity pilot, and several French and English sportsmen. Holbein, whose mask and goggles were fixed on with collodion, was rowed ashore and entered the sea at 4.32, amid cheers. The sea temperature taken at this time was 62deg., the air temperature being the same. The swim afforded a surprise from the start. Instead of usiag the back stroke, from the start. Instead of usiag the back stroke, as before, Hol'bein went off with a. powerful side stroke, making 25 to 30 strokes to the minute. This is speedier than his back stroke, and keeps the head clearer of the water. There was a fresh easterly breeze and a nasty loppy sea in the Channel, which was a source of discomfort to the swimmer from the start. The progress made by Holbein was most satisfactory, the first hour seeing him over a mile out from the starting- point, while he had another mile to his credit ¡' in the swim towards France, at the end of the 6econd hour, with only half a mile eastward drift. From the beginning of the third hour Mr. Faith accompanied the swimmer, who now took his first nourishment, consisting of a steak sandwich and cocoa. At the end of the third hour he was 3t miles from the shore and about a mile eastward of the starting-point. The Admiralty steamer Industry then passed quite close, the crew lining the side and cheering. At a quarter to 8 a fine auxiliary steam yacht, La Belle Sauvage, arrived on the scene and followed the swim for some distance. Holbein was making light of his great task and getting through the sea in splendid style. After less than an hour on the back he reverted to the side stroke, swimming 23 to the minute with machine-like precision. At 8 o'clock he had some more nourishment. Swimmers con- stantly succeeded each other in accompanying him for a time, Mr. Hiller and Mr. Record fol- lowing Mr. Faith. By the end of the fourth hour Holbein had swum four miles and a half on his course to France, but the eartward drift had been considerable. The bearings taken at this time showed the South Foreland high light N. quarter W., South Goodwin lightship N.E., Folkestone W. three-quarter N. The Frenchman Burgesse, was still level with Hol- bein at five minutes to 9 after a fine swim of nearly 41 hours. He had no protection to his eyes, and suffered a great deal of discomfort. He was taken on board the French tug Calaisin, which then continued to follow Holbein. The fifth hour saw at least another knot covered towards the French coast, Holbein still going very strongly. Bearings taken at 10 o'clock showed that Holbein was five miles from the English coast. The tide was still taking him well eastward, the drift on the swim having been six miles. In the opinion of Captain Groves, still further eastward drift would be advantageous, as Holbein would then catch an outset with the ebb tide, which would assist him greatly. The end of the sixth hour found him six miles out. The temperature of the sea was 61deg. and of the air 56deg. Holbein asked for and was given some sugar sandwiches about 11 o'clock. He continuously used his new side stroke, averaging 24 strokes to the minute. About half-past 11 the French mail steamer from Dover to Calais projected her search light on to the swimmer and the accompanying fleet, which she passed quite closely. Between 10.30 and 11.30 Holbein covered well over two miles, directly on his course, with practically no drift. The western tide began to flow at 11 o'clock, but proved very slack for the first hour, and the swimmer continued to make excellent head- way. On the completion of the eighth hour Holbein was half way across the Channel and making a splendid course. About 1 o'clock he began to experience a bad time, being fre- quently sick, with other bad symptoms. So ill did he seem that Nr. Nix, in charge of one of the feeding boats, came up to the tug to get some webbing in order to assist Holbein out should it be necessary. In spite of his illness the swimmer kept steadily on. At the end of the ninth hour and throughout the tenth his condition was much the same. Then he sud- denly inquired whether he had been swimming for ten hours, and on being informed that he had been in the water over that time, he an- nounced his intention of giving up, adding that he had been sick nearly all the night. He then caught hold of the boat and tried to climb in, but he had some difficulty owing to his weak state, and had to be assisted. The final bearings showed him to be then III miles from gs 4 the English shore, having swum for ten hours and 20 minutes and covered about 20 miles. His illness was caused by the cold and the swallowing of the sea water. Holbein was en- veloped in flannels steeped in hot water, and given hot drinks, under the influence of which lie rapidly improved, and when the tug reached Dover two hours later he was able to walk to his hotel. He had quite recovered on Sunday, and declares he will make another attempt in a fortnight's time. He states that he was much impressed by the advantage of the new course. Haggerty and Greasley both made very in- o; effectual attempts; they entered the sea from the end of the Admiralty Pier extension, which is about a mile from the shore. Haggerty started at 6 o'clock on Saturday evening and Greasley at 8 on Sunday morning. On both occasions the sea was fairly smooth, and the temperature varied from 62deg. in shore to 60deg. further out. The swimmers wore no protection for the eyes, but they had a thick covering of protective grease on their bodies. When Haggerty was about two miles from the shore off the South Foreland, where he had drifted, he was seized with cramp, which af- fected the whole of the muscles of his body except the arms. He turned quite blue, and had a narrow escape from drowning, being rescued with difficulty. Under the care of Dr. Forbes Ross on board the accompanying tug Britannia he soon recovered. Greasley found the sea too cold to afford any chance of success, and gave up after 55 minutes.

Mr. Timothy Healy, M.P., married a daughter of the late Mr. T. D. Sullivan, M.P. As the happy couple were leaving the residence of the bride's parents to start their honeymoon, Mr. Sullivan noticed that his son-in-law had by mis- take taken the wrong umbrella. Rushing to the window he shouted, "Hi, Tim, that won't do. I've got six daughters, but only one good umbrella. Bring it back 1" Civilisation proceeds with speed in Abyssinia. Nearly 800 miles of telephone wire have already been put up there, and 1,000 miles more are under construction. The contractor's task, however, is by no means an easy one. The chief trouble is gjvan by elephants, who use the poles as scratching-posts, knocking them down in this salubrious exercise, and monkeys who swing on the wires.

WOMAN'S WORLD. I WOMAN'S. WORLD. I THB WOMAN OF TACT. A woman of tact is one who fenls (says a writer in the "Daly Mirror") that the story told to hurt your feelings is essentially bad form. A woman of tact is the woman who is courteous to old people, who laughs with the young, and who makes herself agreeable to all her own sex in every condition of life. A woman of tact is one who makes her good-morning a plea- sant greeting, her visit a bright spot in the day, and her good-bye a hope that she may come again. A woman of tact is one who does not always gauge people by their clothes, or their riches, and who strongly condemns bad manners. A woman of tact is one whose love for humanity is second only in her life's devotion, and whose watchword is un- swerving unselfishness in thought and action at all times and in every season. THE FIRST KISS. Folks are quite contented to go on kissing without wondering who invented the salute or as to who gave the first kiss, yet there is a dainty little legend as to the first kiss. It is said that there was once a beautiful young shepherdess in Greece, who when out one day with her lover picked up an opal on the hills. Wishing to give the jewel to her sweetheart, whose hands were both occupied, she placed the gem on her lips and let him take it from her with his own. Then, tasting of this pleasure that had been revealed to them by accident, they continued the agreeable habit of kissing, and soon found that others began to copy their example. WHAT IS Lovs ? What does love mean, or, rather, what will it mean to me ?" queried a girl reviewing the lives of her sisters. And many another girl quite heart-whole has asked herself the same question. Will love, when it comes, bring her all the happiness she would wish ? Will it always make her life bright and happy, will it burn ever strong or will it have a fierce flare at first and then quiet down until it is like smoulder- ing ashes that only now and again emit a bright spark. If only she could penetrate into the future. She feels now that when love comes it will find her ready to meet it with outstretched arms, and that her love will make her strong to I dare and do all for her loved one's sake. She j thinks for better, for worse will not hold any j meaning for her, love will be all-sufficient. Then she thinks again, what if the love that is roused in her be but a weak, faltering love, a mere echo of a love that is already somewhat feeble? Will love make too great a demand upon her, will the sub- stantial comforts of her home life prove too strong in the face of the only love she will ever know, and will she discard the lover who comes to woo ? How many a girl wishes to know what love will mean to her! LOVB LETTERS. To sit down. and have to think out a love-letter cannot result in a much appreciated epistle. Love- letters to be what it is supposed they should be-an expression of "I love you"— must come from the heart. The words should just be poured forth from the heart that is full of the message. A business or even a friendly letter can be planned out and sound true, but a lover would soon detect the false ring in a note that was not spontaneous. Love-letters are precious for this very reason, that whilst others are conventional, love knows nothing of time or the world and its affairs, and its messages from heart to heart are things apart. What love says was never intended to be stemmed, to be thought over so that a letter be a little gem of literature. A j love-letter is a thing of beauty to the one to whom 'tis sent, and whether it be perfectly grammatical, j or even appropriately punctuated, will matter little 1 to the man whose heart responds to every word received from his sweetheart. Let husbands and wives, lads and lasses, write love-letters, but let them be what they are supposed to be, & ] message of love from heart to heart. WOMAN'S WAY. It was her very first love-letter (With an exception or two). She wrote a half a day or better Before she said 'twould 'do." Note after note she wrote, re-wrote, And finally wrote anew. 'Twas done at last—a tedious task To clear away the waste. What wrote she ? What need to ask ? Figure yourself so placed. Thus finished she "P.S.-Pardon me For writing in such haste." WOMEN OF TIBET. The clothing of women in all parts of Tibet is made after the same pattern. In many districts the young belles smear their faces I with a repulsive cosmetic of black, sticky paste in order that by their beauty they may not allure the lamas from their devotions. Other women, instead of painting, weave their hair in fine plaits and let it fall like a veil over their faces. It is amusing to see a good-looking girl in her pulu gown and ornaments hastily pull her veil of plaits over her face when a lama approaches. The Tibetan women dress in most fantastic style, in long, gaudily-coloured dresses fastened by green or red sashes. They wear clumsy top-boots and most elaborate headdresses. The favourite fashion is a great hat with white fur brim and red tassels hanging from the pointed crown. HAIRPIN WORK. Hairpin work has just been elevated by a grand couturier to f the honour of the ornamenting j costly gowns in delicate flimsy j material, such as crepon, eolienne, soie de chine, lavishly tucked and gaged. In such a case the trimming, over two inches wide, simulating gimp, is made on large shuttles with coarse and silky macrame cord, exactly matching the colour of the dress, mostly of chamois or straw colour. Sewn through the plaited centre, with the hoops pro- jecting either side quite free, it is arranged in graceful meanderings, which occasionally encircle Teneriffe wheels, likewise wrought in extra coarse thread. The effect is uncommon, altogether novel and somewhat rustic, but, above all, forms a strong contrast with the ordinary types of garniture now in vogue, generally being either extremely diaphanous, supple, or dazzling. OVER DRESSING. Unless one can afford all the belongings, the setting, so to speak, of a beautiful gown, one should prefer something less I elaborate, and feel that one's appearance, while not so ostentatious, is at least in perfect taste-an infinitely preferable condition. Extravagance in dress has other bad features, aside from its evi- dences of bad taste. It induces many women of less means to indulge in fancy and ill advised clothing which they cannot afford, simply to make an appearance of equal showiness. It is a sad commentary on the vanity of women that this should be so, but half the extravagance of which they are guilty comes from a desire to emulate their wealthier friends, or to go forth in the evening, gowned so showily that they will be the observed of all observers and deceive people into thinking that they aie rolling in wealth. This is a sorry ambition, but it is encouraged by the pronounced over-dressing in public whieh has become so common. BAREGE GOWNS. Among the materials for gowns that will find much favour this year is the old-fashioned barege. Among the materials for gowns that will find much favour this year is the old-fashioned barege. Its soft fabric lends itself readily so tne puffings and snirrings or tne iasmon, wmie I the coloured drop skirt-either self coloured or in some pretty contrasting shades-will show prettily some pretty contrasting shades—will show prettily through its meshes. This is to be found in a great variety of colourings and will be used for afternoon as well as evening costumes.

Rev. Arthur Ward, of Leatherhead, landed after an exciting struggle, which lasted over an hour, a pike from the Mole, near Cobham. It measured 3ft. 7in. from tip to tail, and 3ft. 3in. in girth. It is said that no fewer that 7,769 school gardens exist in Austria, not including the sister kingdom of Hungary. They are connected with both private and public schools, and are used for purposes of practical instruction in horticul- ture and tree-growing.

I HOME HINTS. Queen's Pudding.—Take a cupful of bread which lias been soaked, add to it two ounces of butter and two eggs well beaten, and sweeten it to taste. Butter thoroughly a r^und pud- ding basin and line it with preserved fruits, shredded angelica, and lemon peel arranged in a fanciful pattern. Pour in the mixture and cover the basin with a buttered paper, and bake or steam the pudding until it is thoroughly cooked. Turn it on to a glass dish, and serve it cold with boiled custard arranged round it. Fig Cake.—Cream one cup of butter and two cups of brown sugar. Mix thoroughly, and add four beaten eggs, one, teaspoonful of ground cinnamon, one-half teaspoonful of ground cloves, one cup of water, and three cups of flour sifted with two teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Cut one-half pound of figs and two eupluls of raisins in small pieces, dredge them with one-quarter of a cup of flour, and add to the mixture. Pour into a well-buttered pan and bake in a moderate oven for two hours. Beet Salad.—Line a salad bowl with crisp let- tuce leaves, and pile on neatly alternate slices of boiled beets and hard-boiled eggs. Let the beets predominate. Sprinkle the top with onion and parsley, chopped very fine, and cover with French dressing to which has been added a da-sh of tomato ketchup. This is a wholesome salad Tomato Salad.—On a foundation of crisp leaves from a lettuce heart arrange alternate layers of sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and onions, and serve with French dressing. z, An Unusual Salad.—Dissolve one-quarter box of gelatine in one-half a cup of water. Stew eight tomatoes and press them through a sieve. Season with pepper and salt, and pour over the gelatine while the tomato is still hot. Have ready a movM dipped in cold water. Pour in the tomato mixture and set away for several hours to chill. Serve on a bed of crisp lettuce leaves with mayonnaise of French dressing: or the jelly may be cut up into little blocks and served on individual leaves. Crab Salad.—This is a nutritious dish. To one-half pound of the picked crab meat allow two tablespoonfuls of lemon juice and one-half salt-spoonful of paprika. Mix these three in- gredients and stand away on the ice to mellow. Serve on individual lettuce leaves with a dash of salt and mayonnaise dressing. Sprinkle the top of each portion with finely-chopped parsley. This will take half a cup of mayonnaise dressing. 1 9- The fish and dressing should not be permitted to stand for any length of time, but should be served as soon as mixed. Calves Foot Fritters.—Calves' feet and calve's foot jelly are among the most nourishing and lightest of the foods generally ordered for in- valids, and in many cases the patients almost live on them for some time. They are especially good for children, but these easily tire of them', and it is difficult to find some new way of pre- paring them. A very good way of using calves' feet after jelly has been made from them is to make them into fritters. Whilst they are still firm, remove them from the stock," split them open, and take out the bones. Allow the meat to get cold, then cut it into rounds about the size of half-a-crown. Dip them in batter, and fry a pale colour. Drain them, and serve with tomato sauce. Cherry Cake.—An excellent recipe for this cake is as follows —Take a round, 'flat sponge cake-the kind used for Victoria sandwich—and cut it evenly through. Place the top half of the cake on a plate, with the cut side upper- most. Moisten with a trifle sherrv. Have ready some cherries, stoned and' carefully stewed in a thick syrup of sugar and water. Arrange them plentifully on the lower half of the cake. Replace the upper half. cover with whipped cream, and ornament here and there with a few of the stewed cherries. Hot Tea-Kisses."—Half a pound of flour, 3oz. of butter, two teaspoonfuls of baking-powder. Rub butter into the flour lightly, add baking- powder, mix to a very stiff dough, drop small lumps (rough) on the oven-sheet, dusted with flour- Bake fifteen minutes in a quick oven. These can be mixed with water or milk. Cut open and butter while hot. Tomato Ketchup.—Half a bushel of tomatoes, quarter of a gallon of vinegar, salt, loz. cloves, 1 4 2oz. allspice, oz. of black pepper, two heads of garlic (skinned). Boil the tomatoes till quite soft; then squeeze through a fine sieve. Add the vinegar and other ingredients. Mix well, boil for three hours, and bottle without straining. Roast Grouse.—Ingredients: A brace of grouse, two slices of fat bacon, an ounce of butter or good dripping. The birds must be carefully plucked and trussed, but not washed inside, onlv wiped with a clean, damp cloth. The slices of bacon should be large enough to well cover the breasts of the birds. Tie a. slice over each to prevont them getting dry. Next wrap each bird up in a piece of buttered paper, then either put them in a baking-tin with the butter or hang them in front of a clear fire. They will take about twenty minutes to cook, and must be well and frequently basted. Ten minutes before they are done remove the paper and slice of bacon, so that the birds may get nicely browned, and at the same time place a neatly-trimmed slice of toast under each bird to catch any gravy from it. Arrange the toast on a hot dish, and place a bird on each slice.—"Daily Mirror." Sardine Eggs.—An appetising dish is sardine 11 eggs. For_ each egg to be used allow two sar- dines. Boil the eggs hard and take out the yolks carefully, without breaking the whites. Scald the sardines, season with salt, cayenne, and lemon juice chop very small, and 'then pound with butter and the yolks of eggs. Fill the boiled whites of eggs with this mixture. Press together serve when set and perfectly cold. Potatoes and Cream.—For potatoes baked in cream, boil the potatoes, and when cold cut them in very small pieces. Put them in a saucepan over the fire, moisten well with cream, add pepper and salt to taste, and when hot turn into a baking dish. Have the dish full, level it off, sprinkle bits of butter and some grated cheese over the top, and brown in a hot oven. Curried Eggs.—Curried eggs are a. delicious breakfast dish. Bring one pint of milk to a boil; thicken with one tablespoonful of curry powder mixed to a smooth pa-ste with a little cold milk. When of the consistency of cream poach in it", one at a time, a sufficient number of eggs. As cooked, transfer carefully to squares of'buttered toast arranged on a, hot platter. Pour the sauce around the toast and serve. To Mend Glass.—If you happen to break a glass or valuable glass ornament, it can be effec- tually and easily mended in the following way — Melt a little^ isinglass in spirits of wine, add a small quantity of water; warm the mixture gently over a moderate fire. When mixed by thoroughly melting it will form a perfectly trans- parent glue, which will unite glass so nicely and firmly that the joint will scarcely be noticed by the most critical eye. A Medicine Dial.—A unique contrivance for the tourist appears at first glance to be a travelling clock in a leather case.. The dial, however, is inscribed with the words "next dose" instead of the regulation numerals. The clock proves to be a box, which, when opened, shows a medicine glass, with drachms and other druggist's measures checked off on its surface. The hands of the mock clock can be moved round a.nd the hour for the next dose thus accurately kept in mind.,

Little Boy: "England's a free country, ain't it, pa?" Mr. Patriot (enthusiastically): "It is, indeed, my boy!" Little Boy (aggrievedly): "Then why won't they let me into the circus %rtliout payin'T_