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.= KERSHAM MANOR. CHAPTK XXXII. SIR MM. AMI'S IIKVfI.it, "If mv relations had not behaved so badly to me,' aaid Mr. Wyatt, in a queru- lous tone, "we should be better off now, and my daughter could look down on a arly jouruali.U" 1* was silting over a small fire on a chilly October afternoon, in the lodgings " Vou will be .urprised to hoar tl.at I have given up my consulship. "How is that?" "Tnere were several reanons. Kin* .lid not like the place. An I lull. Muriel U delicate ; the doctor* said that she must i-ome away. Some men Mod their mtves and families to Kmjland, and live abroad i themselves. I could not do that. Yon . with whi -a Phillis had provided him. They " now Nln : *"" kllow " not the woman were not lUinptuouailodKings; indeed, they I to Uk * * re ' n rsell. And her mother hai were far poorer than those which he had : gone abroad, oeunpied wlun hi. daughter was employed T.'VT own *"-" al the theater; but they were ne.it and I'Mhat U not worth talking about," he clean. l!i> aojourn in jail ha<l tendod to ! ' * wltn I'K l >t '>ut bitter smile. "I gave eober him, the grinding poverty id which he had found himself afterward had sobered him .till more. But in that interval hi. health had suffer- ed. The long, trembling hands whioh he held out to the warmth of the blaze were thinner and whiter than ever, hi. gaunt frame was racked by au inoissant cough. Anything like physical weakness was certain to rouse Phil's pity. She could say hard things to her father when he erred from the right way, Jjut she was gentleness it up my career long ago when I left Vienna *o soon after St. Petersburg. My uncle was wrong in trying to make a diplomaliat of me. Sebastian would have made thii con- feesion to nobody but Hither, who had known and loved hii uncle too. "Or rather when 1 tried it for myself. It wa* not my line." " Do you never write anything ?" sther a ikt-.l with diffidence. I used to. Not U'ely." ' thought that you were * -..-..,. . going to bring aelf when he suffered pain. It was only in , ou - >"<" uncle book," said Esther made a hospital that she would ever have had any tlD .'J J '"speech by his bittsr tone, chance of passing fora saint. w he had not been able to exert her n-trs- ing powers on J ack Drummond'. behalf, as he made it a point that *he ibould leave Mr*. Bain'* kitchen a* aoon a* he had was silent a moment, looking away from her as if watvhing the light upon the distant hills. Then he stid : " What will you think of me when I tell you that I have scarcely touched my uncle's cely , till . , ---- ........ , ------ forced from her the acknowledgment of her P'P* llno he <li<l, althoogb he left them love. > solemn charge to m i to complete and So *h* had gone ul.ini..i v.-ly back to her P nbl h '' lodgings, and tried to nnd other work. The ! . " ou h * ve ' an prevented ; you have flat was 'MO expensive for her now. .She b ** n liut y wit h olher thing*. ' ipenmv .11 r.i .i! found two small ro->mi in a poorer itreet, where (he received her father when became out of prison. On the occasion when Mr. Wyatt utter- ed hi* grumblicg protest against hii fami- ly'* unkiudiiflSK. r.ther was standing in the . ' \\ ith what other thing*? I have idled frittered away my time. I have done nothing." " Then you ar* going to do it now?" .Sebastian wa* lilent again.but he .miled. 1 don't think I ilull ever do anything at II " U_ , .1.1 ______ .!_ . . * 9 little room talking to 1'nillis. Mr. Drum- mond had found it neceuary to device a y*tem of communication with 1'hilli*, for he as not ye-. able to ri.it her, and *he --------- - could not viait him. Hi* office friend* \ Onl 7 of the infinitely little -" helped him oat of the difficulty. Mr. j ' " ^ ou * not -you are not!" cried Halam and Kit her oonveye.l meuages and ' l-jtn _ r passionately. I will not have you he said preent'y, in a lighter tone. "Yon are mistaken in me, a* my uncle wa*. I am a born trifler a flaneur a ' frivoler,' a* we call it in our modern slang capable So it came to pau that K*ther brought her friend a mesaags from Mr. Drummond, saying that the doctor 1 * report wa* very favorable, and that he wa* going out of door* on the morrow, though of course with a shade over his eyes. "And he can *<-e quite wll with one eye," said Ksthsr in a congratulatory tone. " Yes, but the other- " "He will be blind with life, I am afraid." Phil turned away and clenched her ban 4s. " Why does not com* < ne beat me? ' she aid. " Why didn't ihsy send metopriion? 1 * . ful ' ay so of yourself. Who made , think to ? how have you come to aay th tiling? When I rmemlr how you a you ess and __ your uncle uwd to talk of the great men of the earth how you need to say that no toll would be too great, no effort too intense, if only you might do aomething worth do- ing, something to make th* world better and nobler if only yon might add your ( nama t> the list of men who are remember- that eye all hi* ** M ome of your ancestor, have been, for j the work they have done ! when 1 think of this I can not believe that your bright I hopes have fadml, and that you have grown content with an ignoble life, in which you care only for trifljs, for amusement, for a , little measure of comfort and ease and " You should nol think of it in that way, J"X " I'hiL You did u to defend yourself you ' "'' r volce broke suddenly. did not know that he was there." I her breath and eat silent, the Iwa* ' I was not worth defending. She caught echo of her tresiing you ; Why dn you lay prowatl) and i urn your head away? What is it dear?" She wa* lilent. " Speak to me, Phil. I can't read in swers in your face as I used to do," said Jack softly. " It is only," .he laid, with a desperate effort at self-oommand, " that 1 don i like to see you - and my father so ready to take the Malets' bounty." "I don't mean to take a farthing of bounty, or to let yon do so either." " What then Jack ?" " My dear 1'hills, there i* no question of bounty in the matter. The mousy was be- queathed to your father, or to Mr. Malet n trust for your father, by Sir Roland Malet some year* ago. The money doe* not belong to any one bnt your father, at far a* I can make oat." "I don't understand Mr. Malet's storv " said Philli*. "He says thatSir Koland fe'fi this mon^y to u*. It was not left to us in Roland's will. Father ascertained ihat when he wa. stronger and more active than he is now. Father was very anxious kbout Sir Roland once bush, don't let him hear and I did my best to prevent him rom writing for money." "But he did write, did he not?" said ' c k. who had been having a conversation with Sebastian relative to the Wyatt*. "Yes, from Manchester. He gave me the letter to poet," said Phil, coloring. ' and I did not post it for a fortnight after- ward. I could not make up my mind to uppress it altogether, so I waited a tor; ligfcl. By that time father had made up his mind that they would not notice him again, and I persuaded him easily to let me take a situation with a traveling dramatic company that was just going to Scotland ; '' er sn answer came or not, I do not kr.ow. I took care to leave no address. "Yes, "said Jack. " An answer came, with a check, and a promise of fur' her help." " Then I'm glad we did not get it," cried Phil exultantly, " I never wanted a penny of their money, and I won't take it now." " Why do you hsu- the Malets ?" " Because they hated my mothnr and me. When my father married Alice Neave they would not speak to him again ; they cast him off ; they refused to have anything 10 do with him. They knew that he was in poverty ; they knew that she actually die! of hardship and misery. They knew r they might have known that her father and mother had grown poor, and that they wanted help too ! Hut they waited and waited until my mother was dead, and her parents were dead, aud my fathor had sunk sunk -ao low that be will never rise again ; and I I I " .he cried, covering her face with her band* and bursting into 'y, out of what he ought to have had years igo. If you did not think so, why, you .ricked him unknowingly, that is all. And /on ought now to make up for what you iav done by letting him take thi money peaceably, and helping him to use what is lawfully your own." " He may take it if he tikes. I csn work tr myself." " Yon would have been much happier, Phil, if you had waited for Sir Roland's let- 'erat Manchester, six years ago. You would not have had to drudge and toil and starve ; you would not have seen your fa- ther suffers* he has suffered ; he might have been oared for and protected himself from the temptations which assail him. You know yourself whether the last six year* have l-een happy ones " You hats lectured me quite enough, Mr. Drummond. I think I've had enough of it." "80 have I, Phil." "Let ma go. Take your rinz back." " Why?" "You say you have had enough of it ; and [ I hate you." "I've had enough of lecturing, I meant," said Jack in his usual easy voice ; "I don't mean to do any more of it. I have not had enough of you, my darling. There, I have said all I wanted to say. I will not men- tion the (ubject to you again. You know what I thins? you ought to do. Now you must decide for yourself." Mr. \Vyau.who had sought the seclusion of the next room, came back when he heard the sound of clinking spoons and plates. Jack had not come to tea It was his first visit in order to talk to Mr. Wyatt; mi. he had no chance of doing anything else. "hill is would not look at him, would aotsit >y him, or speak to him all ihe evening. At eight o'clock he rose with a disoonr- he must aged go. look and said that Whereat Mr. Wyatt, suddenly tears. I am a miserable, uneducated, "Mr. Drummond you," said K.ther. I own tones lingering in her ears and making would not agree with her "mad. "lam afraid, ".aid Sebastian, almost It was ih.-n that Mr. Wyatt made his re- helow "' breath, " ihat i. so, Ksther. I snark about hit relation., and the beggarly '""'' grown content with very little." journalist. Phillis flamed up at once "I owe Mr. Drummond a great deal more than I .hall ever be able to py, father. If 1 give him all my life, it woul.l be no more than he deserves. / ml a* for being a beg- garly journalist, he makes his own living and does good with what he earn*, whirr. i* mure than caa he (aid, perhap*, for your eni phai on the last word; and therein relations." lie. nr.y dissatisfaction. I have remembei- "'lh*y are a good family good county ! and neglected." family," maundered Wyatr, "They are " It is not t<x> late." Not one of the " But you need not tit down iu idleness, and be content to b* content, " .he aa.wer- el, half indignantly. And at any rale" her voice sank you will not neglect a trust, you will no longer forget what Sir Roland wanted you to do for him." "I have net forgotten, " hr laid, with an not upstart* or tradesfolk. Malets was ever in trad*, and ail of them have made their mark" "The Malets?" aaid Ksther, turning round on Phillis. She nodded. "The Malets. Ye*. That I* the name of soimof my father's relations. Much good they have done him, " Not the Malet* of Keraham Manor." exclaimed Ksthcr, laying a detaining hand on Phil', arm. "They live at Kersham Manor, I be- lieve," I'hil answered indifferently. "Y**, Kersham Manor," muttered Wyatt. ' Where I was brought up. They kicked me out like a dog when I married Alice Neave. Roland promised to do aomething for me, but he died, and left everything to the lad Sebastian wa* his name, I think." "Do you mean that you are relations- near relations of the Malets?" asked K.ther, with increasing surprise. " Not near relation, at all," sail Philli*. with lifud head. " Sir Roland Malet. and my father were cousins, that i* all. We know nothing of each other. I should l> very sorry if they ofiVed to do any thing for me. I hat* them all." She went about the room with curled lip ud flashing eye, while father stood ilrni, knitting her brow* and trying ti re member what Sebastian had said concern- ing some relation* to whom Sir Koland had left money. Hie could not remember that he had told her any name. But he wae in Kngland now. Nina had been itsying with her mother " I* it not? I can not tell; I think some- times that I have left the work too long. Theae years seem to have gone like a dream. suddenly And :iow come* the awakening." H said the last lew words in so low a tone that she caught them with dinV-nlty. The night was closing in upon them, the stars were coming out, and a chiM breeze blew from the rivtr. Knher rse to go. He walked with her to the hone in which she lived. Kafnre they parted *ho murmured a few word* of something like apology for the freedom with which she had spoken u> him of hi* ambitions. " I know nobody who ha* more right to peak," he in, I. And then he added a few words rather hurriedly, as if afraid of being misunderstood. " Von knew my uncle ; you were always a good friend to me ami mine. J know no one to whom I would soonrr turn for help if I were in need." She thought there had never been sweater word. CHAPTKKXXXI1I. JACK DHrtiMoxi) srr.iKs. " I don't want any of the Malet* money !" fl uhed out Pnil, with an angry clenching of hrr little hand. Srbaslian had been and gone. Mr. Wyatt wa* mumbling incoherently to himself. Mr. ilac-k Drnmmond wa* sitting on a lofa, while Miss I'hillis stood erect in the mid- dle of th* room and delivered her soul in word* of remarkable energy. Why due* he come here to patronize and insult us? Ha nsver thought of us nniil K<tnT Oenison talked about our forth-.umniei. Ksther heard I hat they were poverty. Why didn't .he hold her tongue' going to leave hngland again in ihe course We don't want his help." ..f a very shorl time, but she hoped that a I think you misunderstand the matter ^ould flnd Sebastian before he Phil," siid .lack. ' Oh, no doubt, everything that I do is wrong," cried Phillis defiantly. " I wish people would leave me to myself I" Tacit answered by getting up and feeling about for his hat. Ha was still very help- less ; one rye was completely covered, and the other protected by a hade. When Philli. saw him hunting for something, she came to hi* lide and asked, iu a softer tone, what he wanted. "My hat and stick." ' What for;? You omi>t-> tea." " If you wish poople to leave you to yourself, hadn't I belter go " If you like," .Kid Phillis as proudly as \ ou need have no more anxiety about ever ; but br movement had hroug'U her your Iriend Mhe will be provided for t,, her lover's side, and he suddenly put hi* henceforward. mrln roun ,| ner anil nel(1 h , r ,, " She and her father are the cousin* of " I don't like.' 1 wa* only trying to whom you one* spoke to me ?" t-aaa vou. mv I'hil" letter went. Some day* elapsed, and no answer came. Hut on* evening, on her way to a little railway station on the river bank, she saw a man's figure advancing toward her, and recognized with surprise that it wa* Sebas- tian himself. He had come to aniwer her letter in perxm. " I have come to answer your letter," he said, after the first words of greeting had been exchanged. ' These Wyatt* that you speak of lell me about them. They are your friends?" 11 I'hillis is my friend." And then Kither told him Phil's story, whuin you onc *pok " Yes. .My uncle left money in trim for them. He would not leave it to Henry Wyatt himself because he knew Ilia man's habits. I', will probably he safe enough in Mis* Wyatl'* bands." "You must be glad," she laid, "that you are able to insure her happinet*. "I am glad that justice will be done," be ancwered, without enthui:a in. In hi* next word) h* ohaug*J tb**ulijecb lease you, my I'hiL " Kaiher is there," Philli* whispnre 1 in a w.irning voice, ither' may be there a hr.ndred time* over, liir I don't mean to Int him control my linhavMr. my dear. Aren't you going to It down- U'l'ilfl me, ami tell me that you are glad that I have come ? " I'renently." " Why not now ' Phil, you are in a bad hun.-T i we must have it out. What * di* bad-tempered wretsh, whom nobody can bear ' Phillis, you know that I love you,' murmured Jack. " And now now whin it i* all too late, they come snd offer u* money," ihe wen on vehemently, a* if ihe did not hear "And I hate them ; 1 hate them all, and 1 will have none of their money." "Look here, Pnil," he isid, when the. eirl was quieter, I'm going to speak out. It's no use mincing matters, especially *ith you. You woul.l like me none the belter for it in the end. " " I know you're going to ny something disagreeable," ..id Pail. " Go on, get it over. "' " Well, to begin with, it is no use for you to talk about the Maleta' bounty and patrou- age, a* if Uiy erejre going tn give yon what was not your o*u Did you nol hear Mr Malet say that his uncle had left him in strut-lions in a latter to pay a certain sum or poriion o! it, at his discretion, to hi* cousin Henry Wyalt, when Henry Wyatt could be found ? That letter of initrnction i* morally, if not legally, binding on Mr. Malet. I dare .ay that it'* legally binding too, but thtt does not matter ; it binds Mr. Malet as a u-an ot honor, to pay your father the money, and you haven'l ihe (lightest right to object. Ai.d to tslk of charity in connection with it is pure folly, Phil, and you know that it is." He noted the thrill that came in her voice as she laid : I know at any rate that t can refuse to have anything to do with the Malets' money. "You make it hard for m, Phil," said Jack ; "because you put me into the posi- tion of urging vu to take money as if it were for my own sake ; and you know very well that I don't care whether you have a penny or not. It i. chiefly fur your lather s aake that I want to. peak. You pride yon- aelf on having delayed that letter to Sir Roland Malet, and hurrying your father away so that he should not receive an answer. You know very well that you ought not to have done that. You know as wells. I do that cheating i. a sin ; and yet you are proud of of a iriak, which comes pretty nearly to cheating, if not quite cheating your father of what was his " I'hil gasped. Nobody had ever spoken to her in ihis tone before. " It's a hard word to say ; is it not, I'hil ? Hut you know how 1 love you, and I love you none the leis, my dear, because you are human enough to do wrong sometimes, as I do myself, and as we all do. I'm speaking bluntly and plainly, for I can't do any thing else ; but I srant you to know th.it my love i* far too deep to be distnrbsd, even when I tell you that I think yon have been wrong. Your mistake*. Phil dear, are only the mistake* nf a very noble, generous nature in hard and cruel (trait*. I should nol be worth having if I abut my eye* and said th it your mistakes were noble deeds in themselves, or that you were perfect and could do no wrong." 'You certainly never aaid that," said Phillis with a hard little laugh. ' I doc't intend to," was Jack's calm response. " Bui see, Phil ; you say that the Malets ought nut to have let your mother and your grandparents suffer. Why mv dear girl, you have let your father suf- fer all these years, when yon knew wiry well that the Maleta would have helped him if thi-y had heard " 1 did not know," said I'hil. " I never heard that Sir Roland had answered the letter till to-day. Hut you had had some idea of what Sir Koland wa* like t You knvr what at any rale your father thought that he would do ? Come, be honaat, Phil. Didn't you really think that he would answer your father's letter ? Why else did you hurry him away from Manchester ?" What I thought does not matter mu.-h, U..I 1'hilli. contemptuously, " Yes, it does. If you thought so, I' you believed thai Xir Roland would sen i your fsther help, you :ricke,lhim kn eoalled to discretion, slipped off into the next room, and Phihs was left alone with Tack. She looked at him now. He presented rather pathetic figure as he stood with ne hand on the little center- table, hu boulders were more bowed that they used to e, the shade over his eyes showing that i. sight was defective, the line* of hi* face betraying weakness and pain that might be past, but were not yet forgotten. A* she thought of these things the tears overflowed her eye*. She cams up to him quite limply, and put her arms round his neck. " I was wrong, I daresay," she said, and vou know best." " No, m, Philli*, I don't my darling." " Yes, you do. And whether you do or not, it is my business to think as you think, and to do what yon tell m*. I will never do or say anything that you do not liks, Jack; if I can helu it. You shall be my conscience, my king, my world. I have tried to manage everything a* I pleased : I'll try no longer. I m yours. Jack, body and soul. It is very lulls that I can do to make up for what you have lost ; bnt such as it is, you shall have it all.' " She laid her head on his breast, and sobbad herself into quietness. Her aortic a tion was complete. " I shall try to make yon happy, Phil, God helping me!" said Jack, a little unsteadi- ly. " Forgive me if I was narsh unkind unjust : - " Then, a* ihe put up her hand to itop his mouth, he caught it and pressed his lip first to the delicate fingers aud then to the girl's soft cheek. " Now," hs said, " I begin to feel that you are mine. Why should we wait, Phil ? How long will it take you to get ready? The doctors hive t ild me to go to Braemar next week. W hy should I not take my wife with me to Braemar?" Ho did. ( TO BE i-ONTI\fli.) T( " Weaslrrrul Thiti *. Tkry Weald *< resasillsh. Samuel Cabot, a manufacturing chemist of Boston, is interested in flying machines. At presen*. he is trying to discover the best form of aerial screw one which wil give the greatest push with the least amount of power. In an interview with a reporter of the Boston Traveler he said : " Two questions have bien frequently asked, which perhaps it will b* worth whiU to answer now, and as part of my reply will be in the form of a prophecy, this 'crtdo may be worth the trouble of preservation to compare with the developments of the future. What important service can flight in air serve? Masim, Langley and all who have studied the subject thoroughly, agree that the speed of aeriatioc will greatly *x ceed that of any terrestrial locomotion. From thi* follow* an entire economic changn iu the direction of rendering im- mense tract* of comparatively worthies* territory at distance* of twenty to forty miles from cities much more available. ensrkable alllaaee Belwsea s>esjs a a row. The following from "Rod Random," Winnipeg, appears iu Sports Afield : "A remarkable case of bovine and eanine affection has existed in Winnipeg, for some time. A litter of Irish setter puppies was raised m a barn in the next stall to that occupied by a cow. When the pup* "ere big enough two of them, much to the alarm of Mr. A., their owner, persisted 'in pay- ing frequent visits to their bij, neighbor. The cow, however, was by no means inclined to be hostile, and received the visits of their pupships with pleasure. It always took good care not to step or lie on them, and when about to make a move would look very carefully around th* stall. When lying down the pups would play hide- and-seek around her and she joined in the fun by poking them with her siose. Mr. A. became very muoh interested in the case and when ho let the cow out to pasture in t 1 -- ipring he also turned the whole litter loose to run aroun.t the premises. The twa dogs" sought out their big friend and the mutual attraction grew to such a degree that they followed her constantly. When*he would lie dowu in the field* the logs took up their position beside her and dozed while .ne dozed. "At last, however, on* of the pups began to tire of thi. way of .pending iu time and Became less attentive, before long leaving t* brotner in undisputed possession of it* tovine friend's affections. Tlieas were now avished on the remaining setter in an imazing degree, and the cow would never et it out of her sight. When another dog attacked her friend she would give chase and the attacking party, astonished with such reinforcements, would generally with- draw, no doubt wondering at the great ad- vancement made in the science of modern warfare. Nor did she confine her attacks to the vagrant canines. Ths mischievous small boy who delights in pestering dogs of all sorts and sizes, providing ulways that the said dogs will run away, cme in for a share of the cow's displeasure, and many time* have I seen her in full chase after a refractory youngster with her setter friend, now as brave as a lion, having unbounded confidence in the pommeling abilities of her bovine majesty, leading the way, all the while executing a sort of war dance like an Indian chief marshaling his forces on to sura victory. Such a scene would undoubtedly strike terror into the heart of the victim a* it did to mine one morning when I wanted to prove the statements made to me by variou* friendoabout this strange attachment. " Mow I got over that fence I will never be able to tell. For a time, at all events, I did not share the dog's affections for the cow, but .he seemed most solicitous to form a close acquaintance with me. "The cow has been sold and for some time the dog missed and visibly mourned its friend, but soon took up with the horse and transferred its affections to it where they now rest. The oddest of it is that the other dog, who formerly hsd such a great attraction for the cow, is now at one with its brother on the met its of the horse and the three are seldom separated." There would also result the relegating of city property in laige measure to bu.iness id storage purposes. This would to large extent accomplish what Henry lieorge sighs for, but would do it by means which do not involve any wrong to the land own- er by the wage-earner. " With flying navies, capable of carrying iseen at night large quantities of si- jlosives to th* center of a city, war would Mcome *o destructive that it would be soon lupplanled by aibilration as a mat- ter of common sense and self-preservation. "Arbitration onoe established, an inter- national police syitem, controlling nations as we do individual*, and enforcing the decrees of boards of arbitration, would be enormously assisted by this po<ver of rapid and, if neoessary, des-.ructive pitro'.lmg. " Immense areas of country, now wsll nigh impenetrable, would he opened to use- 'ulness. Large sources of wealth would .bus be added to the civilized world, and vonld result in the amelioration of the con- dition nf the savage* of such regions as central Africa. "We should have to give up selfish legis- ation and restriction upon the commerce f othnr nation*, and be obliged perforce to Hand on a broader heritage than that of ation or of zone.' " The farmer, and cowhoy. f Lemur, CoL, rathered together aud killed 2,OM) jack rab iu, which they sent to Denver as a gift to 'ihe hungry unemployed there. Lying about the weather will not be so easy hereafter a* it has been in the past. vims ingenioiu person has iuvsnted a self- recording thermometer, which make* a mechanical record every day of the extreme eighth and depth of ihe thermometer iu the vnirae of each twenty-four hour*. > Knew w hra Ik* Bad ef the Ceav (rv Will CeaaeT The yai IM> will not be a leap year sum- ply because, being a hundredth year, al- though it i* divisible by 4, it i. not divisible by UK) without a remainder. This u not the real reason, bnt a result of it the real reason being the establishment cf th* Gre- gorian rule, made in 1582. The nineteenth century will not end till midnight of Monday, Dec. 31, IAJO, al- though the old quarrel will probably again be renewed as to what constitutes aooniury and when it winds up, and thousands will insist on a premature burial of the century at midnight of Dec. 31, 1S99. But, as a century means 100 years, and as the first century could not end till a full 160 years has passed, nor the second tillSK) ysars had passed, etc. , it is Lot logically clear why the nineteenth century inould be curtailed and broken off before we havo had the tull I'.KHI years. The 1st of April and 1st of July in any year and in leap year the 1st ot January fall on the same day of the week. The 1st of September and 1st of Decem- ber in any year fall on the same week day. Tn 1st of January and th* lit of October in any year fall on the same week day, except it be a leap year. The 1st of February, of March, and of November of any year tall on the same day of the week unless It be a leap year, when Jan. I, April I, and July I fall on the same week day. The 1st of May, 1st of June, and 1st of August in any year never fall on the same week day, nor does any one of the three ever fall on the same week d ly on which any other month in the same year begins, except in leap year, when the Ut of February and the 1st of August fall on the ame week day. To find out what day of the week any date of this oentury fell : Divide the year by 4 and let the remainder go. A. Id the quotient and the year together, then add three more. Divide the result by 7, and if the remainder i* U March 1 of that ye ar . wa* Sunday ; If 1, Monday ; if -', Tuesday ; and so on. For the last century do the same thing, but add 4 instead of .X For the next cen tuy add > instead. It is need less to go be yond the next century, because its survivor* will probably have some shorter method, MI I tin.! out h/ simply touchimg a knob or letting a knob touch them. Christmas of any year always falls on the same day of the week at the 2d of January of that year uuleu it bs leap year, when it is the same week djy as the 3d day of Janu- ary of that year. Kaster is always the first Sunday after the full moon that happens on or nex t after March -I . It is not easy to see how U can occur earlier than March 22 or later than April -_1i in any year. New Year (Jan. I ) will happen Sunday but once more during this century ; tha will he in I S'.Kl. In the next century it wil occur fourteen times only, as follows: 1900, 1911, l-.>-2. 19.-5. I9:i1, 19A9, 19".0. 1958. 1981, 1967, 1978, 1!U, wa, and 199j. The intervals are regular (i 5o-l 1, 6-5611 except the interval which includes the hun- dredth year that is not a cantury, when there is a break a. 1S93, 1899, 19DJ. 1911, when three intervals of six yean come to- gether; after that plain sailing till '2001, when the old intervals will occur in regular order.