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 |g:«il4mi«i l4!!p|^**Mli,'SJi^~'"F'^="i5?y?^" wasf • m- jiisr.sB»SKP^a»sKa«'^.-^?'.!?l-'!L- i^^fSw' •ij-j-jr-'SK"' r.igseiEas«w53^*i^-' i^saK "'MJK'Sij-'.a •- BEIDGErS STOEY. Wel' miM, you see the trouble is, EUen geta a bil religions now an' then, an' sperds more time prayin' than may be the Lord re- qnires of a woman as 'as a big family to see to. She's a nice woman tho*. an' 'as a gowi 'ead to 'er, steadier nor 'er 'usband's. 'E's stylish- like, an' e 'd be pleased if she'd go with finer sort o' company nor she do. She just laughs at 'im, an' says, " Oh, bah, John, you'll never catch me a-runnin' after my betters. Them as was good enough for us when we was yoong is good enough now we is old." " 'E'd like me," says she, " to be dressed n satin from Monday to Saturday, let alone Sunday an' 'ow would the waahin' an' the bakin' fare then " I think mysel' Ellen had tJie rights of :t. She's just a common, nice body, an' what 'ould be the use o' 'er trickin' 'ersel' out like a gran' leddy It's only people in thi« conn- try as try to make themeel's look yoong, an' finer nor their condition. I think it's ridic'lous for owld w»men to fix themsel'a out like yoong ^venches. 1 like to see the quality drew up, but it's not allays the gran' est as go the gayest. I remember, in Eng- land, the first time the Queen coom to Chatsworth after she was married. The Duke 'ad an eye on the Queen when she was yoong, an' she coom there an' for five or six weeks before, all the gentry was givln' the owld women round about new petticoats an' new shoes, so 's they should look nice for the Queen to see. I 'ad a sister in service at Chatsworth, an' so we went over there from where we lived in Lancashire, I 'm Irish born, you know, but we'd lived in Lancashire iince I wur a little child, an' folks say as I spake nayther like the Irish nor the English. I'm just 'alf an' 'alf, a kind of a mixed creatur' at best. I know the Lancashire di-log, but I don't spake it often my father never liked to hear it in the 'ouse, for he wur an educate^l man. Well, we took a spring cart an' drove to Chats- worth, the night before the Queen coom, an' we lodged in a public 'ouse, the whole on us in onep'oom, all but my father, as 'ad a friend in the town, an owld man, who took 'im 'ome to 'is 'ouse. The next day we went to the park, an' they ranged us along to see the eight, with the smaller children in front. An' when the Queen coom, why, she 'ad on just a black silk gown, with never a flounce nor a tuck on it, â€" not so much as a tuck. She wore mud boots, too, laced up at tho side, an' 'er 'air brought down on 'er forehead, an' then brushed back plain, an' twisted behind 'er 'ead not a fashionable knob, nayther, â€" no- thing but a little twist. She coora along, an' behind was the nurse with the Queen's child, carryin' it out so in 'er arms an' the Queen spoke to the woman, an' she coom close to where we was stan'in' so's I put out my 'and an' touched the child's dress, as was long, an' soft, an' white. She 'eld it down so's we could all see it, an' then another maid took it an' carried it off to show to the people in another part o' the park. Then two men took the gran' cushions out o' the Queen's carnage, an' lifted all the lads an' wenclu- into the carriage. Eh, but they throwed themsel's back an' sat down, afore they were lifted out the other side. They went streamin' in an' out, an' I was among 'em, I have sat in the Queen's carriage Aw well, â€" it's a long road from the Queen at Chatsworth to Ellen McKiernan an' 'er man up 'ere, but now my lines are cast among such as the McKiernans. Mr. McKiernan is a bit yoonger nor she, an' 'e 's like a man yoonger nor 'e is, an' that, I think, 'elps to make a little trouble be- tween 'em, off an' on. Then Tom, the eldest boy, is 'is father's idol but when the lad took to bad ways, drinkin' idlin' nights, an' gamblin' Ellen did not like it, an' fussed about it, while the father, as ought to ha' known better, said, â€" " Whisht, let the lad alone. Yoonfr men must 'ave their fling. I was just like 'im at 'is age." "The more shame to you " cried Ellen, "for tellin' on it afore the childer, an' spakin' light o' the laws of God 'n' man." So she turned to Tom, an' says she, ' 'Tom, I worked in the mill day-times, an' I work- ed in the 'ouse nights, when I was the mother of seven small childer an" you, as 'as nothin' but a man's part to do in this world, 'ill never know 'ow 'ard a woman's lot can be. I never shirked my work, for I wanted to give you schoolin' an' 'ave you larn a good trade. I kept yon at school till you was fourteen, when all yer mates went in the mill at twelve year old, an' yoonger an' now you're twentj-, you've lamed the machinist's trade, you can do for yersel' an' 1 won't put i^p with your coomin' 'ome late nights, makin' a row, bringin' drink an' bad company in the 'ouse, an' tachin bad ways to your brothers an' sisters. If you cannot coom peaceable, an' in due season, you must go somewheres else to board." She spofce up pretty fierce, but she had n't no mere thought the lad 'ould go away nor she 'ad that the man in the moon 'ould coom down to live wid her. But the father said as if the boy went 'e 'd go too an' then she wur mad, an' says she, â€" " Ye 'd better be off wid ye, John Mc- Kiernan, than stoppin' at 'ome, uphowldin' the boy in bad ways. A man o' your age Ye 'd better be on your knees a-sayin' your prayers." Then the father an' son marched off, 'oldin' up their 'eads like soldiers an' they both stopped out late that night, an' coom 'ome a-roarin' an' singin' Jolm McKiernan is quite a pote 'e muakes little rhymes, an' puts the words in their places so 's the verses coom out right an' when 'e coom into the kitchen, a-racketin' an' a-knockia' over the chairs in the dark, 'e was singin' away verses about Ellen 'ersel' as 'e 'd made up. She 'card 'im, but she spake never a word, only bolted 'er bedroom door fast While 'e begins to sing. When I was a Bache- lor, an owld Irish song, as I 'ave 'eard my father sing when I was a bit of a girl. There's not manny folk as know it now. I can say it in Irish an' English both. 'E shouted out in the dead o' night, the most aggeravatin' of all the verses â€" " I fancied the mopsey. Her fortune 'as deceived me. It makes me cry an' often sigh. The shirt I cannot wear it. " When I rise in the morning, I go to my labor, I never do coom 'ome. Till duakes coomes on fairly. " I find me cabin dirty, â-²n' me bed, it 's in bad order. Me wife ifl cabin hearing, An'mobaby "IwayB bawlln That was n't a pleemn' song f or EUm to 'ear, an' it wnr n't tme, nayther wr ane a not a mopaey, but a clem, decent body, a* keeps a m^ 'onfle. an' does n't mn ronnd to the neighbors no^ more 'n is reasonable for a live woman, as does n't expectto wrap 'ersel' up in a sheet, an' keep as distant from fol6« as a ghost. When 'e 'ad finished the verses, an was just beginnin' again When I was a Bachelor, McKiernan tries the bedroom door, an trnds it locked on 'im. So then 'e swears, an Ellen spates for the first time, an calls through the key-hole, â€" •• I've got the childer in 'ere, an I â-¼Â« spent the night a-prayin' for you. You an Tom may go np to the attic an' my cpuneel is for yon to get en yer knees yersel Then tho-e was more row, an at the lut Mr. McKiernan an' 'is son both posted off; an' the Lord knows where they passed the ^\n the momin' the father coom an' fetched Ss clothes an' the lad's, aa' they both took board together nigh to the mill, where Mr. McKiernan is a spinner. Ellen took it pretty lofty at first. "It 's well they 're away, said she.^ "The owld man was daft about the lad, an^ 111 not deny 'e 's a 'andsome, well-lookin boy but if there 'd 'a' been a robbery or a murder in the street, an' Tom 'ad been ar- rested on us, we could not have accounted for 'im, for 'alf the time we did not know where 'e was. As f^r the man, we 've lived together two an' twenty year, an' now, if 'e 's minded to go away, I'll niver go after Im, nor ask 'im to coom back,â€" no, not so much as walk by Mrs. Flinn's 'ouse, where 'e boards. I counseled 'im in good ways, an' the ways o' the church, an I'll not make any lamentation because aiUv 'ead • so' at lart it coom mt ttiat when 'ffl 'S^'^JS Bome.wM gone '• '»dqmt "I only 'ear about 'im on the •weet.^r-my eldest bom T I worth 'hearin' nor est't meowin'i aa I 3 gone. It's every day such things 'appen, a man leaves "is woman. L^ttin' alone is the best treat- ment for 'em." For all 'er talk, I often seed 'er eyes was red, an' she went to church steadier 'n ever, an' she 'ad the childer an' 'ersel' a prayin' a good bit o' the time. There was another in trouble, too, an' that was little Rosie Roberts, a pretty girl, with yellow 'air as looks like a dandelion. She'd set 'er 'eart on Tom McKiernan, but 'er folks was always agin it. They was pretty igh- toned people. The mother kep' a store, an' the lather was on the train. They looked "igh for Rosie, an' the mother watched 'er like a cat. They was Protestants too, an' the difference of religion made troubles both sides. For my part, I think aa we all wor- ships the same' God, â€" still, I confess as what he 'as ordained he 'as ordained, an' it '11 Stan' forever an' them as does n't go to mass misses a blessing, sure, as they might 'ave for the mass is a holy thing as 'ull do anybody good, an' not Catholics alone. I 'm not goin' to say as it 'a well for Pro- testants an' Catholics to wed, but I always liked Eosie, an' when I see 'ow 'er 'eart was set on Tom, I was such a great fool aa I thought the religion 'ould not make ao much 'arm, for she wur not one to argue, an' I wished Tom 'ould behave himsel' an' marry 'er, an' be a good man to 'er, for I does like to see young folks 'appy. But, oh, when Tom was out o' 'is mother's eye, it seemed as if 'e would go to the devil straight, for Mr^ McKiernan could no more manage tho lad nor a three-year old child could fly a six-foot kite. The boy went from bad to worse, an' Mr. Roberts forbade 'im the 'ouse entirely, an' Rosie's eyes was redder 'n Ellen's. I coomed by Mr. Roberts' one night, an' I seed Rosie hangin' over the gate, talkin' with Tom, outside. There was a bright moon, an' I seed the sad look was gone from 'er bonny face, which was all dimplea an' smiles. But as I was a-staring at 'er, out coom ^Ir. Roberts, like a turkey gobbler rushin' at a red flag, an' dragged Rosie in, awearizT as she should not go to shame right out of 'er father's door. Tom started after, but Rosie cried out for 'im to go away an' Missis Roberts an' a lot more women coom out, a-,talkin' and yellin' an' they got the girl, in, an' shut the door, an' left Tom out- t ide fightin' wid Rosie's brother. I coom away then, for I spied the police- man a-coomin' up the street an' that's a sight as 'as a won'erful power to put a stop to an old woman's curiosity. I went into Missis Roberts's store the next day, an' Rosie was there, with 'er little sister in 'er lap, â€" a baby as is fretful, an' always wants summun to be settin' under 'er. Rosie looked very pale, but 'er mother looked black. The super of the Sunday- school was there, a sayin' â€" "Missis Roberts, I'm very sorry as Eosie should ha' set gossip goin' about 'er." Then Missis Roberts rose up to 'er feet an' flung out 'er 'and at the girl, an says, "There, E,osie do ye 'ear that? Perhaps you'll mind what your mother says after this, an' not wait till the stones in the streets is a hollain' out my very words, an' cryin' shame on ye." " Oh," said the super, tryin' then to quiet the mother down, " I've no manner o' doubt Rosie '11 be a good girl after this." 'E spoke to the baby, an' 'e said as 'e 'd like to buy some tape, an' so 'e got away but Rosie said never a word to 'im, only grew whiter 'n' whiter, an' let 'er 'ands fall down at 'er side, so 's the baby 'ad to 'old 'er own little back up. While the super was buyin' the tape, I said to Rosie, â€" "'Ad you been walkin' with Tom, last night " " Yes," she said " we 'd walked from the grocer's. I only met 'im by chance." "But you like 'im," said I, "an' "e 'a a wild lad." I' We never 'ad no love talk," said she an' then, in a minate more, she spoke again- " ni never stay 'ere to be talked about." Then the mother coom back to us, an' I went out o' the store. Sure enough, tlje girl runbed away, bsd} then there waa more talk than ever about 'er. Ellen qpom out in the middle of the day to tell me,' though she waa dai;i' a bleach,; an' 'ad not so much as a shawl about 'er. bhe d just run out in 'er figger. She cried an said as 'ow Tom was good enough for any girl m the place an' one minute she vowed e was too good for a girl as 'ould do such a shameful thmg as run away from 'ome, an' next she d say that Rosie waa a aweet in- nocent thmg, an' she 'oped she'd see 'er Toms wife yet, an' it was only people's gom' back an' forth an' tellin' thin^'ad ever made any trouble. She waa just dis- traught, an she said whatever coom into 'er ^dened a bit, an' 'is mouth trembled like ^S," said I, •• what's the nse of .fine lad like you goin' to the bad, when e m^ht just ueaBj goto the good, an make is friends all 'appy " .. .^iA th« "It'snot^iany friends I 'a^ swd the young fellow. 'You know, Bridget, Id never 'a' done 'arm to Rosie bat she rnns away, when she 'ears 'er name .menUoned with mine, as if I was the plague. " Oh," said I. " you think you d never a done 'er 'arm but it's little lads know what they'U coom to do as keeps bad compapv, an' takes no counsel but their own wild wishes. She mnaed to save 'ersel .-» J|^ little body I Go after 'er, Tom. bring er 'ome to be your mother's daughter, an make up your mind once for all to be a decent, steady maa." ^, I don't know what got into me to speak them words, but when 'e 'eared me, first e grew white, an' then 'e grew red. " You're a wise woman, too," said he, an' •e walked away, an' the next day they telled me 'e 'ad gone from the town. The Robertses soon 'eared from Rosie, ow she 'ad got a good place with a rich family in Fall River so they thought it best to leave 'er there. But where Tom was we did not know. Well, Ellen took it 'ard, an' she seemed to feel the father's bein' away more, now Tom was clean gone an' yet the man did not coom back. She'd stan' at 'er door at night, an' strain 'er eyes lockin' towards the mill, where McKiernan worked, but she never see 'iui coomin' towards 'er. Eh, but women is queer crcatur's, cryin' an' snoldin' an' iputterin' yet lovin' all the while. She fell sick, bein' so worried, an' one night I stayed wid 'er. I was dozin' in the kitchen, when I 'eared a great crash I runned into the other room, an' there Ellen lay on the floor, wid 'er eyes wide starin' open, an' 'er limbs stretched out on the boards, an' in one 'and she 'ad a lock o' 'er own 'air, as she'd pulled out. "Oh," cried I, " 'ow long 'ave you been there " 'Whisht, whisht!" says she. "Do ye 'ear the music " " Music " says I. "Are ye mad "Oh," says she, "it's gran' music; an' do ye see the fine yoong ladies as is makin' it There they ia, all stan'in' round against the wall. Look at e'm, dressed in white, an' with bells on their fingers 1 She waa so wild, I was scared, an' I hu- mored 'er a bit, an' I said aa I 'eared 'em an' seed 'em, an' coaxed 'er the while back to bed. She laid 'er 'ead down on the pillow, an' fetched a great sigh. "Ah," saya ahe, "they're just vanishin' vanishin' an' the music 's a-fadin' away, " Then she wrung 'er 'ands an' fell a-cryin' an' I 'ad plenty c' work that night to do, carin' for 'er. But she mended fearful 'at after, an' in a day or two ahe was quite well. Then ahe went to the prieat, an' telled 'im 'er trouble 'ow Mr. McKiernan 'ad been a very good 'naband an' very agreeable to 'er for twenty-two years, an' 'ow 'ard ahe thought it aa 'e should leave 'er now an' she towld 'im all about Tom, too. Father Kent treated 'er very kind, an' says 'e "I cannot 'elp ye about Tom. Yoong men will 'ave their fling an' any way, 'e 's beyond my reach. Ye can do nought but pray for 'im, aa waa ' always a mother'a work, from the time of the Blesaed Virgin. Aa for your'usband, I'll see to 'im." Ellen coomed 'ome wid a lighter 'eart, an' waited, wid 'er little ones around 'er, for the coomin' o' the man. Father Kent went twice to the mill to see Mr. McKiernan, an' the second time the man got mad, an' spake up saucy, an' said queer things to the priest. "I don't doubt. Father Kent," says 'e, "aa you're a scholardan' a gentleman, an' I knows you're a priest, but you needn't coom meddlin' with me.' Then Father Kent stamped 'is foot, an' says 'he, "You 've 'eared what I 'ad to say, Mc- Kiernan. Go ye 'ome to your wife, an' don't force me to coom again about this business." An' that night Mr. McKiernan went 'ome, Ellen telled me all about it. She vrar stan'in' at the table cuttin' out a dresa for a neighbor for ahe'a very handy at such things, an' willin' to do little jobs o' that sort for anybody. It was about nine in the evenin' an' as she stood with her back to the door in stalked Mr: McKiernan, lookin' as sour as a boy as 'as been licked. Ellen's 'eart gave a jump, but she never said nothin' nor turned round, only caught a side glance of 'im as 'e went past 'er. 'E sat down in a chair, an' 'e kicked off first one shoe, an' then another an' all the while 'er acisaors wur goin' faster than ever. When 'e 'd sat still about five minutes, up 'e got, an' stamned away to 'is room. Then Ellen turned an threw up 'er arms wid a great swoop, an' says she, 'alt aloud,â€" "Lord save us, see the ghost " An' the httle childer began to titter at that. "Shut up," says she, "laughin' at your dad," " But Uttle Peter, ha giggled on, an' the father growled from the other room ;bo El- len caught np the boy, an' rocked 'im, an' humed Im, an' got 'im quiet. Hhewas «At glad er 'niband 'ad coom 'oma, I thidk: she. did not care 'ow mad an' glwn '« afited. When Mr. McKiernan came out for 'la te^akfast, the next momin' Ellen flew « the table, an' began movin' some dishes;! ' • "I'll clear off Peter's things," sajd â- )!« '(Oh," said Mr, McKiernan, "ye like to ,W» yersel' talk;*' an; 'e shoveled in 'is naeat, an' said no more, till she asked 'im timid like, should she send 'isdinnef to the '5 Are n't ye the housekeeper " says 'e sharp_ again. "YeKke to 'ear yersel' talk;" EUen off '« Went to 'is work. That afternoon, I was goin* by, an' called me to coon? in. j "I must go 'ome aa' feed my cat." said I She laughed. "B^t wi' /er cat ^nLya she. ;i hunted 'erdffo'tn/ohickehslhS other day. Coom in; it's snmmat better tnimy Bi^iUche, a miimckin' aU Mr. Mc- nLi'a gnn' waya •»' •oxu looks. But £e^J5in 'er iughin' «i' cried a bit. ""^•m the wretehedest mother in the town,»«ysshe; "«*' ^^^^.^ K«°* ~y « could not 'elp me about Torn. So wantin^ to cheer 'er, I says,â€" ••Mr. McKiernan only "hows is good gense in coomin' 'ome. ffllen. There's not Twoman I knows aa keeps as cheerful a "It°ould not ha' been cheerful long, says she, "if 'e 'ad not coom. for I'm near oat o money." "Well, 'e M coom, you must keep 'im. 'im for 'is dinner?" "Beefsteak," says she, oatchin up little Fetor, as 'ad been oallin' at 'er knee, an suckin' at a lump o sugar. •That 's right," says L "Now yon must ha' summat good for 'is supper." she. "What do yo think says L Wliat did ••And now you send "Yes," says on 1" 'old of till 'e almost "I'll be bound Send Katie They'll be " Scollops," says L •'What's them?" says she, takm Peter's 'ands, an' swingin* 'im down to the floor, an' then bringin' 'im np again on er knees, and 'e a-laughin' choked. "A kind o' fish," says L Mr. McKiernan 'ull like 'em. down to the market for 'em about thirty cents a quart." So she said she would, an' I seed the felt quite 'appy, so I picked up my shawl an the pail 6f milk I was takin' 'ome, an* trudg- ed on to my cellar an* my cat The next day was Sunday, an' as I was coomin' 'ome from church, when I got op- posite Mr. McKieman's 'ouse, Ellen, as waa atan'in' ia the door, not 'avin' took off 'er bonnet, called to me. "Just stop to dinner, Bridget!" says she. "Nay, nay," says I. " A family likes to 'ave ite Sunday dinner to theirsel'a." Her face clouded, but Mr. McKiernan, as waa amokin' in the yard, says, â€" "Coom in, Bridget; there's always a seat fur you at my teble." so seein' 'im so cordial, I went in an' El- len, I thought, was glad not to.be left much alone wid 'im. I sat there till about three, when e marches up to 'is wife an* speaks very pleasant, an' says, "Just make me a cup o' tea, Ellen " an* up she jumps, with amiles all over 'er face, to do it. Then I thought they was gettin' friendly, an' I coomed away. But she bade me to coom in the very next night, for ahe said she 'ad to ask 'im for money, an' ahe felt she 'd be bolder to do it if I was by. So Monday evening I was there before duskes. They was always a family as provided well, the v.ay I like to see folks do, â€" 'alf a barrel o' floor, an' 'alf a keg o' butter, an' a whole ham at a time but while Mr. McKicruan was off. Ellen 'ad been put to it to keep things up, an' 'ad run low in every way. After we 'ad 'ad a good supper, she picked up Jimmy, one o' the little boys an while Peter hung on 'er knees, she poked 'er fingers careless-like into the 'oles in Jimmy's shoes, till 'e squealed oat as she tickled 'im, an' says he, â€" " Mammy, I want some new shoes." "Eh," says I " let 's see the shoes ye got on." Then tho little fellow twisted round in mother's lap, an' stuck out 'is two feet me. " They're awful bad," says the boy. An' Mr. McKiernan spoke up from the table, where 'e sat readin' an owld paper "Why don't you get 'im some shoes, Ellen?" 'E spoke gently, an' Ellen laughed, an' says she, â€" " I never knew shoes to coom walkin' into a 'ouse without feet in em, or feet goin' after em. " An' money, too," says I. " Don't ye 'ave no paper, now ' says Mr. McKiernan, takin' no notice of what we 'd been a-sayin' "No," says Ellen. " There wa' n't nobody to read it, an' I stopped it. " •'Well," says 'e, risin' up, "111 go an' give an order for one to be left every night, after this." "That '11 be good," says Ellen, bent pleasin' 'im. "for I did miss earin talk about the news." Then she played some more with Jimmy's shoes an' says 'e apain, like a little parrot,â€" "Mammy, I want some shoes." "Ah," says the mother, "I'd giva you some quick, if I 'ad the money but fifty cents won't buy ye shoes, now you've erow- ed so big." Mr. McKiernan 'ad got on 'is coat by this time, an' says 's, in a lofty way, â€" "Give me your fifty cents, Ellen, an' I'll giva you a ten-dollar bill for it." Ye may be sure, she was n't no great time makm' that change an' 'e went oat o' the ouse, an' she clapped on 'er bonnet an' shawl an' started oflf 'ersel' for the shoes. They coomed back together, talkin' an' carrym parcels like a couple of young sweet- earte, an' I just laughed at 'em. As we all stood round, with the childer 'angin' on our legs, the door burst open, an' in coom Tom an Rosie. " Holloa I" cried Tom an* Ellen fotehed a screech, an' roshed at the lad as if she 'd smother im but Rosie stood apart, with a i^^^ wv ^y*" *°' ^^"^^^ °^ 'er cheek, till Tom left *u_ mother, an' took the girl's •and, an' said, like a man,â€" "^.^«^**ft«r 'er, an' one day. as she was "^- dishes, I coom softly into the me, an' she pned out, an' let the cup faU as th* missus to know what was the matter an I teUed 'em both together as I'd made up ^. T^?*^" ' *^ " •*• »^« believe UnS. J*** «;tc«re about me. till tlie misana Jaughed, an' bade 'er speak the troth an' tnen â€" •Now, Tom, you need n't say no more." said Boue an' Mr. McKiernan marched up iion' wif^* ^* ^^^ '^^=°'°- t» be my .. w^^' ^°* '^®'" *b»t iOready " criftd Tom. We was married a week ago." Everybody soroamad butEllen, who joct """'» er anns roqod the girl's neck an' er 'ard. L. C. Wtman. I should have tak«. ^3 livin' in M 7f • HgU 1 WihK,n. She was tl'*ti^4| I ever see. Everv tKi^CI well,ifitwantnSCT*59 If there was anythZ JJ^ «» JS it. She come over to S^^e* andwegotto8peakin?li»««i« calculatmg to wearthT*'" mer before. Shesaidif^^ a new one and asked oe^y*' one m Miss Evans' win/ "" "Idon'tknowVK*** that took my eve IZl '^^ •«. have it. ItblpSfS'" "It isa beautiful^;' med iy»th cream-colored ,K roses," said sh^ "t After she had gone T w atbunnit. Here L- ""^P" dof M mommg bound to h*ve tb/jW, as soon as I got my wort/ S. my things and staVSitW and sure enough, the firsttb?,' wmdow was tliat bnnnit tT.^^* tUlty., that was Wal. the 4t«0tL looked well it was a no mistake. It wasnrthc""" have ties, but an elastic cc, ai^d^there was long ends hS; Wkl, I paid "•••I i^oiu the air j„ii home with the bunnit. ** When John come ta'dinn., I waa a man goin" tu lecture tt; had been l«vm'monj-theIn2!' ed to go and hear him. I» be a good chance to wear my I said right off that 1 wanted^ wasn't long gom' m the U down the top of the buggy 5 The man had just got nnu went in the hall was abont fn went clear up front, and got 80^,, waa glad of it 'twas a go^cC my bunnit. I saw Miss WflT thing and thinks I tu myself I has got the prettiest bunnit thijl I saw folks looking a good dejl der smilin' and some on you washin' kitehen throwed hugged ever I right behind began to John looked around at me. j\oii took no notice of my clcttwhi tell calico from cashmere but he in at me, and I thought my bna very becomin' for John to tikt notice of it. Just then he whispered to me "For massy sake what did yon, without your buunit for?" I put my hand to my head, enough, my bunnit was gone. Ji of it, Matildy there I was, in tl of folks, right up in front, t. on, and that little horn comb bunnit on stickin' in my hair. you, I wished I could sink do»i the floor, I was so 'shamed I what to du. I never thought the bunnit, where it had gone I only wanted to git out of thit did. I don't know how J spunk to do it, but any thin' wa aittin' there and everybody lii John followed me out, anditiiu did, for I almost had a hysteric fe and I laughed. He tried to tali B tell me it wa'nt no matter, thstfolbl noticed it, but that only unit worae. Hadn't I seen them kigi I told him he must take me iioiit; got the buggy, and when I went if there wa'nt my bunnit lyin' ii the buggy. Y'ou see, when John let doini back, one of the long ends caught some way, and the drawn right off my head. Cometc it, the elastic cord hadn't been and had pulled off that was w slipped off so easy. I tell yon, pride had a fall. I never took i comfort wearin that bunnit, Bntt gooa lesson tu me. I gave up tryii' up with Miss Wilson. Wal, there, I cLJ'nt notice ho» gettin' I must hurry round w kittle onâ€" thought 1 would t^ cream toast for supper. Johniii hand for it. Unin.l ill Chinese and Japane* Ip a social sense, there is hardly difference between the lower ami whites in New York thanbetweei' and Japanese. The latter eiemo'i smali. The few Japanese in tie either connected with JapaoM" houses, with branches in New i' dents in colleges or the higher business mea, the Japanese i wide awake aa our smartest ow J' ers, and don't seem to lack even bial Yankee push. One of the K ness houses of this city is a lishment on Broadway, near Most of the Japanese en] can speak English nearly M own tongue. They are coted â- Â» ard a close attention to the wbo" the whims of customers, m*".. with them feel that they are They adapt themselves to the and business tone of their snn most as readily as if they we«" race. They all live weU,^«J formed very pleasant social ""nv know of one, the managerot** house, whose home is one ot «"« New York. He is a regular church, whither he was leij intelligent young woman, oej"' riage, and his household na toresting children, with only' their father's race in their apP Japanese go to theatres Mj^ times to other social resorts- ' summer. Tbeyi ter-plaoes in » .^aww zens^and identify themseK«^, mumty in general. In 8j»nr^ y^ are a valuable accession to i" their number were larger it better for the city. "«»' ,boatt tbeJ" filJt' years since the arrivi ^^ ese. including the i^°^'^. got an immense deal of pe""^! Yorkers a novel sensation. now here seem as mncn » had been with us from to" only since the war. Itis estimated that wire fence were made m last year. could git ahead of Mi« w "^W^Hhttt ynn opened anc half a dozen men I J? ant the front wmdc tkids to a waggon v «* The new craft la li«if antrathfuUy called r«wt shape of a dou K Ui«16feet 9 in •/duuneter. The s of boUer iron, the ^-sixteenths of an ii " strakes one-quarb fined with six rmgs of ftbe bow and stem a Ihlufeetlong, theonei PSde of lead and 'The rudder is hung )„ each aide of the ru, „tal rudder, or fin, tl Jp^e of a balance rude Ser. When the fo: iders are raised whi wvtuih the water they â- .rstern of the vessel a P'rmg it to dive und. l^ey we held in that Ttv compartments mad Jlled with water, tl below the aurface. F fc«boat»Ulbepropelle( Ehea in diameter, with 1 Ibeelwillbe turned by Holland completea a young jgtii^H joint' i» Mr. Holland's 1 The first was conip ng of it and his work _J " The first one was Eh the engines did not ated that a submarine -udled. We worked it ligh a hose from a steam â-  one I got from the Del 119, 1881. I took it t( (Tanderbilt Morris, at I I kept it ten months. teriments with it. I r the lower bay bene: 1 her into the mud f.. She always rebound [feet below the surfac I been down under water I half hours. That is m [id be necesaary in war r or fifteen minutes woul k\ the necessary distanci i to a vessel's keel. We [tUacould be done by t The papers had a g J they thought was a fail kmanand kept my seci H was conclusive evidenc at once decided that r-t to encourage servant p to the skirmishing func [not belong to any socie T to do so. I have gone on principles. When r iomplete and the value litermined, 1 will be lool J ionn a joint stock co treaaela.' ve you overbad any /engineer, M. L. Ric 1 dive under a tug nc I patting out into the I manhole open, and, ot i_Tl»e men on the tug pi â- 'lout. He waa unc When these vesst 1 before St art Jig ther a man must attend ttm down. If his h: • himself for a minute 'the surface." new boat waa taken tc " one ia. The expe: 'MPstMcGeihan'ashi ACaaadUa Natural ^igbt milea down t iKingaton, Ont, ai «om the stream, rises On the farm of D |. are three wella c ich have defied the inhabitant as to tl ers, only four 1 a ha^f in diameter, ?•* which the keenet *Ji Umes would scai ?to bottom they ar â- s the finest pol They always co '« pure water, which "^•s no surface- wat« The popular idea ""•geepoundeithe oftheholeaandth render tbat an i "Owe Kkely theory |*«»Bf vation on th !**?« ttdjacent, wh« «ia i«, however, o '*^ oondderably si tommi