'y^^iWWt^'fmif^^^^mW^v^g^ « â- â- •*~1K ^POSITION QmTT" •^â- ?1 Wood. X^ •nmanahip, U^^jS?-. it licaieg 4 Were e other department, j^,' U â€" n« MILTON, cI^JIda "^Mil ihe Ladles' coii--^ 1 163 in the full co^S^H^i^ 1 faculties in T:*.^r Hti^" UDIES* GOL « in ine full conr^T^' faculties in Lite^lJ* The largest Coll^nSi^ â- iry S FOR BUTTER. ETC. ihton Brands, in lanr.^ """ dianSalt. WriteT^prtS^ S PARK soiT lesale Produce Merehaita'T, ANYSTEArnUPi SPECIAL! RETI§- OT^e CelebntdJ cockWirato,.' ^Greshara'sAata Ke-stortinglnj, «»^.VIomgoa'iAnti ^htFeedLnbii ^» Engineen" t h ers- Supplie, tfi aescnption. " cin^ars. ToTTAdelaideSlI TOROHTO SPEcur. NonciJ have decided uih to put Dr. Jug's Xi^ in a brown jug, inste ?las8 bottle as beic The jugs that we «» for this puiTKNc an i of the finest iinpoitcili iDgham.ofamottlidli colour, with " Dr. Medicine for Lub^ j and Blood" in niae ters on the ride. reasons for iiukiii{l change are lst-lu| derful curative qn will be betterpreteii- the medicine beiifl entirely in the dark. 1 As the jug will be i ed it will be imp counterfeit it. • name" " Dr. Jug" ' '"'â- , cine" will be morti D». JOG-8 remembered by i "^^ tion. 4thâ€" Onr •ecosTiize at once that they in H ;icle, as there is no other me'" ' )R. JUG MEDICINE CO., Toronto and T '8 BlRTHIAl Btautiful Imported BirtM»lCii*J ly baby whose mother will BlV ?s of two or more other baM eiiM* Its' addresses Also a handiiiMJ 1 Dye Sample Card to th» 1 1 valuable information. RlcbardMB 4e C«q â- • L.JONES DD ENGRAVER 10 King S' East TORONTO. Bicyclf O END AT ONCE TOBJ J^ of Second-Hind M»f Fr.m «15 ipi^ New Catalogue Ready^l A. T. UHE m L S TICK DESTROy STOCKMEN, give this Y«lM*l paration a fair trial. **2J p re mpth a nd efTectnally m«^ Ticks and othtr '""'^^^'Sl.M a* in eradicating aUMW*"" J skin to which Sheep are »nbj«»1 rOc. and «1. A S5c "Bn WO^ bs. H UGH MILLKB Co.. f fine wwk. Mfrfcrf^Si LAI0C8T.«..TO«0»2i RUBBER STAIgl cils, and Bumi^^^f for Catalojrae. BA»»C- 37 Scott S*. p)yE' ^-gEm bMgH. unr of "Kate MAS9mr'« Faukhood," **Biatbicx-8 AumoH " " Fo» " LOVE OB KlNDKBD " " A GotDKS Db«am," 4a, c CHAPTER n. ;* was yet early morning, » â„¢-r twasMsembled about a taU fSP^Cvr between the angle of a '**'^nn ivy clad wall. On the "^nA a tall, elegant woman HiSta broken pUlar endea- \)tiM^=\ keep a torn and dirty ' ' Lt closed about her throat, and "^Llpflv gentleman who, attired " :w rifled dressing gown was .«'Ch»°d'i'"« out-at-elbow lads V kite out of the topmost bough, "nUr Ayoung girl of about six â- â- ^n\,e whose exquisite face and "*^ iwWr almost succeeded in ^tt that her gown was far from -i"fh'rVautiful abundant locks were â- ^rnluabrushed, sat on a broken "'^rnear laughiQg as only youth Sin at the etorts of her father and "*^i, lineaierk! Thereâ€" it's coming. thel"l«*J__.u„„ »v«r -•' said M?. " It k not my fanlt, air," said Gl earaertly "that piece ot injiUtioe wm A before I was bom." injnstioe waa MM " Tfaater than ever ling on his toes attempt to catch the tailot the kitoas jtuti. i----^ -^ j^.^ ^^gg ^^^ making fl? '"'"" from his carpet slippers as the fact that his bovle, sta: hither and thither m the air, his jescending :,\miOi exposing 'ion stockings sadly needed wash. r«nS.e;itll stay there ior ever Sst to aggravate us. I do be leve I, we are on our honour not to climb kr " muttered a lad about fourteen, ' of beautiful blue-gray eyes popi %*sun'w"ith'a sleeve so ragged that icoulJ be seen through it in several 111 climb up and get it in two minutes me-dolet me, Peter 1" cried let ' erboT pulling his father by the arm, â- and down until the old don't let Oh, I'm not blamint; yon, my boy and. after aU, I wonld not chimge wife and chfl^ ren fw the wealth he Ued and aphemed to get Ot what oae is it to him now, dyiaff with strangers and servants abont himTl hope Glynn yon won't prosecute me for downing' that row of oaks and living on them, as he threatened to doâ€" the osarpinff old skin-flint I" ^^ "Bnsh, £atherâ€" yon ought not to talk so n ow " said Hyacinth gravdy. ' • Oh, I'm not a womanâ€" I can't pretend to be sorry when I'm not I've been treated infamouslyâ€" my younger brother put in Ay placeâ€" this wretched handful of property left me, which I can't ring a hundred a yew out of, and have to pay a heavy rent for *°^ ,1*P *•* 'ep»"" and not touch the trees; and allâ€" all" â€"becoming extremely red in the face and giving a fantastic little wisk to the ragged skirt of his dressing-gown-.- " because I fell in love and married the very identical girl he wanted Well, as I said before, I have wife and children, and he has moneyâ€" Verschoyle and Shangannon â€" and of what use are they to him now T" " What are you talking about so earnest- ly What is the news, Glynn May I know? called out the lady who was leaning against the door-post. " My uncle is very illâ€" had a relapse I must start for Ireland at once. I want to be in Dublin by ten to-night," answered the young man. Mrs. Verscboyle came down the steps and sauntered towards him. " Indeed Poor Mark " she said. "Well I don't think he was very happy, after all. But you mustn't go without your breakfast you know; I'll hurry LU " and she folded her arms upon her broad bosom, sighed faintly, and ?azed at the ^air scene before herâ€" the woods, the meadow, the fields or -::ep. lunjpmg "P leman staggered. Vou will not, Pat Pe^er, called out the lady standing on the He'll fall and break his back if green wheat, and, beyond, the shining blue I of the river â€" in placid contentment. Ine kite won't come down unless some Mrs. Verschoyle had never been ijuilty of ,oesup after it," replied her husband hurrying herself or those about her, and "cidedly; "and it would be such a never would be and in this, far more than .uretothe lad." I in their straitened means, lay the secret of LfLthe kite stay then, and send one of 1 the disorder and discomfort that reigned in d Is in to get breakfast. I've lighted the her domain. B you may see," she said, holding ou^ Glynn, disturbed though he was by the of plump and well-shaped diriy bar^Hi necessity for his immediate departure, [cer iiusband's inspection. could not help smiling as he declined her '0, mum ' exclaimed the girl who offer. No, dear I'wn sitting on the broken seat, ]Ump- |:o her feet and running up the door- 'Have we anything besides bread- l-5utter and coffee Troutâ€" game " Ilhcre's a bit of cold roast hare some- -I ought to have jugged it, of coarse, I -with a sighâ€" "I didn'tâ€" and I think Iwatrout in Cha's basket," replied the .twisting up a long strand of hair that toiceteeu golden and wab now of a sick- jriiiie Lolor. \\ti," said the tallest of the lads, a sunny- il, cUssijal- faced young fellow of about miwa " I put it under the table in the Do fry it, Lil; I'm awfully fii'hy, here's our lady " announced the .it.hiDi! sight of Hyacinth, her brother I wusin on either side of her, valkine is towards the house. [iiiiresay they picked up Glynn some- ami he'll stay to breakfast. He never It I what he eats when he has our lady to Sit," s id Charlie. hVil.^.ieis worth looking at " cried |nrl, w iih sisterly pride. "She is like Iviiir lily compared to us; we are all fciiul pug uglies beside her. The band- it Tcrschoyles indeed I" With this speech entered the house, and, after avoid- hm ^^ps in the broken oak flooring of IsJl With a dexterity acquired by long Nee. suddenly disappeared down some erscho) leâ€" old Peter as he. was Wat contemptuously called by his lEwrsâ€" is soon as he' saw tlie three fig- Sisprokhing him, handed over the kite- i« to the two elder boys, and with the "'â- sr still clinging to his arm, went to ;ae new-comers, dragging his feet S"3e grass as he walked, to prevent "«.'«i slippers from dropping off. p Tiis a rapid exchange of glances be- [«aix:ind the curate as he drew near, â- ae Uther seeming to ask, "Is all «a that of the son appearing to U' "-^^ is right '• and then the old r'^* drew a bright-red envelope from â- •'^«: and handed it to his nephew with "â- ;â- saying â€" " 'raing, (^,lynn that's for you. jc- to your lodgings to ask you to go ' fw lound you.were out, early as it --^ was on your table so he pocket- " "akuigyou would be here, hunting "I hope „:-;,^5;'^e time he got'ba'ck.' inev "•Del ' P'^CP' generally send a 5»ialtotril"" ^^^^ ^*^^ something â- :tl!!^'5*^ took the envelope, paused ,:^*-. and then opened it. 'â- 'Ojn Ireland," he said without look- -fJf^"' ^- ^ent on reading, his i^a-^r^"'"/?*^^- "Myuncllhas Mst'sin/ ^;**^ change for the worse ' ' »nd extremely anxious to see L ^ut^ the telegram in his hand *sIe!itL\°'-°°""°' "^liile his hearers â- "5- about him, and then continn- ^*Ut!^w^^- if I catch the next l^iidin^y^^*" in Holyhead i^.*ki^. r? ^y ^^'^S and he tnm- !*»aov^^°^°^^ behind him and *^WZ^^**^ a word, but her pale '?»B'?w^'*?"""'tly beautiful as »^ cw'" *^ ^lear witness «* S^idkif!^ to vi^-id scarlet, the ^.'^bBi?'^^«l'.P3 opened slight- ""^tly emotion, and her eyes _?"i5outi^a,j • r.^'^thit T f^^ °^ "â- ^at ever emo- ^L^^OBhr 1 ^^^^^^ ^er remained """"^^^ glimpse of the rejJ L^^'ftJ^"'" ^«^^ married the «i t^ fi"f^et fadad from her 'aeto».i°i%^'^°'° lier eyes. She J^te look with a glance **»*." ^i ^°? ^^ *go. of conrae" ' fo«* JS^bS" Mr. Versckoyle. IMT ^P °*^ now-_a Bister's chfld. {•* aunt," he said â€" "I must be off this instant but hot for long â€" no matter how it goes, not for long"' â€" turning his eyes upon his. bride. " Good-bye Good-bye, uncle Peter â€" I shall telegraph as soon as I arrive at Verschoyle." " Who telegraphed to you I was under the impression that you would be cut off with a shilling, Glynn, if you were known to live in the same parish as your disinherited cousins " said Hyacinth. " Garret Croft he knows I am here. We are very old friends â€" school-fellows, you see. Good-bye, everyone Good-bye, Cha and Pat 1 Where's Lil? Oh*" as the beauti ful young creature appeared at the door. "Come and give me a kissâ€" I'm going away." " Going, away Now â€" at once Oh, where " exclamed the girl, tossing her golden hair back from her forehead and running down the steps. "To Irelandâ€" to Verschoyle. My uncle is very ill I must go. at once," he replied, stroking her sunny head, and looking with brotherly admiration into her large blue brown- lashed eyes, so full pi innocence, purity, and gentleness. "Oh, I'm so sorry I" she said looking up at him. " And I'm sorry for our uncle too, poor fellow 1" "I don,t see why you should be," mutter- ed her father he has treated me brutally all his life. Out of his fifteen thousand a year he has never offered me a ten-pound note â€" me with a large family to bring up and educate Why, when Bob was at St. Bees " " Indeed I must go " interrupted Glynn, as the old gentleman began to raise his voice and whisk his dressing-gown from side to side. " Good-bye, aunt Mary Good-bye, Bob " "Nevertheless lam sorry for uncle Mark, confessed Lily, in her gentle way. "It must be so dreadful to lie on a bed of sick- ness, perhaps of death, ai\d know that there are things you oncht to have doneâ€" and have not." Her voice faltered, and she stopped m some confusion, as if afraid that her very pity would condemn this man whom she and her brothers and sister had been brought up to regard as her father's most deadly enemyâ€" a monster of •^icked- nesB and successful villainy. "What a good little thing you are, Lii ' exclaimed Glynn, shaking hands with every one. Then, turning to Hyacinthâ€" "Will you come as far as the stile with me, and let your breakfast wait, or am I unreason- able "â€" and he looked what he dared not "Yes," said the girl, with her slow sweet smileâ€" "and to the station." "Heaven bless yon, Glynn I don t envy you the old placeâ€" 1 don't indeed, said Mr. Verschoyle, his weak month trembling. "Heaven bless yon a'so, uncle Peter, and every one here, where I have been s(J happy. Now, Hyacinth." Returned and went away, the girl he had just married wJking at his side and in a few minutes the thick neglected wood hid them from view. CHAPTER m. Hyacinth hal gone to the pojt-officein the viiSS!hopingf«ralettor,on th« evemng 5tSrhS^and'sdeD«tnre. AtoefJ^- Sam informed her oTha rmcWs^^; Sd PWiting for more defimtenews, she St hK^ leap as a bnlW envelope ^riveSto her. But she wou^ not it unta she was alone-idoiie with her great «^^"t?hcr fatiier^sUttie wood she went iaitiiaiid "ii^SSSS^T-JEft-SssS 1^ dading aal lieiovia Yns»â€"l yoa Ms kMav ay nnde'a at Ilww tteoMMtperieet «aoonaaInMiditItliaiikfld Heaveo wHh my heart tlut it came to Iste too part na. You are mine nowâ€" mime. I have y^ and own you for betfetr f« wonaâ€" and thi^ ia »U t^e wodd to me. Bott» would be Venchoyle â- adShanganDon.pIiufiftaen thon- â- andayear; butworseb not ao badaftw »u. I haveâ€" aa you knowâ€"* very small I»oper^, which, when realised, will give us Mnne three thonaaod pounds to b«^n Ufe on -quite enough with youth and health to wwk Itâ€" in AnstTAlia ot Canada. And, believe nae, dearest, I do not regret the wealth I have loss for your sake and I am sure that you do not regret the wealth yon have lost for mine. We are young we love wch other. I wonl4, if I li»d known of it, have forfeited with my eyes open what I f orfwted blindly, so sign mysdf as I do now, "Your husbuid, "Glynn Nkvillb." Her pale face had slowly become deadly white and rigid as she read, her eyes dark- ening and the pupils dilating but she laid the letter down quite steadily, drew one long deep breath, flung her hat off her head as if its weight oppressed her and took the other letter from where she had placed it. Then, settling herself a little deeper among the ivy and fern-leaves about the foot of the tree, she read page after page without a sign of emotion. But when she had finished she dropped the manuscript from a hand grown suddenly nerveless, and moaned as she rocked herself te and fro then she fell on one side, and lay white and still and almost breathless, enduring an agony of heart and brain that she was to remember ever afterwards. The letter that had so crushed her â€" that had almost driven the life from her slender frame -ran aa follows â€" "My Nephew and my Heir â€" As I lie here with Death threatening me and yet stand- ing at a distance, and with the thought ever before me that when he does strike it will be but one blow, and that you may not be near â€" not have come in time to hear certain explanations respecting what you may well think a cruel and capricious disposalace of propertyâ€" I have determined to place my reasons on paper, so that if what I fear happens, you shall know why 1 left my es- tate and wealth as I have. 'Such has been my resolution for some time past and Ihavebeendallyingwithit,putting off the task from day to day as I believe sick people often do. Bht to-night I realize more vividly than ever, as I sit by my chamber window and look down upon the dark and rushing waters of the Nore, that this body, now tended and cared for, will soon be a piece of lifeless clay, and the im- mortal part of me is urging the feeble hand, the flagging brain, to say to you on paper what I believe my soul would come back to earth and say, if I did not explain to yon fully and clearly. I am only fulfiling an oath that I swore at my dying father's bed- side, as well as carrying out the codicil of the will that made me Verschoyle of Vers- choyle and disinherited myelder brother. "You never saw your grandfather, Glynn, but I dare say you have; often heard â€" both from your mother and from mcr-of his tyrannical and overbearing demeanour to- wards all who were dependent on him, al- most the least considered of whom were children. Judee then his own three children. Judge then by wha( you have already heard of his temper and disposition, of the state of abject slave- ry in which we lived. Judge, I say, of how Peter* was treated when he latly refused to pay his adresses to the lady chosen for him by our father, declaring that his choice was already made. This choice â€" a beauti- ful young slattern of aincient but decayed houseâ€" he refused to relinquish. He ultimate ly married with the full knowledge that he was selling his birthright for love of a pretty woman. Our father then solemnly disinherited him, gave him an old manor- house and some few fields that belonged to us in Cheshire, and put me in his place. The little estate was -just enough for your uncle Peter to live on, and carried with it the gift of a small living. Onr father, before executing a will so changing the position of his sons, required from me an oath that in life I would not assist my brother or restore Verschoyle and Shangannon to his sons, or help or aid them in anyway. This oath I took willingly and gladly â€" not for the sake of the wealth and position that I was offered, but from a motive that it does not concern you to know â€" from a motive that I have atoned for, if ever sin was atoned for, by suffering. I satisfied my conscience then with plausible sophisms but now, with eternity whispering to my soul and claiming it from my decaying body, with a long life behind instead of before me, I know that my- sophism willavail me nothing when I stand to be judged for revengefully working on the passions of a violent, over- bearing, headstrong old man. "The memory of this sinlies heavy on my heart now it brings meback every thought, every word of that time they come to me in the wind among the trees, in the cawitig of the rooks, in the murmur of the river below my window. "Glynn, the will I have left, which with- out this letter might seem strange and capricious, will, read by the light of what yon know, be recognized as only an effort-- an imperfect one at bestâ€" to keep the oath I swore, and in some measure make restitu- tion* 12 J "I knowâ€" indeed I took the pains to find ojBtâ€" where you have been for the lart||iree months, ft must have been some evil spirit" that sent yon into Cheshire, that pr^pted you to find the banished family. Glynn, you havefound themâ€" you have been staynw to a littlesequestMed villageforthreemonths now, with nothing attractiveabout it excej^ your cousins, orratheryour oousmHyacmth a fair woman, I suppose, as aU onr "fseue. Now I knowâ€" by instmct, if you wiUâ€" that this same evil influence wHl mrge you to wed her. K you do, my vnll, by which I leave you Verschoyle and ShanMnnra, wiD didnherit yon, and take from her the gift tiiat I have been accnmul»tMig for herâ€" as I cannot benefit the boys-f or "^JJf^ Therefore rerisfc the temptation, if it mdeed has entered into your hoM*. and jod^^ wUL leaviBff T*n " "V landed proper^ S'mJ bStler's ddert d««bter mne^r SousSidpouirfs, by ads letter ai^iff jSM^tStHis an efifart to make anwnds HlSS^SS^^ne last word-^ tM I •Byowvavv.* Bo And ••Yob kttow^i â- M,iHka^nrigiitbi wsHyoorliio^^afoodaiaBto «Im donofeaiffiMrttabodTtoaaa tii* «iU vlrt^M, and prido to guard It. ** y°»iif» *•â- ?*•*â€" «d low olns teunHkH i li w ae iibM tfao niMi wW vif tea this, tp wbom wealth has dven no plsasure, to wlMwa-iovatrftlie simple feoaiogoys, affsc- tionste wife and nniung childâ€" js but a name, who now, beonae he once saoemnbed to th e temptatiom of worldly advantage and revMige, can scarcely lift up his votoe in prayer to that God before whom he must answer for the deeds done in the body. .â- -..* "Mark V«BscHOTi«." Hyacinth diid not read the last page she merely glanoed at it. Turning asain to the ^fanjp^^ opnoeriung the exact diqwaal of the money, ahe dropped the letter and sank down in an agony of bitter regret, self • reproach and remorse which â€" denied its natural outlet of tearsâ€" almost stopped the beating of her heart. The treesâ€" their trunks black, tiieir.leaves tranntarentagainst a red stormy sunsetâ€" seemed to swim in bloodbefore her eyes, something loud and torturing rang in hw ears, and, although she did not lose consciousness, she lay as one dead. A hare oam^ out from among some dry ferns, and sat up and looked at her with dewy innocent eyes a bird, sweeping low through the wood, rose suddenly with a startled cry at the sight of her a squirrel sprang upon a bpugh of the dead tree above her, and peered' at her between the ivy- leaves. But none of these wild creatures of the wood ventured near; they feared the silent, motionless beine, althongh she lay as quiet as the ground beneath her. (to be continukd) SeaEfiFects in Holland. ' Perhaps the most important element, pictorially, in Holland, is the sea for in a country mainly reclaimed from it, pierced in every direction by arms of it, whose riches are due to it, and which is washed on two sides by it, this must be so. If you paint in a church, the votive model of a ship, or a tomb of a sea-warrior, is before you if yon compose a peacef id landscape, almost anywhere, the sail of a canal-boat, or a sea-gull, will intrude itself. It was the sea as much as the Nether-landers which drove the Spaniards from the land. An Immense number of people get their living directly from the sea and its many miles of coast make it impossible to entirely omit ifin any artistic effort, even though it be but in feeling the fact that it is pre- sent. It is indeed " A land that rides at anohor, and is moored, 'Where people do not live, but go on-board." The shallow, stormy German Ocean, breaking in reaseless beauty on its white sands, is always a picture. Its waters, often mixed with sand, always in storms, make up in fine color what it lacks in transparency â€" ^from pale blue to warm red in the wave-shadows, yellowish foam, and yet withal gray and harmonious. In high winds it breaks miles from the shore, when all the light in the picture seem, to be in the mass of rushing, foaming water; then if through this comes the black hull and rus- set sails of a fishing-boat, making for a place â€" certain death to any other model â€" it is indeed a picture. The size of these boats makes them most useful large enough to compose well, and yet their feeling and pathos not lost in too great evidence of safety. The admost daily going and com- ing of the fishers from the few villages, the departure for the herring-fishing, with the groups of disconsolate wives and sweethearts, the rise and fall of the tide, with its cease- less change of color and conformation, are a never-failins' source of interest. HIS SUMME VAGATIOIT. A City Man's Experience In the Conntry. As soon as the summer vacation was come, and the weather was torridly warm, away from the city's confusion and hum he fled, to the rest of the farm. The scent of the clover with joy he inhales, he leaps o'er the fence and he shrieks as on slivery raift he his person impales, and fractures the dome of his breeks. The sound of the sup- per bell makes his heart glad, f^ his hun- ger is wolfish and keen, but the milk has been skimmed and the bread it is sad, and the berries are not to be seen. He sleeps in a bed that ia inhabited, and the mattress is lined witJi old hay so, forgetting his prayers, he grumbles and swears, and fights till the dawn of the day. He is called to arise Trith the lark, and he hies to bathe in the trough at the well ^hen 12 hired men are through with it, then tiie towel is his for a spell. His ablutions are done," he goes for a run through the meadows so verdant and trim, when the bull comes along, with bib baritone song, and that settles the mea- dows for him. With pleasure he sees the industrious bees, aiui finds them quite harm- less to be but he finds it is Warm when he happens to swarm some hornets that live in a tree. He goes every place till he poisons his face with the leaves of rhus toxicoden- dron, and he looks like a man who is under the ban, for having been out on a big bender on. He helps to make hay, but he gets in the way, and gets plowed down the back with a rake; then he goes to the brook for pond lilies to look, and bites himself twice with a snake. In sorrow he cries, â€" â- "" with tears in his eyes, 'Tm the wretchedest man a^ong men if nay life can hold on till this sninmer Is gone, Fll never leave Toron- to again." The Gladstone Family. Mrs. Gladstone has four sons and three daughters. The eldest son, Mr. William Heniy Gladstone, was bom in 1840 he is diained to a dau|^hter of Lord Blantyre. The aeooikd la the vicar of Hawarden, Mr, Stqphen Edward Gladstone, who was last married to a Liverpool lady. The third, Mr. Hennr Neville Gladstone, is resident in Calcntta uod the fourth is Mr. Herbert Gladstone, bom in 1854, itT. for a division Trmds, and distingiushed In political life. The eldeBt daughter, Agnes, was married m 1873 to Mr.p^ickhun, head master of Wel- lin^gtoB CdQ£^ the second is maRisd to the B«n mmj ftgw ttho yonue^ J^len, is prfi^al«f OtkwJMaieiH i tTM 'fti » ' Ccdlegs «t Nowham, naar OM n tridgs, A.n AawrkMraaW' vBLoit' Ida^ tsML i« A f|iqJw»»tit niadomwtolM^ th« day stMfdaaaaar facta and Ifignrea ol Hoaaldthopngiwi U» jmn otiagjMaTygaMhas bem axtoa- Th*]arawkpiweafo«iid «a war I860 threw a baU weigUac 68 ponads. with an Initial .velocttw ^1.570 feet per aeoond, and aa anwgy oi 1,100 fMt tons. Now Initial Tslooitias^ high-powar gnna have teeen ineteaaed to VOOfsafe pro- jeetilea at the maximnm wwgfa aa muchaa ^800 pottods, aad in some oasea are pro- pelled by chtfges t(t nea^ half a ton of powder, while the 110- ton guns of the war- ship Benbow reach an energy of about 60,- 000 foot tons. The laigest French steel guns such as are used for the armament of the Terrible^ completed at Breat, the Beqain, built at Bordeanz, the IndomiuUe, buUt at L'Orlent, and the Caiman, finished at Toulon, weigh each about 76 tons. .They deliver a projectile w^hiag 1,716 pounds, with amnzzle velocity of 1,730 feet per second and a muzzle eneray of 3O,O0Q not tons. The guns are rifled breechloaders. The French have other powerful guna, lose constructed on the Bange system be- ing well known. The Armstrong guns now mounted for service in the Itauan armmr- clads Dnilio, Dandolo, Italia, and Lepanto weigh 100 tons eacn, and throw a projectile of 2,000 pounds. These have long been familiar, but the later breechloading guns are improvements over the early muzzle lotbders. The most powerful of them take a powder charge pf about 722 pounds, and have an initiaf velocity of 1,835 feet per second, and a idhzzle energy 51,000 toqt tons. Guns of 105 tons nave also beoi made at Elswick for the Francesco Lauria, th)B Andrea Dona, and the Morosim. In these the weight of the charge is 000 pounds, the weii;ht of the projectile 2,000 pounds, the muzzle velocity 2,019 feet per second, the muzzle energy 56,547 foot tons. These will undoubtedly prove MOST FOBHIDABLe WEAPONS, The largest Krupp gun weighs nearly 119 tons. It is over 16 feet long, has a calibre of I5| inches, and fires a shot weighing 2,314 pounds, with 'a muzzle velocity n â- 1,800 feet. The maximum elevation gives it a range of nearly 7^ miles. Its power of penetration into wrought iron is esti- mated at abouc 41 inches at the muzzle,, 31 inches at the distance of 1,100 yards, and 30 inches at 3,000 yarbs. At the distance of three miles its striking ave|age is still 28,000 foot touK The Italians have two of these guns mounted in a shore battery, for which purpose they are intended. The English 110 gun, manufactered at Els- wick, is about 44 feet long, and its, actual weight 247,795 pounds. The projectile is a bolt weighing 1,800 pounds and, 16^ inches, in diameter. With 850 pounds of powder the actual muzzle velocity attained was 2,078 feet, and the muzzle energy 34,000 foot tons so that with 950 pounds, which the gun is constructed to use, an energy on the projectile of 62,700 foot tons is expected. The recoil of the gun is very fsmall. The British also have a powerful new gun in their 63 ton steel breechloader, which will be carried on the Rodney. It is expected to throw a 13^ inch shot, of!j^l,250 pounds with a powder charge of 583 pounds, and to attsin 2^10) feet muzzle velocity. Should expectations be realized, this gun, though much lighter, will be more destructive than the 80-ton gun of the Inflexible, which takes a projectile of 1,700 pounds, with a cartridge of 450 pounds, reaching a muzzle velocity of 1,600 feet. It is said thatthe next step attempted in heavy gun cons truction will be that of a 150 ton monster, this project being attrib- buted to the Essen works. It^ltvould throw a shell six feet long, weighing a ton and a half. There are also some guns under con- struction which are expected to accomplish great resnlts on somewhat new theories, in the case of the one manufactured for Col. Hope. This is to take an enormous powder charge and to have correspondingly great penetrative effect. What a Boy Costs. " My father never did anything for me, j recently remarked a young mai^ who a few weeks ago finished his school life and is now seeking a good business opening. Judging by the words and the complaining tone in which they were uttered, the member of the firm who heard them is prone to believe that the young man's idea of " doing something," is an outright gift of a thousand dollars in a lump, or file purchase of a partnership in an established concern. The writer while the complaining remark was still ringing in his ears, had the curiosity tO' make a con- servative compilation of what it' costs to raise an ordiiuury boy for the flTst twenty years of his life, and here it is â€" $100 per year for the first 5 years i 500 ISO •• " MoondS " 750 200 " " aiird5 " 1,000 300 " " next 3 " 900 500 " " next 2 " 1,000 »4,150 Yes, this is a moderate estimate of the financial balance againsc the boy who com- plains that his father has never done any- thing for him. Kerosene Lamps. A thorough stady of the subject of pe- troleum lamps has been lately made by Sir Frederic AbeL He^ggests that the rose- voir of a kerosene lamp should always be of metal, the more strongly to resist any ex- plosive tendency of the oil or vapor within and tiiat there should bono other opening than that for the wick, unl^ so small a one that flame could hardly nter it. Ho farther says tiie wick should be soft and dnr when put in, and should completely fill its space but without forcing that- it shotdd be scarcely lon^r than to touch the bottom of the reservoir and there the oil should never be suffered tobeless than two^ tiiirds of tiie depth, while the lamp should always bs filleipartly before lighting. The wick should never be turned down suddenly, and the la-np should not be suddenly cooled or allowed to meet a draught ;uid when die flime is extinguished it should first be lowered a^ far a^ possible, and then 2 sharp gttaag "^t? «h "uVl be blown across, but not down, tiie dumne/. -- â- ♦ • We aft desire eiUier some especial han- fnness in Iffe, or some absorbhig prsnnft, «ddif we cannot attain the first, we do iwhatwe-f^ntomaketiieaBiMiid our own. f ..' 7. J1 111' !•! ^i. i i\ I' l^fM '.. t H^mi:^.