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i l}. orv " ______._._.â€".â€" " A ROMANCE OF THE CANADIAN NORTIâ€"Iâ€"VVEST. CHAPTER VI. THE PASSING or run YEARS. Lali’s recovery was not rapid. A change had come upon her. lVith that strange, ride had gone the last strong flicker of the 3 desire for savage life in her. She knew now ; the position she held towards her husband: ‘ that he had never loved her; _that she was : only an instrument forunwortlty retaliation. I So soon as she could speak after her acci- dent, she told them that they must not I write to him and tell him of it. She also i made them promise that they would l give him no news of her at all, save : that she was well. They could not re-l fuse to promise; l they felt she had the right to demand much more than that. They had begun to care for her for herself, and when the months went by, and one day there was a hush about her room, and anxiety, and then relief, in the faces or all, they came to care for her still more for the sake of her child. As the weeks passed, the fair-haired child grew more and more like his father ; but if Lali thought of her husband they never knew by anything 'ihe said, for she would not speak of him. She also made them promise that they would not write to him of the child’s birth. Richard, with his sense of justice, and knowing how much the woman had been wronged, said that in all this she had done quite right ; that Frank, if he had done his duty after marrying her, should have come with her. And because they all felt that Richard had been her best friend as well as their own, they called the child after him, This also was Lali’s wish. Coincident with her motherhood there came to Lali a new purpose. She had not lived .with the Armours without absorbing some of their fine social sense and dignity. This, added to the native instinct of pride in her, gave her a. new ambition. As hour by hour ier child grew dear to her, so hour by hour her husband grew away from her. She schooled herself against him. At times she thought she hated him. She felt she could never forgive him, but she would prove to him that it was she who had made the mis- take of her life in marrying him ; that she had been wronged, not he ; and that his sin would face him with reproach and punishment one day. Richard’s prophecy was likely to come true : She would dc- feat very perfect‘iy indeed Frank’s inten- tions. After the child was born, as soon as she was able, she renewed her studies with Richard and Mrs. Armour. She read every morning for hours ; she rode ; she practised all those graceful arts of the toilet which belong to the social convention ; she showed an unexpected faculty for singing, and practised it faithfully ; and she begged Mrs. Armour and Marion to correct her at every point where correction seemed neces- sary. When the child was two years old, they all went to London, something against Lali’s personal feelings, but quite in accord with what she felt her duty. Richard was left behind at Greyhope. For the first time in eighteen months he was alone with his old quiet duties and recrea- tions. During that time he had not neglect- ed his pensioners,-â€"-liis poor, sick, halt, and blind,-â€"but a deeper, larger interest had come into his life in the person ot‘ Lali. During all that time she had seldom been out of his sight, never out of his influence and tutelage. His days had been full, his every hour had been given a keen respon- sible interest. As if by tacit consent, every incident or development of Lali’s life was influenced by his judgment and decision. He had been more to her than General Ar- mour, Mrs. Armour, or Marion. Schooled as he was in all the ways of the world, he had at the same time a mind as senitive as a woman’s, an indescribable gentleness, a persuasive temperament. Since, years be- fore, he had withdrawn from the social world and become a recluse, many of his finer qualities had gone into an indulgent seclusion. lie had once loved the world and the gay life of‘Lppdon, but some unto- «ward event, coupled’vvith a radical love of retirement, had sent him into years of iso- lation at Greyhope. His tutelar relations with Lali had re- opened many an old spring of sensation and experience. Her shy dependency, her iii- nocent inquisitiveness, had searched out his rcmotest sympathies. In teaching her he had himself been re-taught. Before she came he had been satisfied with the quiet usefulness and studious ease of his life. But in her presence something of his old youth- ' fulness came back, some reflection of the ardent hopes of his young manhood. He did not notice the change in himself. He only knew that his life was very full. He read later at nights, he rose earlier in the morning. But, unconsciously to him- self, he was undergoing a change. active, the less is he the philosopher. It is only when one has withdrawn from the more personal influence of the emotions that one’s philosophy may be trusted, One may be interested in mankind and still be philo- sophical,â€"may be, as it were, the priest and coufessor to all comers. But let one be touched in some vital corner in one’s nature, and the high faultless impartiality is gone. In proportion as Richard’s interest in Lali had grown, the universal quality of his sympathy had declined. Man is only man. Not that his benefactions as lord bountiful in the parish had grown perfunctory, but the calm detail of his interest was not so definite. He was the same, yet not the same. He was not aware of any difference in himself. He did not know that he looked younger by ten years. Such is the effect of mere personal sympathy upon a man’s look and bearing. \Vhen, therefore, one bright May morning the family at Greyhope, himself excldued, was ready to start for London, he had no thought but that he would drop back into his old silent life as it was before Lali came and his brother’s child was born. He was not conscious that he was very restless that morning ; he scarcely was aware that he had got up two hours earlier than usual. At the l)reakfast~table he was cheerful and alert. After breakfast he amused himself in playing with the child till the carriage was brought around. It was such a morn- ing as does not come a dozen times a year in England. The sweet moist air blow from thegmeiidows and up through the limeqmees with a warm insinuating gladness. The more a man’s Sympathies and emotions are “we all feel you to be one of us.” The i you. X ' lawn sloped delightfully away to the flower-J interesting.” ed embrasures of the park, and 1 “rant abundance of flowers met the eye and cheer- ed the senses. While Richard loitered on the steps with the child and its nurse, more l eXCited than he knew, Lali came out and stood beside him. At the moment Richard ' was looking into the distance. He did not hear her when she came. She stood near; him for a moment, and did not speak. Her eyes followed the direction of his look, and idled tenderly with the prospect before her. She did not even notice- the child. The same thought was in the mind of bothâ€"- with a difference. Richard was wondering how any one could choose to change thel sweet dignity of that rural life for the flar- ing hurried delights of London and the sea- son. He had thought this a thousand times, and yet, though he would have been little wi'line' to acknowledge it, his convic- tion was not so impregnable as it had 'been. Mrs. Francis Armour was stopping from p the known to the unknown. She was leav- l ing the precincts of a life in Which, socially, she had been born again. Its sweetness and benign quietness had all worked upon her nature and origin to change her. In that it was an out-door life, full of fresh- ness and open-airvigor, it was not antagou, istic to her past. Upon this sympathetic basis had been imposed the conditions of a fine social decorum. The conditions must still exist. But how would it be when she was withdrawn from this peaceful activity of nature and set down among “those garish lights” in Cavendish Square and Piccadilly? She harle knew to what she was going as yet. There had been a few social functions at Greyhope since she had come, but that could give her, after all, but little idea of the swing and pressure of London life. At this moment she was lingering over the scene before her. She was wondering with the naive wonder' of an awakened mind. She had intended many times of late saying to Richard all the native grati- tude she felt; yet somehow she had never been able to say it. The moment of part- ing had come. “What are you thinking of, Richard?” she said now. He started and turned towards her. “I hardly know,” he answered. “My thoughts were drifting." “Richard,” she said, abruptly, “I want to thank you.” d“'I‘hank me for what, Lali?” he question- e . “To thank you, Richard, for everything, â€"since I came, over three years ago.” He broke out into a soft little laugh, then, with his old good-natured manner, caught her hand as he did the first night she came to Greyhope, patted it in a fatherly fashion, and said, “ It is the wrong way about, Lali : I ought to be thanking you, not you me. Why, look, what a stupid old fogy 1 was then, toddling about the place with too much time on my hands, reading a lot and forget- ting everything ; and here you came in, gave me something to do, made the little I know of any use, and ran a pretty gold wire down the rusty fiddle of life. If there are any speeches of gratitude to be made, they are mine, they are mine.” ‘_‘ Richard,” she said, very quietly and gravely, “ I owe you more than I can ever sayâ€"in English. You have taught me to speak in your tongue enough for all the usual things of life, but one can only speak from the depths of one’s heart in one’s na- tive tongue. And see,” she added, with a painful little smile, “ how strange it would sound if I were to tell you all I thought in the language of my people,â€"â€"-of my people, whom I shall never see again. Richard, can you understand what it must be to have a father whom one is never likely to see again '.’â€"â€"whom if one did see again, some; thing painful would happen? We grow away from people against our will; we feel the same towards them, but they cannot feel the same towards us ; for their world is in another hemisphere. lVe want to love them, and we love, remember, and are glad to meet them again, but they feel that we are unfamiliar, and, because we have groyvn different outwardly, they seem to miss some chord that used to ring. Richard, Iâ€"I â€"~â€"â€"” She paused. ' “ Yes, Lali,” he assented, “yes, I under- stand you so far ; but speak out.” “I am not happy,” she said. “I never shall be happy. I have my child, and that is all I have. I cannot go back to the life in which I was born : I must go on as I am, a stranger among a. strange people, pitied, suffered, cared for alittle,-â€"-and that is all.” The nurse had drawn away a little dis- tance with the child. The rest of the family were making their preparations in- side the house. There was no one near to watch the singular little drama. “ You should not say that,” he added: “But all your world does not feel me to be one of them,” she rejoined. “We shall see about that, when you go mother, his pupil, were gone also. You are a bit morclit, Lali. I dered about in a. kind of vague unrest. The up to town. don’t wonder at your feeling a little shy; but then you will simply carry things be- fore you,â€"-now you take my word for it! For I know London pretty well.” She held out her uugloved hands. “ Richard,” she said, drawing her hands away, “is that why you like to look at me '2" ‘ He had recovered himself. He laughed in his old hearty way, and said: “ Yes, yes : why of course ! Come let us see the boy,” he added, taking her arm and hurry- ing her down the steps. “ Come and let us see Richard Joseph, the pride of all the Armours.” . She moved beside him in a kind of a dream. She had learned much since she came to Greyhope, but she could not at that moment have told exactly why she asked Richard the question that had con- fused him, nor did she know quite What lay behind the question. But every problem which has life works itself out to its ap~ pointed end, if fumbling human fingers do notmeddle with it. ~Half the miseries of this world are caused by forcing issues, in every problem of the affect-ions, the emo- tions, and the soul. There is a law work- ing with which there should be no tamper- ing, lest in foolish interruption come only confusion and disaster. Against every such question there should be Written the one word, lVait. Richard Armour stooped over the child. “ A beauty,” he said, “ a perfect little gentleman. Like Richard Joseph Armour there is none,” he added. “ \Vhom do you think he looks like, Richard?” she asked. This was a question she had never asked before since the child was born. Whom the child looked like every one knew; but within the past year and a half Francis Armour’s name had sel- dom been mentioned, and never in connec- tion with the child. The child's mother asked the question with a strange quietness. Richard answered it without hesitation. “ The child looks like Frank,” he said. “As like him as can be.” “I am glad,”she said, “forallyoursakes.” “ You are very deep this morning, Lali,” Richard said, with a kind of helplessness. “Frank will be pretty proud of the young- star when he comes back. But he won’t be prouder of him than I am.“ “I know that,” she said. “ Won’t you be lonely without the boyâ€"and me, Rich- ard ‘2” Again the question went home. “Lone- ly? I should think I would,” he said. “ I should think I would. But then, you see, school is over, and the master stays behind and makes up the marks. You will find London a jollier master than I am, Lali. There’ll be lots of shows, and plenty to do, and smart frocks, and no end of feeds and frolics ; and that is more amus- ing than studying three hours a (lay with a dry old slick like Dick Armour. I tell you What, when Frank comesâ€"â€"” She interrupted him. “ Do not speak of that,” she said. Then with a sudden burst of feeling, though her words were scarcely audible. “ I owe you everything, Richard â€"â€"-evci'ything that is good. I owe him noth- ing, Richard,â€"nothing but what is bitter.” “Hush, hush,” he said : “you must not speak that way. Lali, I want to say to you~__’l ’ At that moment General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion appeared on the door- step, and the carriage came wheeling up the drive. \Vhat Richard intended to say was left unsaid. The chances were it never would be said. “ Well, well,” said General Armour, calling- down at them, “ escort his imperial higlmess to the chariot which awaits him, and then ho ! for London town. Come along, my daughter,” he said to Lali, “ come up here and take the last whiff of Greyhope that you will have for six months. Dear, clear, what lunatics we all are to be sure ! Why, we’re as happy as little birds in their nests out in the decent country, and yet we scamper off to a smoky old city by the Thames to rush along with the world, in stead of sitting high and far away from it and watching it go by. God bless my soul, I’m old enough to know better. Well, let me help you in, my dear,”-â€"â€"he added to his wife,â€"“ and in you go, Marion, and in you go, your imperial highness,”~â€"â€"he passed the child awkwardly in to Marion,â€"â€"“ and in you go, my daughter,” he added, as he handed Lali in, pressing her hand with a brusque fatherliuess as he did so. He then got in after them. Richard came to the side of the carriage and bade them- all good-by one by one. Lali gave him her hand, but did not speak a word. He called a cheerful adieu, the horses were whipped up, and in a moment Richard was left alone on the steps of the house. He stood for a time looking, then he turned to go into the house, but changed his mind, sat down, lit a Cigar, and did not move from his seat until he was summoned to his lonely luncheon. Nobody thought much of leaving Richard behind at Greyhope. It seemed the natural thing to do. But still he had not been left alone-â€"ent~irely aloneâ€"for three years or more. The days and weeks went on. If Rich- ard had been accounted eccentric before, there was far greater cause for the term now. Life dragged. Too much had been taken out of his life all at once ; for, in the first place, the family had been drawn to- gether more during the trouble which Lali’s advent has brought; then the child and its He wan- hardest thing in this world to get used to is the absence of a familiar footstep and the cheerful greeting of a familiar eye. And the man with no chick or child feels even “Do the absence of his dog from the hearth-rug they compare with the white hands of the when he returns from a journey or his day’s ladies you know '2” she said. “They ever seen,” he replied. yourself, sister of mine." are about the finest hands I have ness , “You can’t see of a woman and the hand of a child that It gives him a sense of strange- and loss. But when it is the voice work. is missed, you can back no speculation “1 do not care very much to see myself.” upon that man’s mood or mind or conduct. she said. “If I had not a maid I expect I I should look very shiftlcss, for I don’t care to look in a mirror. My only mirror used to be a stream of water in summer,” she added, “and a corner of a looking-glass got from the Hudson’s Bay-fort in the winter.” "\Vell, you are missing a lot of enjoy- Imerit,” he said, “if you do not use your mirror much. The rest of us can appreciate what you would see there.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Do you like to look at me?” she questioned with a strange simple candor. For the first time in many a. year, Richard Armour blushed like a girl fresh from school. The question had come so suddenly, it had gone so quickly into a sensitive corner of his nature, that he lost command of himself for the instant, yet had little idea why the command was lost. He touched the fingers ‘ on his arm affectionately. “Like to look at you ?â€"like to look at you? Why, of course we all like to look at 7 on are very fine and handsomeâ€"and l Armour. There is no influence like the influence of habit, and that is how, when the minds of people are at one, physical distances and differences, no matter how great, are in- visible, or at least not obvious. Richard Armour was a sensible man; but When one morning he suddenly packed a portinantcau and went up to town. to Cavendish Square, the act might be con- sidered from two sides of the equation. If he came back to enter again into the social life which for so many years he had adjur- ed, it was not- very sensible, because the world never welcomes its deserters : it might if men and women grew younger in- stead of older. If he came to see his family, or because he hungercd for his god-child, or becauseâ€"but we are hurrying the situa- tion. It were wiser not to state the prob- lem yet. The afternoon that he arrived at Cavendish Square all his family were out except his brother’s wife. Lali was in the drawing-room, receiving a visitor who had asked for Mrs... Armour and Mrs. Francis The visitor was received by Mrs. Francis Armour. that Mrs. Armour was not at home. She had by chance seen her and Marion in Bond Street, and was not seen by them. She straightway got into her carriage and drove up to C.wendish Square, hoping to find Mrs. Francis Armour at home. There had been house-parties at Greyhope since Lali had come there to live, ' but this visitor, though once an intimate friend of the family had never been a guest. The visitor was Lady Haldwell, once Miss Julia Sherwood, who had made possible what was called Francis Armour‘s tragedy. Since Lali had come to town Lady Haldwell had seen her, but had never met her. She was not at heart wicked, but there are few women who can resist an opportunity of anatomiziug and reckoning up the merits and demerits of a woman who has married an old lover. \Vhen that woman is in the position of Mrs. Francis Armour, the situa- tion has an unusual piquaucy and interest. Hence Lady Haldwell’s journey of inquisi- tion to Cavendish Square. As Richard passed the drawing-room door to ascend the stairs, he recognized the veices. Once a sort of heathen as Mrs. Francis Armour had been, she still could grasp the situation with considerable clearuess. There is nothing keenerthau one woman’s instinct regarding another woman, where a man is concerned. Mrs. Francis Armour received Lady Haldwell with a quiet state~ liness which, if it did not astonisli her, gave her sufficient warning that matters were not, in this little comedy, to be all her own way. Thrown upon the more resources of wit and language, Mrs. Fran’cis Armour must have been at a disadvantage. For Lady Haldwell had a good gift of speech, a pretty talent for epithet, and no unneces- sary tenderness. She bore Lali no malice. She was too decorous and high for that. In her mind the wife of the man she had discarded was a mere commonplace catas- trophe, to be viewed without horror, may be with pity. She had,heard the alien spoken well of by some people ; others had seemed indignant that the Armours \should try to push “ a red woman” The visitor knew into English society. Truth is, the Arm- ours did not try at all to push her. For over three years they had let society talk. They had not entertained largely in Caven- dish Square since Lali came, and those in- vited to Greyhope had a chance to refuse the invitations if they chose. Most people did not choose to decline them. But Lady Ha‘ldwcll was not of that number. She had never een invited. But now in town, when entertainment in net be more general, she and the Armours were prepared for social interchange. Behind Lady Haldwell's visits curiosity chiefly ran. She was in a way sorry for Frank Armour, for she had been fond of him, after a fashion, always fender of him than of Lord Haldwell. She had married with her fingers holding the scales of ad- vantage ; and Lord Haldwell dressed well, was immensely rich, and the title had a charm. When Mrs. Francis Armour met her with her strange, impressive dignity, she was the slightest bit confused, but not out- wardly. She had not expected it. At first Lali ‘did not know who her visitor was. She had not caught the name distinctly from the servant. Presently Lady Haldwell said, as Lali gave her hand, “I am Lady Haldwell. As Miss Sherwood I was an old friend of your husband." A scornful glitter came into Mrs.Armour’s eyes, â€"a peculiar touch as of burnished gold an effect of the light at a certain angle of the lens. It gave for the instant an uncan- ny look to the face, almost something malicious. She guessed why this woman had come. She knew the whole history of the past, and it touched her in a tender corner. She knew she was had at an advantage. Before her was a woman per- fectly trained in the fine social life to which she was born, whose equanimity was as regular as her features. Herself was by nature a creature of impulse, of the woods and streams and open life. The social con- vention had been engrafted. As yet she was used to thinking and speaking with all candor. She was to have her training in the charms of superficutlity, but that was to come ; and when it came she would not be an unskilful apprentice. Perhaps the latent subtlety of her race came to help her natural candor at the moment. For she said at once, in a. slow, quiet tone,â€" “I never heard my husband speak of you. \Vill you sit down ‘2” “ And Mrs. Armour and Marion are not in ?â€"-No, I suppose your husband did not speak much of his old friends.” The attack was studied and cruel. But Lady Haldwell had been stung by Mrs. Armour’s remark, and it piqued her that this was possible. “ Oh, yes, he spoke of some of his friends, but not of you. ” “ Indeed ! That is strange.” “There was no necessity,” said Mrs. Armour, quietly. “ Of discussing me? I suppose not. But by some chanceâ€"â€"” “It was just as well, perhaps, not to anticipate the pleasure of our meeting.” Lady Haldwell was surprised. She had not expected this cleverness. They talked casually for a little time, the visitor trying in vain to delicately give the conversation a personal turn. At last, a little foolishly, she grew;bolder, with aneedless selfishness. “ So old a friend of your huabanths I am, I am hopeful you and I may be friends also.” Mrs. Armour saw the move. “ You are very kind,” she said, conventionally, and offered a cup of tea. Lady Haldwell now ventured unwisely. She was nettled at the other’s self-posses- sion. “But, then, in a way I have been your friend for along time, Mrs. Armour.” The point was veiled in a vague tone, but Mrs. Armour understood. Her reply was not wanting. “ Any one who has been a. friend to my husband has, naturally, claims upon me.” “Lady Haldwell, in spite of herself, chafed. There was a subtlety in the woman before her, not to be reckoned with lightly. “ And if an enemy ‘2” she said, smiling. A strange smile also flickered across Mrs. Armour’s face, as she said, “ If an enemy of my husband called, and was penitent, I shouldâ€"offer her tea, no doubt.” ' “ That is, in this country; but in your own country, which, I believe, is different’ what would you do?” . tlrs. Armour looked steadily and coldly into her visitor’s eyes. “ In my country enemies do not compel us to be polite.” “By calling on you ‘2” Lady Haldwell was growing a little reckless. “ But then that is amige country. \Ve are‘difl‘erent here. I suppose, hovrever, your husband told you of these things, so that you were not surprised. And when does he come ‘2 His stay is protracted. Let me see, how long is it ? Ah, yes, near four years.” Here she became altogether reckless, which she regretted afterwards, for she knew, after all, what was due herself. “ He Will come back, I suppose. " Lady Haldwell was no coward, else she had hesitated before speaking in that way before this woman, in whose blood was the wildness of the heroical north. Perhaps she guessed the passion in Lali’s breast, . perhaps not. In any case she would have said what she listed at the moment. \Vild as were the passions in Lali’s breast, she thought on the instant of her child, of what Richard Armour would say ; for he had often talked to her about not showing her emotions and passions, had toldher that violence of all kinds Was not Wise or proper. Her fingers ached to grasp this beautiful exasperating woman by the throat. But after an effort at calmness she remained still and silent, looking at her visitor with a scornful dignity. Lady Haldwell presently rose,â€"she could not endure the furnace" of that look,â€"and said good-by. She turned towards the door. Mrs Armour remained immovable. At that instant, however, some one stepped from behind a large screen just inside the door. It was Richard Armour. He was pale, and on his face was a sternness the like of which this and perhaps only one other woman had ever seen on him. Ea interuptcd her. (TO BE CONTINUED). 0 URIOUS I‘AOTS. Singular Incidents and Happenings In the Routine of Life. Game is plentiful in Maine this season especially deer and bear. A Kansas City man has a step-son who is ten years older than himself. Statistics show that the Chinese live longer than the people of any other nation. To avoid paying a license, a man in lVashington sold beer as soup, in large, bowls. In proportion to its size, the horse has a. smaller stomach than any other quadruped. A. yawn caused William Miller, of Shan- nondale, Ind., to stretch his lips so far apart that he dislocated his jaw. A fur cloak on exhibition at the VVorld’r Fair is worth $17,500. It is made entirely of tails of the Russian sable. The Mayor of Shepherdstown, W. Va., executes the law impartially. He recently fined himself for letting his cow run at large. Lovers will welcome a new safety enve- lope which has just been patented. It is so pasted and folded that it cannot be opened without being torn. The house of A. L. Beckwith, in Schley County,Ga., during a recent thunder-storm, was struck bylightning five different times in five places. The greatest potato-eaters are the people of Germany and Belgium. Their consump- tion of this vegetable averages 1,000 pounds per annum for each person. A Boston reporter, in his comments on a suicide in that city, wrote : “As the man was unmarried, there is absolutely no ap- parent motive for the self-destruction.” In seven months of this year 120persons in Chicago have lost their lives at railroad crossings., In Brooklyn the deadly trolley is striving to excel Chicago’s record. At the autumn maneuvers of the German Army,the sharpshooters will ride behind the cavalry, in steel-clad, bullet-proof vehicles, armed with the new small caliber rifles, charged with smokeless powder. The Chinese make tea by pouring boiling water into a cup, and dropping the tea. leaves into it. In a few seconds the leaves sink to the bottom, and then the fluid, being ready for use, is carefully poured off and drunk. In Belford, N.J., there isa factory where horses are converted into sausages, f,‘ir European consumption. It is feared that a few yards of the linked sweetness dissemi nate their aroma upon Coney Island’s balmy air. A case of monumental check was lately ' displayed by C. A. Collins, a San Francisco burglar. After despoiling a house of nearly everything it contained,furniture, clothing, etc.: and taking two days at the_job,during the absence of the family, he actually tried to mortage the house. Nearly all the farm work in Paraguay is done by women, while the men lounge around, play cards, and smoke. Farming is the chief industry of that country, and the men are so happy and indolent that they view with alarm any enterprise which would call for masculine labor. , In details which no one but a critical ob- server would be apt to note, Meissonier was very careful. Before painting one of his historic pictures, the scene of w hich is in a wheat field, he actually bought a wheat field, and had asquadron of cavalry gallop through it, that he might see how the wheat fell. A recent cyclone in Iowa followed the route of a railroad for many miles. Delib- eration on this fact has convinced a Keokuk theorist that it is possible to conduct all the cyclones out into the open sections of the country, where they can do little harm, by having railroads convenient for them to travel on. Cattle shipped from Chicago to Philadel- phia have been denied water during the whole trip. On their arrival in the Quaker City, just before being sold they are given all the water they can drink, and excessive thirst makes themabsorb al: out sixty pounds of the fluid. This the purchaser buys as beef, as the animals are sold by weight. The Others Were Busy. “What are those three sculptured figures that surmount the post-office i” asked a. visitor riding through Sackville street,Dub- lin, of the jarvey. “ Thim three figures are stuck up there to show it’s the post-office.” “ But why, and who are they?” The jarvey, resolved not to exhibit his ignorance, exclaimed :â€" V “ Thim three’s the Twelve Apostles !” “ Those three theâ€"~-~â€" '2” “Av course; sure you wouldn’t have them all out together; the rest is inside sortin’ the letters !” Some men are thought sagacious merely on account of their avarice ; whereas a child can clench its fist the moment it 1'3 born.