Ontario Community Newspapers

Markdale Standard (Markdale, Ont.1880), 15 Mar 1888, p. 2

The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

 â- â- "m ms^^m-.. m 'â-  ..â-  â-  r' sm i-1 'â- "i' "'^^^^i'^S^it^i^X^^ •^1 â- "W*. 7 V:. ' .f 0^ mi "• J-.4" "r^v 4 MTTH'S MMR. CHAPIER XXLâ€" (Ck)NTiNUKD) «' Poor mother I he has been sneering at OB all in his dreadfal cynical way, and knocked her up iato one of her a^fal head- aches," said Nuttie, who felt extremely angered by the grave tone of rebuke in the letter, and toast^ it over to her aunt with- out absolu ely reading it at all. Misj Head- worth wa^ agood deal distressed and anxious to know what Mrs. William Egremont meant but Nuttie pouti ely declared, " Oh, it is her headaches 1 You know she always had them more or less, and they have grown a great deal worse since she has laken to sitting in that horrid, stuflfy, per- fumy, cigar-ry room, and doesn't take half exercise enouo^b." AMd when Miss Headworth sliowed herself taauoh concerned about the state of things, Nutt'e coaxsd her, and declared that she should fancy herself unwelcome, and have to go and be/ a lodging somewhere instead of eiijjyins; her reprieve. And Aunt Ursel was far less impervious to coaxing than she used to be when she was the responsible head of a boarding house. She did most thoroughly enjoy the affection of her great niece, and could not persuade herself to be angry with her, especially when the girl looked up smiling and said, " If the worst caine to the worst and he did disinherit me, the thing would only right itself. I always meant to give it back to Mark." No great aunt in the world could fail to admire the generous spirit of the girl who came back from the great world of luxury, so loving and happy in her humble surround- in(;8. The only sighs were for poor Alic., in the hands of a man of wnom Miss Head- worth knew so much evil. If she were not wretched and a victim â€" and Nuttie did not think her such â€" she must surely be get- ting spoilt and worldly. Her daughter implied fears of this kind, yet who could read her letters and think so Nuttie was fortunately too much in awe of the Canoness to write all the pertnesses that tingled at her fingers' ends, and she sent a proper and fairly meek letter, intim- ating, however, that she was only too happy to remain at Micklethwayts. It was two or three diys more before she heard again. " My own deak child â€"They have let me Write at last, and I caa say how much I like to think of your nestling up to dear Aunt Ursel, and how glad I am to find that ahe was well enough to enjoy you. It is almost like being there ta hear of you, and the only thiog that grieves me is that your tathar is very much vexed at your setting vffin that sudden way, and at my being so foolish about it. His eyes have been very bad, and he missed me sadly while I was laid up. We are neither of us very strong, and we think â€" if Aunt Ursel can keep you for a little longer â€" it will be better for you to stay on with them, as it might be as dreary for you aa it was last winter, especially as the Rsctory folk will soon be going into residence. 1 will write to them about ii and persuade them to take something for your board so as to make it easy for them. And then you can have a fire in your room you must not IcAve it off now you are used to it. My dear, I wish you would writs a little apology to your father. I ought not to conceal that he is really very angry, and I think it would be well if you expressed some regret, or if you cannot truthfully do that, ask his par- don for your impetuosity for you know he cannot be expected to realiz3 all thit dear Aunt Ursel is to us. You cannot think how kind yuur Aunt Jane has been to me I did not think she could have been so tender. This is the first^letter lever had to write to you, my own dear child. I miss you every moment, but af tbr a\l,it is better you should be away till your father has overlooked this expedition of yours. I am sure he would if you wrote him a real nice letter, telling hoiv you were really frightened, and that it was not a mere excuse. Pray do, and then you can come back to your loving little mother. "A. E " "As if I would or could," quoth Nuttie to herself. " Apologise to him indeed, for loving the aunt who toiled for us when he deserted us. Poor littlo mother, ahe can't really expect it of ms. Indeed, I don't think she quite knows what she wants or waerher she likes ms to be|bereJor at Bri 'g fijld My belief is that he bul ies her less when I am out of the way, because she just gives way to him, and does not aissert any principle. I've tried to back her up, and it is of no use, and I am sure I don't want such a winter as last. So I am much better here and as to begging par- don, when I have done nothing wrong, I am sure I won't to please anybody. I shall, tell her that she ought to know me better than to expect it 1" Bnt Nuttie did not show the letter either to Aunt Ursel or Mary Nugent nor did ahe see that in which Alice had satisfied them that it might be better that her daughter should pay them a long visit, while Mr. Egremont's health required constant attendance, and the Canon's family were at Bedcastle. And as her husband was always open-handel, she could make Ur- sula's stay with them advantageous to their slender means, without hurting their feel- ings. She told them as much as she could, bat there was more that no living creature might know, namely, the advantage that Gre- gorio had gained over that battle-field, his master, during her days of illness. The first cold weather had brought on pain, anger and anxiety, nervous excitement and sleepless- tisss, which the valet had taken upon him to calm with a narcotic under a new name that at first deceived her till she traced its effects, and Inquired of Dr. Hammond about it. Unwillingly, on her account, he en- lightenel her, and showed her that, though the last year's care had done much to loosen the bonds of the subtle and alluring habit, yet that any resumption of it tended to plnoffe its victim into the fatal condition of the connriiied opium-eater, giving her every hope at the same time that this propensity might be entirely shaken off, and that the improvement in Mr. Egremont's health and habits which had set in might be confirmed, and raise him above the inclination. Could she have been rid of Gregorio, she would have felt almost sore of victory bnt •a it was, she believed the man ab- volately meant to baffle her, partiy «at of a spiteful rivalry, partly becaose his master's torpid indolence ooold be naed to ilia own advantage. She was abaolatdy certain that his sneering tone of remuk made her hnaband, dadUy dUnoUned to let «ny reli^oaa bode be near, or to permit her to dnnrlum t» any Soaday The battie must be fought oat alone. The gentle woman could have no earthly helper m the straggle. The Canon and Mark, the oily persons who could have given her the slightest aid, were both at a distance, e'«-en if her loyal heart could have brookei confes- sion to them, and she only hoped that Nuttie would never know of it. Only aid from above could be with her in the daily, hourly effort of cheerfulness, patience, and a!l the resources of feminine affection, CO avert the temptation; and she well knew that the presence of the ardent, unsubdued, opinionative girl would, alas 1 only doable the difficultes. So she acqui- esced, a« least for the present, in Nuttie's ^ra^d aciicirement of haviig broken away from all the wealth and luxury [of Bridge- field to return to her simple home and good old aunt. Mark was a good deal vexed, but Nuttie did not care about that, attributing this displeasure to E^reinont clanship Mary Nugen: was doubtful and anxious, and tbojght it her duty to reconcile herself to her lather but Miss Headworth, who, be it remembered, had reason to have the worst impressions of Mr. Egremont, rejoiced in her young niece having escaped from him for the lime, and only sighed over the impossibil- ity of Alice's doing the same. And when Nut- tie described, as she constantly did, the var- i lus pleasures she had enjoyed during the past year, the good old lady secretly viewed her as a noble Christian heroine for resigning all this in favour of the quiet little home at Micklethwayte, though reticent before her, and discussed her excellence whenever she was alone with Mary. Nor would Miss Nugent vex her with contradictions or hints that what Nuttie was giving up at present might be a dull house, with her mother engrossed by an irritable semi-invalid, and the few gaieties to be enjoyed by the help of the Canon's family at Badcastle. She did ask the girl whether Mrs. Egremont, being avowedly not quite well, mi(;ht not need her assis- tance but Nuttie vehemently disavowed being of any possible use to her father he never let her read to him 1 oh no 1 he called her music schoolgirly, a mere infliction he never spoke to her if he could help- it, and then it was always with a sort of sneer she believed he could not bear the sight of her, and was ashamed of it, as well he might be 1 For Mrs. Houghton's disclosures had rankled ever since within her, and had been confirmed by her aunt. " But that is very sad," said Mary. " I am so sorry for you. Ought you not to try hard to conquer his distaste " " I why, he cares for nothing good 1" " Nav," smiling. "Notforyour mother?" " Oh 1 She's pretty, you know besides, she makes herself a regular slave to him, and truckles to him in everything, as I could never do." ' Perhaps she is overcoming evil with good." " I am afraid it is more like being over- come of evil. No, no, dear Miss Mary, don't be shocked. The dear little mother never would be anything but good in her own sweet self, but it is her nature not to stand up for anything, you know. She seems to me just like a Christian womin that has been obliged to marry some Paynim knight. And it perfectly provokes me to see her qaite gratified at his notice, and ready to sicrifice anything to him, now 1 know how he treated her. If I had been in her place, I wouldn't have gone back to him no, not if he had been ready to crown me after I was de4.d, like Ines de Castro." " I don't know that you would have had much choice in that aae." 'M/very ghost would have rebelled," said Nuttie, laughing a little. And Mary could believe that Mrs. Egre- mont, with all her love for her daughter, might fiad it a relief not to have to keep the peace between the father aad child. " Yet," she said to herself, " if Mr. Button were here, he would have taken her back the first day." CHAPTER XXIL DISENCHANTMENT. ' He promised to buy me a bunch of blue ribbans.' St. Ambrose's road was perfectly delight- ful as long as there was any expectation of a speedy reciU. Every diy was p.eciouj every meeting with an old face was joyful each interchange of words with Mr. iSpyers or Gerard Godfrey was hailed as a boon not'ning was regretted but the absence of Monsieur and his master, and that thef avour- ite choir boy's voice was cracked. But when there was reason to think that 8 iC3esa had been complete, when Miss H aad worth had been persuaded by Mary ttiat it was wiser on all accounts not to mor- tify Alice by refusing the two guineas a week offered for Miss Egremont's expenses when a couple of boxes of clothes and books had arrived, and Ursula found herself settl- ed at Micklethwayte till after Christmas, she began first to admit to herself that somehow the place was not all that it had once been to her. Her mother was absent, that was one thing. Mrs. Nugent was gone, that was another. There was no Monsiear or Mr. Dutson to keep her in awe of his precision, even while she laughed at it. There were no boarders to patronize and play with, and her education at the High School was over. If she s|w a half-clothed child, it was not half so mteresting to bay an u?8 :er in the. next shop, as it was to turn over the family ragbag, koit, sew, and contrive I Somehow things had a weariness in them, and the lit- tle excitements did not seem to be the ex- quisite delights they used to be. After having stea Padince at the Piincess's it was not eaev to avoid criticising a provincial Lady Jane, and it was the like with other things of more importance. Even the ritual of St. Ambrose's Church no longer struck her as the ne p.'ua ultra of beauty, and only Incited her to describe diondon churches. She resumed her Sunday-school classes, and though she talked at first of their raci- ness and freedom, she soon longed after the cleanliness, respectfulness, and docility of the despised littie Bridgefordites, and utter- ed bitter things of Micklethwayte turbu- lenoe, declaring â€" perhups not irithont troth â€" that the childrcui haa grown mnch worse in her absence. And as Mr. Godfrey had been saperinten- dent dnrins the latter half of the time, this was a crnel stroke. He wanted to make her reverse her c^inions. And they never met without "Now, Urania, dont yon re- member Jem Barton- patting on Miss Pope's spectacles, and grinnug at aU the class." "Yea; and how Mr. Dntton faroofl^t liim np to bog lier pardon. Now, was any notioe «aken when %tux hatrIA hofâ€"l dont know bii BMBOâ€" tnnad the Imm tliay wsn ay. ing to her into "Xaaaqr* OMk* mom for yonrnaciof" "-:?-"--;•'..;'";-' "Oh, Albart Cox I It is no nse ddng anything to him, he would fco off atonoe to the Pri nitives." *â-  ♦• Let him 1" ^. • I cannot make him a«dt||mttjp "I wonder what ho is no w â- !"â-  ^t « Besides, Miss Pope pejfectly prtfrokes impertinence." ' ♦* ,^ "Then I wouldn't give h»t work ^he can t do." r" Such an argument aa^thia might bf very well at the moment of plovooation, but.it became tedious when reeuntod to at every meeting. Nuttie began to wonder when Monks Hortcn would be inhabitated aRMn, and how much notice Lady Kirkaldy would take of her, and she was a good deal disap- pointed when Mark told her that Lord Kirkaldy had been begged to undertake a diplomatic mission which would keep them abroad all the winter. There was a certain weariness and want of interest. It was not exictly that there was nothing intellectual going on. There were the lectures, but they were on chemis- try, for which Nuttie cared little. There were good solid books, and lively ones too, but they seemed pasae to one who had heard them discussed in town. Mary and Miss Headworth read and talked them over, and perhaps their opinions were quite as wise, and Miss Nugent's conversation was equal to that of any of Nuttie's London friends, but it was only woman's talk after all â€" the brilliancy and piquancy, the touch and go, she had enjoyed in Lady Kirkaldy's draw- ing-room was lacking. ' Mr. Spyers was too mnch immersed in parish matters to read anything secular, and neither he nor Gerard Godfrey seemed ever to talk of anything but parish matters. There was not the sUghtest interest in any- t iigbeyon\ Foreign politics, European ceie- britiea, â€" things in wnich Nuttie had learnt to take warm interes when with the Kirkaldyj, were nothing to them. Even Mary wonder- ed at her endeavours to see the day's paper, and she never obtained either information or sympathy unless she caine across Mark. It seemed to her that Gerard cared less for the peace or war of an empire than for a tipsy cobbler taking the pledge. The monotony and narrowness of the world where she had once been so happy fretted and wearied her, though she was ashamed of herself all the time, and far too proud to allow that she was tired of it all. Aunt Ursel at her best had always been a little dry and grave, an authority over the two nieces and thousrh softened, she was not expansive, did not invite confidences, and home was not home without the play -fellow mother. And most especially was she daily tired of Gerard Godfrey Had he always talked of nothing but ' the colours,' chants, K. C. U., classes, l^and teetotalism Whatever she began always came back to one or other of these objects, and when she impatiently de- clared that she was perfectly sick of hearing of the Ude of Sarum, he looked at her as guilty of a profanity. Perhaps it was true thit he was narrower than he had been. He was a good, honest, religiously- minded lad, but with no great depth or grasp of intellect Ursula Egre- mont had been his companion first and then his romance, and the atmosphere of the cooi- munity in which he lived had been studious and intelligent. His expedition to Badcas tie had convinced him thit the young lady lived in a different world entirely beyond his rcrch, and in the reaction of his hopeless- ness, he had thrown himself into the excite- ment of the mission, and it had worked on hiir a zealous purpose to dedicate himself totally to a religions life, giving up all worldly aims, and employing the small capi- tal he could call his own in preparing tor the ministry. Mr. Dutton had insisted tbat he should test his own steadfastness and resolution by another yeai's work in his present situation before he took any staps. He had «abmitted, but still viewed him- stlf as dedicated, and so far -as business hours permitted, gave his services like a clerical pupil to St. Ambrose's with the greatest energy, and perhaps somewhat less judgment than if Mr. Dutton had been at hand. Being without natural taste for intel- lectual pursuits, unless drawn into them by his surroundings, he had dropped them en- tirely, and read nothing but the ephemeral controversial literature of his party, and not much of that, for he was teaching, preach- ing, exhorting, throughout his spare time while the vicar was in too great need of help to insist on deepening the source from which his zealous assistant drew. As Miss Nugent observed, teetotalism was to him what dissi- pation was to other young men. (to BB CONTIUNKD. The Farmer's Case. "I've always hollered for high tariff in order to hyst the public debt, but now that we've got the national debt coopered, I wish they'd take a little hack at mine. I've put in fifty years' farmin. I never drank licker in any form. I've worked from ten to eight- een hours a day been eccnomical in doz, and never went to a show more'n a dozen times in my life raised a family and learn- ed upwards of 200 calves to drink oat of a tin pail without blowing their vittles up their sleeves. My wife worked alongside o' me sewin' new seats on the boys' pan a, skimmin' milk, and even helpin' me load hay. For forty years we toiled along toge- ther, and hardly got time to look into each others faces or dared to stop and eet ac- quainted with each other. Then her health tailed. Ketohed cold in the spring-house, probab'ly skunmin milk, and washin' pans, and scaldin' pails, and spankin' butter. Anyhow, she took in a long brisath one day while the doctor and me was watching her, and she says to me, ♦ Henry,' says she, 'I've got a chance to rest,' and she put oce tired, worn-out hand, on top of the other tired, worn-out hand, and 1 knew she'd gone where they don't work all day and do chores all night."-[Bm Nye. ♦ The Bifj^iit Sort of Sermon. At a recent gathering of Unitarians one speaker recited an anecdote wiiioh admits of large and varied application. It was the story of a minister who, preaching oil ex- change, said some strong things about fast horses. He was told after the sermon that he tal touched one of their best members on a tender point. "Well," said the K«"'»" "I cannot change my aermon for him.' In the evening the man was Intro- dnoed to the ndnistar, who said, " 1 nndsr- stood that what I add this morning toaeh- ed ona of yonr wwkwsMns. I aasiire you that I wu ahogaOer vnoonaolonB of "the 7«*faâ€" ^,1 " 1^" •'Oh» do nofr tranble yoanalf," mUi tito naa. **Ja Ii •â-¼â€¢qrjm MniwttMl dMM not Uk DEAGOED DOWH J»T WOLV£B. A Dreadf «1 Trat»»ly In » Wild Part ©1 Kii«ida. ABuBsioa hanfer related the following experience to a newspaper representative " On the second day of oar stay we were witnesses of a dreadful tragedy. It Was a cloudy day with occasional snow squalls, Ijiat no wolves came near as. At abont 2 o'clock while my companions were lying dnwn, I opened a slide to take a look over the highway toward Toblosky, For tour miles the highway was over a plain, and one could see every moving object. Then the road was lost in a pine forest, which stretched along for a couple of miles. I had BCMcely puUed back the slide when an object came in view on the road at the edge of the forest and in half a minute I had made out the horses. A sledge was coming our way, the first .which had passed since we took up our station. We had a pair of field-glasses in the car, and I had no sooner adjusted the focos than I uttered a shout which BBO0OHT MY COMPANIONS. to their feet. There were three horses abreast, and they were coming at a dead run, while on both sides of the sledge I could make out fieice wolves jumping up. The team was a powerful one, and coming very ftust, and in a minute more I made out that the sledge was surrftnnded by a great pfack of wolves. The driver was lashing the horses in a frenzied way, while the smoke and flame and faint reports proved that the occupants of the sledge were using fire-arms to defend themselves. We had two or three minutes in which to act. Each of us had the idea that the sledge would halt at our car for protection, or that the people in it would certainly leap out at that point. We opened one of the doors, got down our guns, and all were ready to leap out, when a dreadful sound reached our ears. It was the shriek of a horse. I say shriek, for it was nothing more nor less â€" a shriek of terror and despair. The cause was plain as we looked out. One of the horses had fallen when the sledge was hardly twenty rods away, and the other two HAD BKEn DBAGQED DOWN with him. We could not see them, how- ever, for the wolves. We just caught sight of two or three human figures in furs, heard the reports of pistols and the shouts of hu- man voices, and then the terrible din made by the wolves drowned all o^her sounds. We should have sprung out and gone to the assistance of the beset travellers, but before we could mbve a foot, our car was surrounded by wolves, and a mons-er got his head and shoulders into the doorway, and hung there for a few seconds despite the kicks from our heavy boots. We opened the slides and looked out, but all was over then. The carcases of the horses had been picked to the bone, the harness eaten, add the robes from the sledge were being torn apart as the wolves raced around. We saw pieces of bloody clothing scattered about, and we knew that the travellers had met a horrible fate. We learned afterward that there were four men in the sledge. The pack of wolves, which seemed to be larger than any which had yet gathered, hung about until we knocked over at least fifty of thsm, and then drew off to return at midnight. We kept our position for nine days before the men would come with the horses, and, although we preserved the scalps of only three wolves, we estimated the number of killed at over eight hundred. Society Manners. What is the real secret of being agreeable? E^ery one wishes to be so, particularly at tnis social time of year. Is it a natural gift or c kn it be acquir«d There are those who toil and strive for it, but never attain it, and there are those who have it in great perfec- ion without the least apparent effort. The xcUh to be agreeable is pact of the se- cret, provided the wish is sttong enough to overcome our indolence. One who goes to a party honestly determined to contribute his fair shture to the general enjoyment, rarely faiU to be agreeable. That resolve causes him to render his personal appearance as pleasing as possible, and this of itself is an important element of success. It is wonderful what spotless cleanliness and tasteful attire will do for people to whom nature has not been gracious. Be- sides disposing others to be easily pleased with us, it puts us in good humor with our- selves, and that helps us to get in friendly accord with the rest of the company. Those clubs and sociables which agree to meet without " dressing up," do not gener- ally last long. When people come together for any rational object, they ought to "dress up." It is impossible to overdress, and to attach an unreasonable importance to ex- ternals but, snirely, this is an extreme less to be deplored than abooriih indiffarence to the impression we make on others. It is not well to put on clothes which are costly beyond our means, or splendid be- yond the occasion bnt it is highly proper to express our respect for the company we enter by making ourselves as pleasing to the eye ai we possibly can. That Awfiil Microbe. The miscrohe theory seems destined to be held respopsible for ail the ills that flesh is heir to. M. Verneuil, a French scientist, is now engaged in collecting statistics which prove to his own satisfaction that lockjaw has its miscrohe, aad that this disease is both virulent and infectious. Mr. Verneuil further asserts that the hitherto respected horae is responsible for the lockjaw microbe, and that it in from this docile and asefal ani- mal that man ' catches" the disease. -The bite of a horse, he says, may often result in lockjaw, but a bite is not necessary to com- municate the disease, and owners of horses suffering from tetanus are implored by the scientist to qaarantine them so that neither manjnor beast shall be endangered. M Ver- neuil refers for partial confirmation of his theory to the fact that lockjaw most com- monly attacks persona who have to do with horses, the neat proportion of cases being thOTe of stablemen, coachmen and groomsT and he is confident that he wiU yet sncceed ill wrestmg tiie lockjaw microbe from his The exhibition in Lo»!^' Audtraha and Auitrlii "*lii4v notice to the Old^'SSS ffl influx of British ca S chiefly from insaranJS^ ' i«nfc! Queensland, which aa I h J' *^ ?|S our largest customers, luaS,"^i»Si Gold and sjlver,diamonr,!f:»- suddenly discovered-^*" ^ll^* for British capitarwwT.^ ^^ literally flowed into th^cot P^Jj The consequence U thaWliQ was on the verge of iMolvel"?*^ undergoing a period ofV^y"'»ii! unprecedented. This """"â- " ' trade with us, and we are il^^ ly sharing in her proS"'^J, colony the enormous tLi/« ""oiti has produced a comDletr,r '^«ir For years copper wiThThS*^ losing game. Where yourTin." Superior for instancef iTrnV^^ pay at the prevailing \^^lif\ years our people coufd nof 'Jiy! closed down m all direotiona LjT*' 1 To-day, however, withiri' asagainst the £40 of a few moS wl^ mines have been re-oDenerf j*^ payingdividends. ShaSv^lr the long-suffering public m?,^""' benefit a, well as ownW Ia"l7' ' at £167, some wonderfully richdC*T been struck in this colony t' months, and with cheap moneyi, 'j lack of capital, especially in rtew^"" tempting price of the mineral, to l2^ K^^ ""^m^ m"^^P'^S the fieri Broken Hill silver mine-that mi • which the shares marched steadily mT" by month, from £25 in April, \^'l in the middle of 1887, holding U £190and£195nowfor'BomeZtk these are important factors in oai improved condition, and note thatcomin is restored, that improvement should bee more pronounced this year. Another markedly good sign ig THE REVIVAL IN EBAL ESTATJ, TUl lately, for the last two years, tie estate business has been practioally d( with values, especially of gnbwbu « country properties, deteriorating 25 mj! per cent. The years 1882, '83 and 84 ' nessed such an unnaturally eicited market that it was clear the reaction i come sooner or later. And it did comei a vengeance, rather sooner too than i nine speculators were counting oa « while the last three months, in thiiui other commercial ventures, haeaeeatn ually growing better tone, with noni quiry. and with more buyers and fa anxious sellers in the market, it liiii mained for the last week or two to I about some extraordinarily heavy tn tions both here and in Melbourne. At,^ cate has been lately formed, consistiii^ capitalists in these two cities, whose i speculation lies in buyine up city pn^ tief. The other dav a property in tfaitc with a frontage of 200 feet to the priu^ street changed hands for the large snni £215,000j or $1,075,000. a pretty balkyn Another piece sol I for £43,000 and aiotl for £46,000, each on «ide streea. ' while, so far as the bigness of the tra tion is concerned, the first named involn the larger amount of money, some s have been made the last week in Melboi at over £2,000, or tes thousand dollabs pek foot, one property actually realizing £3,000. Fj a piece of property in Sydney, on a seen' main street, wtiere 12 months back the oil er asked, but could notaet £460perfooiL now wants. £800, with £750 freely offerei CABLEJEWS. gan Bemo Eeporti garian Question. March 8.â€" Evidentl J.crisifl in the Cro ' Is said to-day that his 7chwnberlain'8 departme. ord at the last moment 'ipono the Queen's levee "^nextweek. Certainl; j-_, for this event at Buck [^^^g made with such a Private stories about ^y he is now so reduce the would scarcely be rei who ax months ago w L his stalwart and hand8om( iB now snow-white, hu and sad. The chang [^ by the loss of all his leh badte be extracted in or â-  observations in the treat •t These alterations are -he public who at rare int. Eitsnt glimpse of him wali nv or sitting in an arm he is muffled in a huge tMid wears a largo soft fell his brows. But those or Mr the most melancholy i ^and sufferings. Those t seem te fear the most ths lation may come any day. patient has himself no ill B «jd has during the past I in his own hand not only hi • and touching political test .prince William. The lattei Et San Remo yesterday, is s lorts to be strongly in favoi UUte reiioval of the Crow yiam, but I have reason to c Eowly the revolving Bulgar r«t rottnd again to a point i ly waits to see what Turkey Ihslted at this point several liin the last four years. £a og delay it was officially dis key would do nothing, whic fidally knew from the bej i^ViV. this were a new de de weary circuit has been bf A correspondent is .. daily bulletins about thi lomatic manoeuvring, when 'a of gestation are about el _. The only difference tnis iRoBsian is now ready to at Vbment with an escort oi i ?50,000 mobilized troops. I wiU inspire the Moslem 1 ont that there really is sc per remains to be seen. 1 to the belief that Turkey e frightened and decline to ^ihg to coerce the Bulgari Jipt quite so clear as might be 1 English diplomats in Consli Iking like beavers to oEn Bsts and RaVowilz's intrigue Aie chief aim of the Turk's c: off till next month what o Jn done yesterday, there is tl Ibabiilty that we shall be 1 7 heels in idleness for a loi utbg his decision. CANDIES. Chocolate Cream Drops. â€"Mii o^ cupful of cream with two cupfuls of fir sugar boil and stir fully five minoa take it ofifand set the dish into anothal cold water and stir until it become! bardj the edge, then make into balls about r size of marbles, and with a fork wjl » one separately in the chocolate, whicH been prepared by steaming. Pat them ' brown paper to cool. Flavor with v«i if liked. This "makes about lifty dropi Peanut Caxdy.â€" Boil one cupfol ofn? aud one of molasses until it will be Ki" when cold; stir in half a pint of peanuBF before taking it off the stove. Cutinsqi* befoi-e it is cool enough to break. Ice Cream CANDV.-Take three caj of sugar, crushed or loaf a little less one-half cupful of vinegar one ff* cupfuls of cold water a piece ' "2,1 the 8lz9 of a walnut flavor ^^^-^^ boil without stirring until its spins » wu then pull until white. Cbeam WALNUTS.-Take two cnpft" sugar; two-thirds cupful of water -^ with lemon or vanilla, »" ""yseti stirring until it wi!l spin ftt'V**l,iBd off intJa dUh with a little cold water B^g stir briskly until white and ""l^-j,^' some walnuts (English) ^JJ^ Make the cream into sm^. "^j^jti with the fingers, and preM hall » w each side. For cream d»t», dates, remove the stones, m •" with the same cream. Philadelphia claims to e»* *°f„°^ii candy, in proportion to P«P«1»^°"'„ «. i otiier city in the "'^^•Jl,i\,m manufacturers and wholesalers »â-  ^.«, taUers. and they use more ^»« »^'^j of capital and consume IW.Ot^^ every year. Caramels »"» setter pl»»| of the trade in that city. f°\r^i^ much chocolate and walnut cw" gumdrops are made. Six °« "^litt**^! ' tere shipped from Pbil»'l«^PMy»'»f I the week before ChrUtmas. Bwok-j^ ^m the most chewing gum, it w » ' ton eate the most of it. k-S~*":r ^^•^ cMdren, the haiis of onr "Jd an all nunbered." Smut boy (polling witahafr and presenting it)~«*Well,\rh«t5 • nnmher of this hafr?*' Teaohor-!"Njun- •"LS^^ffhtoy; Md (paHing ont Mvwal " r ftMrt boyâ€" »K-ao, if." i^j-l ,v --^;-.- -je^ ,.!^*^^;; »,r; S;,j .kW-^.'.V:: Stv'.; i'-Sȴ iiii^ â- ^:S-% "^.-' iiiiiiiii Charles Boz Picken^-^^j, J Charles Dickens rec^ntly..^.. 0,^8*1 on a New York hotel «f"J .â- Ib««*;| Dickens." and said ^*^Ai,^ a little joke of my .g^^^'^Jdw" "SI present at my christeuu*. ^j^^ I father, in response to *l'«Sth*^j mynakeas Charles my J*" pat itjl tJed'Boz,' and the «°S;I*J| This IS my information, •«» oyielt JJI romembsr the circnmstan** 'j^J I am told that Charles u «»/ name." ^^ â-  â€" Sleep U death's yoa.««tt«i*'*!. Ilk. him that I w"" !•£«,. B«^ out my prayerâ€" [8»' •'^â- ^ Japanese Folitenes he men of Japan are alwaj pte to one another. The^l and bow their heads hands back to back betwe| hare a great time. '~ig thing is to see two| meeting one another i street is empty, we'll sight of one another U apart. They inunedid obeisance at one anotl bending and bowing at'sT I they come together, wl t peculiar hiss by drawina I keep on saying ' GhayoT Titos. The young thingsl are very charming p greeting of one anothe â- "1 are ornate and elabora And the language ha "iewto the necessitid Iw difference in rank. '•*» the e, is the verb l |*king to a coolie, someU yoo, " are " is good enl 1 are talking to one a lil yjm wish to be polite to 1 •nmas." if yon are ol 'SB equal, you say " g •yoo address a man hii ^you make it " gozariml â- * language and pulls o J jieoiedy foit KrnakesnosoJ 5*L Ahnndr -Toco neither a ^^adoseim imii to I ||p(|hH|aito1 i:,iMfe^:5.., ., ©J^Wi^ia^

Powered by / Alimenté par VITA Toolkit
Privacy Policy