â- f«rt-»m»^«>«>CeHaK«4«40-f»f«H-»^. t5840-«HHCH I OR. THE STEWARD'S SON porlant Bnd. "Yes. Indeed, you have. I know Lord Arrowdale's pictures pretty well, I think, but, though they are good, as I've said very often, they are nothing compared with this. It is such a .sud- den jump. How do you account for 't, Lady Arrowdale?" Norah smiled, and looked at the pic- ture in silence, but some one spoke for her. "Permit me, Lady Arrowdale,* said Jack, who had fitepped up and hoard the lilUe .speech. 'This picture is .so far and away the best of my fi'Iend, Lord darken your room a.s completely as pos- sible. Lying down throws your head in such a position thai the lids of your eyes have ab.solut«ly no chance to keep off rays of hglit, and there is a deftnite eye strain in consequence. No bed should hi; faced in such a way that you arc foiwd to face Itie morning light, and especially not so lliat the light will waken you. BLACKHEADS. To get rid of blackheads, bathe the face for len minutes in hot water, then I Arrowdale. because he mixed his colors ] jjently press out the blackheads, and • with the ml of happme.ss, drew the or- 1 touch the spots with lemon juice or eau CHAKTER XL.â€" (Continued). Guildford Berton staggerid slightly. then with his eyes still fixed on Cyr'l and Norah, who were leaning over the terrace in vain trying to shake the hands eagerly thrust up to them, ho backed away, stowly for a lime; then, «s he got into the densest part of the crowd, he turned and forced his way through the people wilh a desperate haste, fcvcn strfliing at Iheiii in a fren- xied, furious fasliion. Some shrank back, others struck at turn in r.Hurn and swore at him, but with his head bent down he made a lane foi' himself, and reached the edge of the crowd. With Ihe uncertain staggering stepr. of a drunken man he went down the ane and entf.red the cottage. He hiid left no liglit m the room; the fire had died out; all was dark. Before he stnick a match he felt his way to the sideboard, found a brandy decanter, and, with trembUng hands, poured out a pla.=;sfiil and drank (t. Then, with a cry. as if the spirits had given him power to realize tlie truth, he flung his hands above his head and cursed Cyril, and even Norah herself. As he was raving, in the very midst ol the awful stream of profanity, he stopped short suddenly and listentil. What he heard was only the di.slant sound of the crowd, but lo his ears it look to itself the likene.ss of a wail, a cry from a woman, and, witli asliudder, he cowered ai;a:nst tlie sia,:b.-,ard, and looked over his shoulder willi an ex- pression of sickening fear and dread on his white face, for once again he seemed to see that vague, indelmable shade which bore the faint outlines of the murdered woman, and wliich had haunted him now and again whenever he was over-tried or e.xcited. For :i momentâ€" that might have been a year- he stood cowering, bent almost double: then the expression of his face cfiange.l to one of sinister cunning, and. still looking behind him and moving his lips, though no words came, he stole on tip- toe toward the cupboard. • •••«, Three hours later Cyril and Jack stoou together in the drawing-room. Lady and Norah had gone upstairs, presuni- ably lo bed, but really to sit and talk of the wonderful events of the day, and Lord Femdale, declaring that he must havfc a quiet cigar after all the excite- ment, had taken Mr. Petherick to the smoking-room. The two friends stood looking at each other for a moment, then Cyril held out his hand. "I wish I could tell you how I fctl to- nigtit, Jack," he said; "how happy I am, how grateful to you all, to you and the Ferndalcs, and nil these good people, wilh their .simple, warm-hearted welcome. Please God, I will be worthy of their love, and keep it! But my darl- ing won't find it difTicult to do that, will she? Jack, I ask myself as I stand here thinking of the great good luck which has fallen to me, why 1. of all men, should have been so fortunate and so blessed, andâ€" and. Jack, it almost frightens me! I can only say, from Ihe bottom of my heart, that I am gratofulâ€" , very, very grateful!â€" and, thank God, can add that I am at peace with all men." "F.ven Guildford Berton?" said Jack, quietly. Cyril started, and a look of pain crossed his face. "Jack, I had forgotten him," he said, simply. , , , "Thais only natural, rejomed Jack. "But I haven't, and as I have interfered so much in your affairs, you'd better let me finish up by disposing of ttiat in- genious gentleman," and he began but- toning up hLs coat. . , „„ "What are you going to do? asked Cyril, gravely. „ „ . , "I'm going to call upon Mr. Berton. "To-nightr' "Fo-night, for I've a shivwd suspicion that it I wait \mtil the morning 1 shall not find him at home." "Butâ€" but why not let turn alone? Why not let him go? Ah, 1 see! I'd almost forgotten." "â- ^es," said Jack, quietly and grimly, "I only want to ask Mr. Berlon one question, and I intend to have the an- swer. That q\iestion is, 'Where- is Becca South?' If that answer is .sulistactory i should say you had bcllcr lot Mr. Guild- ford Berton depart in peace." "In Heaven's name, yt-s!" responded Cyril. "I don't know that Heaven will have much to do with it." rejoined Jack, go- ing into the hall and asking for his coal and hal. "Bring mine, loo," said Cyril, quietly, lo the footman. "You mean lo go with me?" asked Jack. "Can you ask me, my dear fellow?" "Then Ferndnle and Pelhcfick .shall go also," said Jack, and ho went into the smoking-room and informed thbm of his purpose. Almost without a word the four men went out. Jack only made one remark as he looked up at the .sky. "If it were not for the bonfire we •hould want 'i lanlern." Still in stiencc. or sp<>aking just above * wlusper. they went dowm the lane, and ilow! before thfc gate in Ihe wall. "I^Mfted," a»i4i. Jack, azul he looked at Cyril. Cyril put his strong shoulder to the Joor, and with a creak it fell back. Jack noilded approvingly. "All dark," he said, in a whisper. "He has gone to bed orâ€" flown. No. the door's open. Wait," he added, on tlie threshold; "let me go first; I'll call if f want you." They signed assent, and, still lit by the glow of the bonfire, he pushed open the door of the parlor. Almost in nn instant he was back wilh them, saying nothing, but wilh an expression on his face which caused them to start for- ward. "Wait^a light," he said, in a voice that trembled slightly. Lord Femdale struck a hght, and they entered the room. A strange, pungent smoU came out 'o meet them, and almost slifled them. Cyril, with a foreboding of something evil, remembereii it. Jack lit a canJIo and held it up, ami as its rays fell upon Ciuildford Berton's figure, lying half in the chair and half on the floor, Cyril uttered a cry. They raised him, and Jack lore open his collar, and laid a hand upon his heart. Then he looked around at the rest, and spoke the one dread word : "Dead!" For a moment or two they stood speechless and awestruck; then, wilh cnniprussod lips, Jni k opened the deail man's coat, and took from the pocket some letters. Cyril bent forward. "They are mine," he said, almost in- audibly. Jack h.inded them to him. and ns ho look them something fell on the floor. Jack picked it up, and Cyril with a shud- der, exclaimed: "My ring! tho ring I gave Becca! And â€" my God. Jack! â€" and here is the letter I wrut<- that night at the fete and gave lo her!" and he covered his face with his hands. J.ick rose. "I shall got my an.swor after all," ho said. ";Light that lantern, I'erndale." In awestruck silence, but wilh n fovrr- ish eagorness and dread, lliey searched the grim place from room to room; then, after a moment's thought. Jack lotl Ihe way to the garden, followed by the trembling old woman uttering inarticu- late cries of terror. Jack stepped before the heap of leaves and stooped down. "Get me a spade, some one!" he said, hoarsely. Lord Ferndale brought one. and Ihey stood round while Jack worked. .\ suspen.se of a few minutes thai seemed ages, and then they heard his voice, solemn ns a knell: "I have found the answer; it is here!" « • • • • • Two years later the nrlisiic world was thrown into a slate of excitement by a certain pielure in the .'\cademy exhibi- tion of that sooBon. J It was a landscapeâ€" a small one. but wilh two figures, a lady and a child. The lady wns seated under an apple tree in a most delightful orchard, and the child was lying on Us back, vainly endeavoring to bite an apple at least three limes the size of its mouth. It was .so fresh in treatment, so deli- cately painted, that the connoisseurs wore unanimous in their approbations and prai.se, but the general public, who know little and care leas for composi- tions were quite content with being charmed by the exquisite beauty of the mother and the delightfully lifeliku youngster. It was the picture of the year, and it wn.'« found necess.nry to place before it Ihe protecting rail and policemen which only appear before the great event of the exhibition. Critics praised it, the papers rhapsodized it, the public crowded to see it. and tor some days after that on which the ex- hibition opened everybody was asking who and what the painter was. for the name in the catalogue was evidtnlly an assumed one, and told nothing. The mystery only heightened the pub- lic and artistic curiosity and interest, and at dinner parties and in the pau.sos of the dance one heard people saying to each other: "Have you .seen the mother and child in the apple orchard 7 Splendid, isn't it? Wonder who on earth the man is?" The secret was very well keptâ€" for nearly n month. M the end of that lime, however, the veil was lifted, for a fatno"is critic, who was shan''er than his follows, happened to visit the gal- lory one afternoon, and found the popu- lar Counless of Arrowdale standing be- fore it. .\s he looked first al the picluro and llien at her she happened to smile. Now, the mollier was not a porlrail of Norah, hut C>ril hud perhaps uncon- .sciously bestowed upon the pauited Jace a relloction, a hint of the smile which \v3is one of the charms wilh which Noruli worked her spells, and the critic divined the Inilh. "Lady Arrowdale," he said, growing rod wilh the excittmenl of his discov- ery, "your husband painted that pic- lure." "Oh, please don't tell. 11 was to be a .secret, andâ€" and we have kept it so well !" "Yes, you have," returned the critic, who. of course, meant lo rush off as soon as ho could and proclaim bis im> chard by the light of love, and gave his whole heart to the mother and the child. And now you know not only how .Ar- rowdale came to paint such a picture, but why he calls It 'Joy.' Am I not right. Lady Arrowdale?" And Nbrah, as she put her hand on his arm, could only aesenl by a smile, which the critic afterwards declared made him feel as if the tears were in his eyes as well a."! in hers. The End. I HEALTH I POORLY NOURISHED CHILDREN. .Vlalnutrilion in cliildren, wliich, d d ' Cologne. Vvipe tlie face, and rub m a good skin food, or cold cream. Take pleiily of green vegetables and fruit, have rooms well ventilated, and take daily exercise in the open air. BLOOD PURIFIERS. Figs or some fresh fruit should always be taken at breakfast. Fi'uit in the morning is gold. Apples are an excel- lent purifier for the blood. Baked ap- ples and cream make a nice breakfast dish eaten with brown bread and butter, it is said that apples euten plentifully will work wonders in giving persons who are addicted lo alcoholic drinking a distaste for the same. FOR BANDAGES. For the careful woman who always has bandages on hand there is nothing teller to keep them in Itian wide-mouth- ed gla.s.s jars wilh tups that screw on. course, li to be considered a condiUon ^'*»« P'i>i;es of old linen and cotton should be boiled in order to have them perfectly clean, then ironed and torn in- to strips, and each strip neatly rolled. A number of the.se lillle rolls can be rather than a disease, may usually be Iracod lo one of lliree causes. Occasion- ally, althougli rarely, it is an inherited tondencv. The children of feeble par- , . . . ,. ... fiiiU may inherit a general weakness of P*'t '"'-o one ordinary-sized jar. consliluliou. and exhibit that weakness cliielly in their digestive processes. But sonieiimes this inheritance is only ap- parent, since a nervous and unstable RE.\IEI>Y FOR INDIGESTION. Clean and scrape the roots of six or eight dandelions, cut into small pieces mother may react on her children for I and pour over them a pint of boiling ill. even if they do nol inherit her ten-! water, cover clo.sely and let stand over dencles, by excesses ond uncertainty night. Strain through cheesecloth and ;a her system of bringing up. it is ready for use, a dose being a wine Another and very frequent cau.se of < giuss full before meals. It must be kept mnlnairition in the young is improper j cold and renewed every three days, feeding. In babies it oflen results from I The juice of two oranges and a little some error in starting tlie diet, especially 1 sug.ir can be aded and it will be more in arlitleially fed infants. If the diges- i pleasant to take, lion of a very young baby is allowed to get out of order, it is sometimes a long time righting itself, and all this I'me the child's general nutrition is nec- I essurily suffering. I With older children a poor and tn- i S'.iiricient diet will naturally result in v.cak and anemic states, ju.st as it will ; light in Paris the other day when 111 older persons, but it is generally the Jacques Brisset returned after three DIED AT WIFE'S FEET. An Enoch Arden Tragedy Enacted in Paris, France. An Enoch Arden .tragedy came lo OOCKXJOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOUNG FOLKS MR. BUSHEL'S HOSPITALITY. Four brotUei-s by the name ol Feck, (All Mr. Bushel's kin), As often as one desires it. Are taken by liim in. ;• ,. Light sisters, the Misses Gallon, Wen tlie four Peck brolhoi's are out. In Mr. Bushel's quai'tei"s, Have room to move about. Thirty-two cousins, the Quarts â€" ah, mel What will .Mr. Bushel do? Polite and open he smiles and says, "I'm alone, so tliei-es room for you." A jingling crowdâ€" the sixty-four Pints, To shelter them, no tun! Mr. Busliel laughs, "I'm empty now, r' Walk in, come, every one!" "' Two hundred and flfly-six baby Gills, The tiniest friends ami shy â€" "Can we all come in?" Mr. Bushel le- plies, "I can hold you and not halX try. A jolly good fellow to entertain all. This Mr. Bushel must be! He lakes them only one group at a limeâ€" And each group makes hira, you seel opposite mistake that is made. .An cverfed child will suffi>r from poor nour- i.'.hment quite as much and often more than an underfed one years' absence, and on learning from his wife that shfa hud remarried, fell dead al her feet. Brisset ran away lo Belgium w-ith a The danger is not so much from an ; music hall singer three years ago. He i r.rca.sioiial overhearty meal, althciigh | took wilh him S.'jOO of his employer's I that is a grout mistake. An indi.scrotion money, and left his penniless wife the that results in an acute attack of uidi- ! burden of supnorting two children. ge.stion meets with the punishment that; About a year ago she was informed liU the crime; the offending matters are that her husband had been found dead. r; Tried off from the system, and the j with his throat cut. on Ihe Belgian i lrans,-!clion is clo.scd. to .say nothing of|[roi,iior near Lille, and her husband's jtlH' fact that a salutary lesson has been | passport and other papers were handed given, which the parents may remem- ; [q her. ber next green-apple-sea.«on if the boy so„,; afterwards M. Courtv, a neigh- f'jrgel.s. But the danger of malnutri- ! i^^ir. asked her to be his wife, and Ihey Irion lies in the con.st.inl giving of u 1,1-1 ^ppe murried and lived happily to- t'e more food Ihnn the system needs. causing fermentation, restlessness and discomfort, and resulting in such low- ering of the geni'ral condition that ac- tual slow slarvation may result. becaiL-je i Ihe child is unable lo digest enough food to feed it. .•\ third cause of malnutrition in chil- dren, and one which is to be looked for gether. While M. Courly was away from home the other day there was a knock at the door. Mme. Courly went to .«iee who was there, and found a pale, thin man. with hair almost white. Before she could ask what he wanted he fell down on his knees nnd a.sked „. . „ ,, , . ;her nanlon. In bewilderment the wo chiefly among the poorer people and in i iji'""". .... . . _ tenemenis, is a want of proper ventila- tion. Rooms are too hot and too crowd- I od, or too cold and too crowded, win- I dows are seldom or never opened, and plumbing is often defective. If the chil- dren of of their ti ily would it is. any epidemic finds its greater nuni ber of victini^iiiioiig then;.- Youth's Companion...,^BP man asked whnl there w;us for panlon, and hfe then told her that he was Bris set. her husband. He said that his life with the music hall singer had been most unhappy, and i'me on me'^re^ri iS" moX! I f"''-' , '""^ Th!'^^ nonnv "' Fn.Mhe 1 l>e murh higher- and even n, roW)cd turn of his In.-I rciin\. ho ttie epidemic find'; its Zater mm ' l"-^' '->^ ''"yi.'l^';'•!^ ,.â„¢ ''" ..T'^'"!" RUS.SIAN TEA. Writing on the effects of lea as a bev- erage. Sir I.nudor Briinlon draws a con- tiMsl. In Mo.scow he d»ned with a scicn- j lific man. and after dinner the samovar jwas placed on tlie tabic and tea handed I found. He asked his hostess how much I leu she ii.sed. and she replied: "I am 'x- Ittavugant in tea; we are twelve al din- j nor. and f put in four leaspoonfuls. out j most petjple would not put in so much." Here, the writer thought, is a difference fiom our rule of one teiispoonful for each person and one for the pot, and a I rtason why lea can be drunk to such a I largo extent in Russia without doing I harm. While ho wus spending the j night in a herring boat off Whiibv the n.asler cnmiilained of his sufferings from I indigestion. The reason becaiiie evident I when Ihey made some tea. -nut. instead I of being a pule striuv color nii<l having 1 .1 hardly perceptible fliiviu'. us in Rus'^ |sia, il wus as black a.s ink and had n strong, bitter and nstringent t.istc. Tea . bac^ apparently been put into the pot I not by the spoonful, but bv the hand- j ful. Several cuptuls every day was suf- niccnl to produce any amount of dys- pepsia. A CERTAIN CURE FOR CHILBLAINS. Mutton, tallow, and lard, of each half a pound: melt in an iron vessel, and ndd of hydralod oxide of iron Iwo ounces, stirring continually with an iron spoon until the ma.ss is of a uniform black color; then let it cool and add of Venice turp«f;tine two ounces, and of .\nnenian bole one ounce, and of oil of bergamot one drachm; rub up the bole wilh a lillle olive oil before putting it in. Apply several times daily by put- ting it upon linen or hnt. WHEN RESTING. When you arc resting, even if It la Jo be only a matter of a few minutes. Mme. Courly gave him food, and while ho was eating relaled the history of the past two years. When she came to the account of her marriage Rri.s.><et guve ;i convulsive start, and fell dead al her feel. ..,. , Mme. Courtv. who had unwittmgly committed bigamy, will go through the marriage .service a second lime wilh M. Courly ^ after they have both oAtend*' Dri.ssefs funeral. BlDUIllST TEM1M.K.S. Itctnfl Turn<>d Into S»hot>l9 and Prison Kclunn Methods. "During a recent vi.sil to Ilai Cheng," savs Geiierul Summons, " a city of be- tween 20.(X)0 and :i0.ut)O populaUon, lo- cated near Liuo Yang, on the Chinese Eastern Railway, the Chinese magishvvle Mr. Kuan Feng Ho, informed nie of his Uesirc for illustrations and price lists giving inforniution regarding the follow- ing articles:â€" Pimple mechaiiicul devic- es for spinning cotton yurn by hand, simple mechanical devices for weaving cotton cloth by hind, hand machuies for weaving course sacking, simple hand power machinery for weaving course silk and macliincry for making rope by hand. "This particular magislralo is one of the most progressive Chinaman I have mot in the Orient. He is a di.-;eiple of Yuan Shih Kai. the Tien Tsin Viceroy, who is advocating reform melliods for China. "He has turned Ihe two large Buddhist temples and a temple to Confucius, in Hai Cheng, into temples of modern edu- cation and modem prison reform me- thods. The more importiinl temple is Ihe sent of education in Magi.?lrale Ku- an's district, which comprises a large part of that .seclion of Manchuria he- tween Mukden and the port of Niuch- wnng. Two bright Japanese male edu- cators are in charge, and the chief aim !» the practical one of preparing salivo teachers for the schools soon lo be es- tablished in the entire districk." THE LATE PLOVER. 11 was a beautiful summer morning, and Uncle John was obUged lo drive out to his farm. "Would you like to come wilh me, Teddy?" he asked, as the horse was brought round to the door. "Yes, sir!" Teddy answered, eagerly. 'I just guess I would." The sun was bright, and the country road was green and sweet with delight- ful odors, and Teddy trotted around in the fields like a young coll. Uncle John was driving along home at a smart trot, when all of a sudden he slopped the horse quickly and cried out: "Teddy, do you see thai?" And there, right under the pony's feet almost, were a whole family of Utile plovers. Teddy was so delighted that he could scarcely spealt. The liny birds were just as quiet as could be, becuuse their mother hsul taught them nol to make a noise when finy danger came near them. But lliey were dreadfully frightened, tor you see they had boon nearly run over. "You may get out. Teddy, and run along the road for a short distance," suui Unele John. And then Teddy saw that Uie little plovers were not alone, but that their father and mother were wilh tliem. The minute Twldy's feet touched the ground the old birds began to make a fuss, f'l'obnbly they thought he was a cruel, i nd boy that was coming lo steal their birdies. The mother "cheeped" and all her lit- tle family followed her into the gru.ss al the roadside, but Ihe father bird ran niong in front of Teddy, back and forth, and seemed to want the little boy la pluy wilh liim. "Try to catch him, Teddy." he said. Teddy tried, but found it wns not in easy thing to do. II was queer, too, for the plover drugged one wing along in the dust, and seemed to be quite lame, but just as soon .is the little boy would get near the bird and think he could put his hnnd on it. he would find it wus a little nliead of him all the time. He followed it along the road forlhr"e or four minutes, Uncle John driving slowly after him, till all of a .sudden, when the father plover thought ihe mother bird had had lime to gel their wee family through the fence into the field and to hide them .safely in Ihe long gra.ss, he rose straight up into the .lir, ond ;iway ho flew buck to them before Tedily hud time to think. "Wasn't it loo bad to fool a boy liko thai.' I'ncle John said, as Teddy climbi^l lack into the buggy. "You see the fa- ther bird was only ijrelending he was Inme, so you would think you could enlch him. and then, while you wore chasing him. he know the mother plov- er would Ix? hiding the Utile ones. If vou were to go bftck now you couldn't find thorn nnvwhere." "Oh.'' -suid reddy. "but I wouldn't have hurt thorn. Why did they want to hide fioMi me?" "Well. voM sec." said Unele John, "they didn't know you had an Aunt .\n- M. who bus laiighl you to bo kind to evii'v living thinsx. " "Thril's so." .s.Tid Teddv. soberly, and bo wondered if ho would ever know is much as Uncle John did. INACCES.SII'.LE FORESTS. Nearly all of the nortlurii and east- <«rn part of Cualeuiala is covered wilh I) dense tropical forest, consisting of mahogany, dilferent kinds of cedar, chicle and other hard woods. .Along streams down which logs eon be fioat-. fti.' much of ttic mahogany has been cut," but us yet very little of the oilier woods t.uve been marketed. Ttiis i.s e.speeial- ly true of the (iepart'nents of Pcleii. .Vi- la Verapaz and Izabiil. Mo.'-t of the for- ests still belong lo the goveritnient, and the usual method of securing thi> timber is by concession, by which a certain number of trees are cut. at a given price per tree, or a stipulated sum is paid for the timber on a given tract. II is not an easy matter to get titles lo largn tracts of land in niiatemala, as it is dis- couraged by the govornmeiil. Ttie-se conccs.<<ions are nol usually granted for a longer period Uian five years. Some- times it is stipulated that if a cerl.iin number of tress are cut duruug Uuit tirao Uiey must ie renewed.