The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

''â- WPWPiWilPPW^lW III mm nvi Of AS The Warwick street flat* were »1- yrnya dismal. Oa a bright day they looked more gloomy and grimy than ever; and when the sun beat down atrong and yL-Ilow u^ion tbe dull-red bricks it seemed to be orUi>bing out tbe lUe, and stifling the bresitb of the hu- nuin beings who tuiigbt and strug- gled and laughed and wefit inside. To- day the beat was ainioel unbearable. It beat doiHu upon the ugly, narrow, aqualid street until the poverty-strick- fii neighbor huod appeared loatbsouie even to ita hardened inhabitants. In one of the fiats a woman who was lit- tle more than a girl wandered listlesK- ly backward and forward, or strummed with weary effort upon her little piano. Sbe WHS pale witii the heat, aud resi- les with a dull foireboding that bad entered her heart, i'or tbe first time since her marriage she felt lonely and oiiaerable, and she had been married just six niomths. During that time nothing had ootrurred to max tbe hur- mony of tbeij Uvea For six months tbey bad been perfectly happy. Every- thing had gone eonoothly. Ralph, who was a singer in one of th« theaters, had bad continual enga^je'inents, and al- tJiough the cDlaiy ho earned was very small, they luid lived comfortably upon it, and been content. But now there was a gnawing fear in her thoughtsâ€" a jarring anxiety that refused to be still- ed. She had seen Haipb grow paler and thinner day after day ; she had noticed the weariness grow in bis eyes tbe tired look that was fast becoming habitual to bis face, and she was afraid. What of, she acArcely dared own even to bersell; but sbe knew that Ralph was working too hard, and that tbe aummer heat was utidermining bis strength. t>hii Hut donsn presently to practice. Somehow lo-day her voice sounded clearer and slronger than it had ever done l)efore. The keys stemed to fall with ficarci-ly an effort bene.itb her fin- gers, and she found herself singing an old song that she bad known years ago at homeâ€" a dull, pathetic little air that made lier suddenly break down and sobâ€" she scarcely knew why, except that the gloomy foreboding bad grip- ped her heart, aud something in the sung, seemed, absurdly enough, to ap- ply to her. Suddenly an idea occurred to her. She sprang up. with a scarlet flush on her cheeks, and with a sudden brightening in her eyes. In a few min- ute.'i she wap uuiking her way rapidly through tbe narrow, reeking street, and out into the broadeir thoroughfare be- yond, tjhe stepped before a bouse bear- ing a brass plate aud then the flush iu her cheeks began to fade away. She hesitated for a iiuimeni before she rang the bell, and then, in her nervou.sness. gave such a peal that the professor, slumbering pea<:efully iu&ide, started up in affright. "Ach, liunmel I" be remarked. "Vat U it J" The rpi)iy cajne in the form of a neatly dressed servant, who announced that a young ladv was waiting to see him. unit, tbe professor's curiosity over- coming his usual uiguity of manners, be ea\ e orders that the young lady should e udinitied. Nellie came in nervously. 6b« glanced at the big. bearded man in front of her and wished she had not been ao hasty. She waj more I ban halt afraid of the profe.ssiirâ€" who bad such a reputation lor eccentricityâ€" and shet h««iLatt'J befoire she plunged into tho â- tory she had so carefully planned to tell him. When she sjmke all her nice- ly worded .spiiteiKes, all her carefully calculated eloiiuence vaaished, and she could only stammer helplessly: "1 â€" I wanted to ask you," sbe began, "to â€" to test my voioa." The professor smiled-.a grim, sig.^ Infioint ijiiiileâ€" and she felt in veryi truth she was l>©ardlug a lion in his den. "Oh I know it's a strange thing to aak you to do," she said nervously, "hutj I thoughtâ€" 1 thiAight • i The professoi grunted through hifl beard. "Well, well," he said gruffly. "Will you take a seat f" "Oh, no," said Nellie, excitedly. "If you please, I'd rather stand ; I'm too anxious, i want to know about my voice. I want to know ifâ€" if I could make Home money." Khe iNiu.sed. A sudden horror at her owji temerity nverinuk her. .She had/ ix>iiu' to one of the mewl celebrated nro- fiy^sors of music in London aud boldly asked him to test her voice I t>uppo.(- Ing he asked her a guinea or two for doing it. Hhe could not pay him. and hie must be told so at on<'.e. " I think, perhaps, I ought not to have come," she caid nervously, " I am very Door. 1 should have no money to pay for yo: r opinion; butâ€" but I never thought of that when I came. I forgot â€"I only thought ofâ€" of Halâ€" of mv- aeJf." Iler voice liroke a little, luid when â- hie looked up she found the profea.sor's vnuill, twinkling eyes fixed keenly mion bier. He said nothing. He stood im- movably watching her, and, as if in reply to some unuitered question, she wejjt on: " 1 was so anxious. Thi.i afternoon Homthing worried me. I don't know what it was exactlyâ€" a sort of fore- boding, and I could not help thinking. My huBlwind, you know, sings at a the- ater. Heâ€" he is not strong, and lately he seems strange, as ifâ€" as if his health WJis giving why. He wants rest and oluiuge. Only the other week the doc- tor snid lie ought to get uway to the â- ea andâ€" and he can't do it. He only (Urns just enough for us to live upon, •aid ifâ€" if he .should be ill, I don't kmiw whnt we should do. I came to you to know if 1 could earn some money." She stopned. The professor was still watching hear. â-  •' Well, well," he .said not unkindly, " 1«^ us see. Let me hear you sing." 6be sal down nervously to the piano, ?''he keys were indistinguishable be- ore her eyes, ami her fingers trembled weakly. For a moment her voice was beyond her control. She felt incapable of steadying it and she could not re- member a word to sing. Then she sud- tftmly caught sight of an old song called "niiddy " lying uxion the piano and she look it up and lieenii to play. She wuig through the first verse with all t lui exquisite pathos of which her voice wofl capable. It rang out soft and clear across the room and the professor al- most taocied he drKunod. lie woke with aatart to find that she had stopped (ukI was putting back the music. " AgaJo," be said harshly. " Sing it again 1" She sajig it through once more ; and wbca she looked around the professor was staring out of tbe window and tbe sight of bis Ixu^k turned toward her B«>nt a chill to her heart, " I was afraid I should l>e a failure," she said, with a half-sob, taking her glove«. " 1 am sorry- 1 " He turned round at the sound of her voice. ISlie did not know that his eyes were full of tears, and that the son^, had conjured up xecollectiuiis of hia dead wife. " Scales I" he s.aid abruptly. And Nel- lie WEvnt back obediently to tbe piano. " Your voice has been well trained," was all he remarked. " 1 had a eood master," feaid Nellie, with tbe chill growing at her heart, " and I have always kept up my prac- tice. I have practiced every day since I have been married." "Good, good "I said tiie professor sud- denly. "Very good; and if .something >tbiou;ld turn up, will you take it at once t" Nellie caught her breath with a gasp you do think â€" you think I can eajTi of astonisiunent . "Take it I" .she cried. "Thenâ€" then, some money I" "1 think," .said the professor, forget- ting hi.s (liiroiiv anil liis Knglish, with :i sudden frantio ipestnre, "I think you haf a peautifui voiceâ€" a very peautiful voice 1 That afternoon Nellie waited impa- tiently for Halpb to come back from rehearsal. Sbe was burning to tell him tbe news, and to get his permission to look oui for an engagement. The pro- fessor bad spoken so favorably of her voiceâ€" bad given her so much encour- agementâ€"that sbe was filled with tbe v\-ilde.«rt hopes. There muat be some- thing in it. He h>id promised to help her out of sheer admiration for her voice, and stirely it must be worth, something for so great a professor to take her up. She lay back luxuriously in her esAy chair and dreamed golden dreajus. And the summer afternooD waned and passed, and still Kaliih <lid not come. She .sat up listening tor his lootsteps. Some body wao making such a noise on the stairs outside that she could hear nothing. Menâ€" hcavy- liooted men â€" seemed to be trujnping up with .some heavy burden. She could bear their clumsy feet clambering up; .slije could hear the murmur of their gruff voices, and she sighed impatient- ly us thesouiids cam nearer, sudden- ly they stoppedâ€" St opjied outside her door; and there was an ominous silence. ihf next muiiieDt there came a knock, and a policeman looked in. Nellie started up with a cry. The [ioliceman came (oinvard aud tried to keep her l>ack. Some other men followed him. Ibere .seemed to be quite a lot of men crowding into bar little room, but sbe could see none of them distinct- ly â€" only one form that lay stretched unconscious on a »hultcr ; and over that form ishe bent, with a terribly white face, and ntared wildly at the narrow Ktream of red blood that was oozing slowly fxom her husband's col- orless lips. • • • • ' • • Somebody was sayln(; something to her about Kalph. "Hi fainted at re- hearsal, and " .She looked up, ond found the doctor was speaking to her. "The truth i.s kindest after all." be said pn^sently. "He is very danger- ously illâ€" so ill that 1 think"â€" glanc- ing around the .shabbily furnished room â€"1 think he ought to lie removed to a :b(n-pital. He requires great care- great care, lie miLst have a nurse, and if his life is to be saved he vaiusll be spared nothing." Nellie looked up helplessly. "Yes, yes," she said dully; "he shall have a nurse ; be sliall be spared noth- ing." i he doctor glanced at ber curiously. He wondered what she was going to do, this little pale-faced girl, lie had learned that her hasbaml was an a*:tor. He knew, too, tliat be earned only a small stiUry, and be feared mom than be told herâ€" more than he oared to put into words. He saiil noth- ing furtherâ€" be only wondered, Aud Nellie ordered a nurse, and everything else the (IfH-tor suggested, with a reck- le.sB disregard of expense. • * » * • • There was no hojie I The diiclor said so, lii^t Nellie refus- ed to believe it; and she siit by the bed- side, looking eagerly into her hus- band's colorless face, and trying to find some Sign of hopeâ€" in vain This very day he might either die or live, and the do<-tor had said that she musti prepare for the worst. It vas impossibleâ€" she could uol, she wrould not, believe that Halph might die. A.s she nat there tlie nurse entered and brought her a letter. Nellie look- ed at it indifferently. What did letters npatter now* She took it in her trcml)- ling bands and tore ii open wearily. As she read a stulden red flush sprang in- to ber cheeiks and a sharp light flashed into her eyes. She read on confused- ly. What she rejid made no impression upom her at first. The letter.s danced betor eh«r eyes and the words aiipeared stupid and meaningless; but after a minute they became clear and shei be- gan to understand. Muie. Lucille, the professor wrote was unalile to sing- at tlie Alliert Hall that night, and -she, Nellie Underw<«xl, w:us to take her place. She looked at Italjih â€" ill, per- haps dyingâ€" on the bed, and then she turned liack to the letter. Her chance had oonie at last I The enhance that she had waited for so eagerly bad come at last liie a wonderful niiraule or else like a fiendish trick. She Looked at it for a moment longer, and then she broke into harsh, unmeaning laught- er. She was to sing at the Albert Hall that night. The manager regretted that Mme. Lucille bud been taiken ill. lie was ex- tremely sorry, and he was angry, too, for Mme. Lucillo's name on the. bills had more than half filled the house; and now her place was to be taken by a little, pale-faced girl, wlu> Iw^ed honeleesly plain and unattractive, UnderwoodI I'he very name was oojiunonpliice I 1 be audience sighed impatiently, and leaned wearily laok against their cushioned seats. They looked more weary than ever when Nellie steppeil upon the at.tge. She was clothed in whiteâ€" a r':iin, old-fash- ioned gown, years old and without a single fUtwer; and they titterecl audi- bly behind their fans. The accompa- nist sat down ami rattled off the open- ing burs of a famous old sung, it »as the cry of a woman for a lover she would never see again, aud it was so old that people thought it was owrn out. The accompanist played on; the notes became slower and finally ceased, aud then he waited. Aj>pareutly Nel- lie had not heard. The music had fall- en from her hands, and she was st<tr- ing out with a while set face at the crowded hall before her. "Stage fright, pour thing I" people murmured. Some of them trtared at her coldly ; some of tliem put up their opera class- es to look at ber; but they couldi not see what she sawâ€" a man lying tossing, ^xhaps dying, on a bed ; they could not feel what stie feltâ€" that terrible ach- ing at iunr heart and that choking at her throat. Suddenly the m,ist cleared from her eyes aud she saw, with a start, the waiting audience before her and tbe glasses leveled to bur face, aud she turned to the accompanist. He under- stood her glance and couuuenced again. Then she rais*!d her eyes and stared straight toward the gallery. When she opened her lips her voice rang out clear and full across tbe crowded hall. It never faltered ; the notes fell from hex lips liquid, wonderful, and the au- dience suddenly became atili. They ceased to stare at her ; opera glasses fellâ€" it was strange that they had be- come dim â€" and in that great hall there was scarcely a sound to be heard. The song went on. What was there in that old-fashioned air to hold them spell-bound I A eiTl'a fresh voice call- ing to her absent lover. They had nev- er heard it aung like that before. "I'he eyes of beautiful women became moist ; strong men leaned forward to hide their faces. They scarcely realized it when the music stopped; then they looked up, to see her disappearing from the stage, and for a brief moment there was a dead silence. Then the storm began. Artificial women forgot their artificiality; wearied men woke to life again, and shouted wildly at the empty platform. Nellie heard it faintly at the back, but her only thought was to get away to Ralph and while she was speeding homeward in a cab, a man was making profuaa apologies to the audience. He was sorry Airs. Under- wood could not sing again that night, but he hoped and believed they would hear her again very soon. When Nellie got home tbe room seem- ed to her very dark. She saw distinct- ly two figures whkih came toward her as qhe entered, and then she heard a faint voice â€" Ralph's voice â€" speaking to h?r from the bi'tL She heard neither the doctor's admonitions nor the nurse's entreaties. She knelt at her husband's side, and sobbed her heart out on his pillow. • •••••• It was a long time before Ralph thor- oughly re<'Overed, but when he did there was no longer any fear of star- vation staring thuim in the face. Nellie's voice had driven the wolf from the door. TWO MOTHERa I noticed her wheu she entered the car. There was something strangely attractive about her, though she must have beean at least sixty, and her face was so careworn, and tbe saddest I ever saw. In spite of my great trouble, I found myself wondering about her and sometimes- for a momentâ€" would almost forget my grief. Only for a moment, though. Then the recollec- tion that my babyâ€" my little, tender l>ahy, used only to the loving clasp of a mother's arms, was in that dreadful box in the jolting lia^gago car, would (xime to me in all its terrible reality, and I would forget everything and everylwdy and remember only my great sorrow. I wanteil my baby; O, bow I wanted himi My heart was ach- ing so for the scdmd of his little, lisp- ing voice, and the touch of his baby fingers. How could I live without him? Why did God give him to me, only to take him back after that one little year? Kor weeks I had been so happy planning a visit to my old home with iNib.v. 1 had tuJd him so much of the dear gra,n<Lmamma he had never seen; I had Imiked forward so hungrily to the day when she would take him in her loving arnis as only she knew bow. And now I was taking him to her; not the warm, laughing dimpled baby she had logiged sn to see. The little still, white clad figure in the casket seem- ed another child. And the cruel cars Jolted noisilv on nnd seemed to say over and over till 1 could scarcely keep from .s(-reaiiiing: "Where's baby? A\heie'» baby?" - Suddenly the train stopped, and my huslxind went out to tasceriain the caii.se. II was u broken rail, and we would lie dei.'iiiied alMiut halt an hour, f was clad, for baby could have a rest from lliat cruel jolting. It was then that she came and sat down by me â€" the woman with the sweet. s.ad f.-ice, an<l almost without knowing it. 1 fimiid myself pouring out my grief to her. It wa.s such a com- fort to me (mine wa- selfish grief. I only tluiught of myself), and she seem- ed to under.sianil.' .<he didn't talk much, but her very presence soothed nie. I retneraber one thing she said; I can hear her low, sweet voice now. "My dear, it is no slight honor to be the mother of an angel." I did not take in the fullne-ss of her meaning t hen, but I lyavc since. My heart was s<i full of rebellion that 'day that I (lid not want to find comfort anywhere. I was sorry when tlu". train started again. "1 change cars at the next aialion," she mud, "and it may help you a little in bearing your burden if I tell you sometli'.ng about myself. I .im on my wiiy to L- to see my only son. To-morrow he goes to the state prison to serve a lile-seutence. I would lie ilie happiest mother on God's earth to-day it I were in yovir place." The train stopped, and she pressed my hand .•i.nd WHS gono. I wtttc.he<l her as well as I could through my blinding tear as I could through my blinding tears till she was lost in the crowd. But those tears were not for baby. â€" d)Lanohi» Balioy King. AT LONG RANGE. I've just expressed imy opinion of Snolison, and toid him in plair^ terms what I think of his conl«<mptible mean- ness. .Snobson's a pretty dangerous man to talk to that way. I sufipose you are ready to bacic your opinion. 1 am. said tbe infuriated man, as he .sealed the letter and wrote Snoli- aon's no'me on the envelope. IU HONOE OF THE PEN, HOW ENGLAND WILL COMMEMO- RATE HER WONDERFUL REIGN. 'Tke Plans far Ibe Great Jnbllee Week- The Speelalon Tliemnelvrii Will be tbe (ireatent Hprctarle â€" Loudon Will be Uverwbelmrd, and rrlees Will Ac Â¥.%• orbllant, ' The £ngliah people are not to be Uamed if the year of the record reign impresses them thus far as a Pente- costal season rather tham an occasion of Joy and thanksgiving, writes « Lon-, don coxrespondenti. Even the pros-< pects of the great week in June are not altogrlher enchanting. There in to he a great celebration, one day ol( which is to be deivoted to the public. It will be a stupendous affair beyond question â€" something unmatched in the history of Chxistemdam in certain ren spects. The gentle ladjr, the grea> sovereign, in whose honor aJl will be done, Ls well worthy the homagCf which her subjects will pay her. It will be paid gladly and with complete national unanimity, in spite of substantial sacri- fices which it will involve. London in, jubilee week will be a place to fly (romi for all who value personal comfort! and txaiu)juility. The cost of seeing the Queen, of getting about London, of merely existing here, will be more than) can be measured on a cash basis. It has come to be a fact that Lon^ don crowded is the most uncomfortable city in the world. For yearsi its hotel accommodation has been inadequate. This yearâ€" well, it is exhausted al- ready. >tud only a small fraction of those who ax*- -:ominig to the jubilee celebration have secured their sleep- ing quarters. Locomotion in London when the town is filled with people, ia slo\ver »han anywhere else. It is a town of great distances, and although the regulation of street traffic is the best in the world, the narrow thorough- fares and immense number of cabs and omnibuses during "the season" have made transit by either of these meth- ods insjjfferably slow. What the situ- ation will be next June it ia APPALLING TO ANTICIPATE. There remains only the underground railway, but that in warm weather is simply an unspeakalde abomination. So it is not a very alluring prospect which London holds out to strangers who think of seeing this town en fete next June. It is distinctly a home lestival which the British empire will hold in its capital city. St rangers are not invited, not even the rulers of other nations. Of course strangers will come, and equally, of course, they' will be welcome, Ixut they must not- complain if they find the accommoda- tions scanty and that preference has iM-en given to those members of the Hritish family who come from distant parts of the empire. The one aim of every human being in London on ITue^day, June 22, will be to see the Queen and' the royal pro- cession. The number of (x-rsons who will be possessed by that puropse on that day cannot be estimated at less than six millions. It will probably lie more. It will undoubtedly bo the larg- est number of men and women ever assembled logetbeir in the history of the world. This massing together of humanity will be the real marvel, the really memorable event of this mem- orable day. The 8|>ectalors themselves will be thc> great spectacle. The most impressive sight I ever witnessed was the silent multitude, three millions in number, who lined the Champs Ely- sees and the Bois de Boulogne last Oc- tober wailing for the entry of the Czar in,lo .Varis. I drove the whole length of the Toute just before the procession passed over it. It seemed like ridinK along the dry bed of a river with all niiuianiiy for its bank.s. A. crowd of 10,000 or even 1011,000 is within ouK>'s comprehension ; it is an assem- blage made uj) of units. When the iijumber mounts into -the millions it i.s no longer a i^rowd, it is no longer hu- man. It is a new and mighty creature, having attriUilea like unto no other. In its pre.sence is almost awe. There, IS revealed the meaning of the words: "The voice of tlie people is the voice oJ (jod." Such a tight will Queen Victoria witness on her ^icat fete dav. She and her escorti will be the real .specta- tors. Their eyes will see and their ears will hear the face and THE VOICE OF GREAT BRITAIN. Thai, in<leed, is a mighty privilege. Kahilous pri;-ca are already being paid for faciliticei to see the Ouoen's pro-' cession. Anybody can do that. It will be interesling and memorable no doubt â€"a s|>ectacle which the children's chil- dien who see it will read about, but. how much more valuable would be thef place of a private soldier in the prwes-t sion it.self. A fortune by comparison shoiiild be the price of that privilege if money would buy it. The people lo-day and history in fu- ture will, however, make chief account of the jubilee procession and it<t parade through London. So I give herewith tbe arrangemeiuts which have just lieen finally fixed. First, the route oC the procession, in all six' miles long, will be us follows: Leave Huckingham I'alice, Constitu- tion Hill, I'iccadilly, SI. James's St., Pall Mall, north side of Trafalgar square, pa.st the 'National Gallery,! thincannon street, Strand, Fleet street, Ludgate hill, to St. Paul's Cathedral. After the ceremony the route will be; South side of St. Paul's Church- yard to Cheuiiside, Mansion House, King William street, London Bridge^ llorough High street, Borough road, St. George circus, Westminister Bridge road, Wtwtminiater Bridge, Bridge! street. Parliament street, Whitehall, the Horse (iuards, the Centre Mall, to Buckingham Palace. It is by the Queen's own desire, and it is characteristic of her, that, she will visit the humblest quarters of Lendoni south bf the Thames, Half of tha route lies through the abode of povertyj for Lambeth is poorer than White- chapel. The crack troops of tbe British army will be used instead of police to keep the line of march. In all ABOUT 25,000 MILITARY will be employed during the day to line the streets and keep order, be- sides forming guards of honor and fir- ing salutes. Cavalry in the arxange- ment forms a very important element, aud it is officially stated that there will be ten cavalry te^imenta em- ployed. Inclusive of the Firat and Sec- ond Life Guards, the Royal Horsa Guards t he Scots Grays, who are alll near London, and contingents of Lan-< cere. Light and Heavy Dragoons, Hti8-< sars, and Royal Horse 'Artillery. These, with the colonial cavalry con- tingents and the Indian special repre- sentative cavalry, will all be quartered in a new special camp at Hounslow, tba English cavalry being drawn froml Alderahot, Colchester, and Norwich for the occasion. There will be twenty- five infantry regiments employed oa the procession day, which willl include the seven battalions of the House- hold Guards, and the remainder wiU be drawn from Aldershot. Dover. Shorncliffe hnd probably places fur- ther away, and will represent Eng- lish, Irish, Scotch, and Welsh regi- ments, with the King's Royal Riflea and the Rifle Brigade. These will be contingents, not regiments. Along with these wiil be strong representa- tive companies of the Koyal Engin- eers and the Army Service Corps. All these will be in a special camp on Wim- bledon Common for the occasion, and, are to attend there three days before the great ceremony, to go through their work as street guards. The Ad- miratlty has not been left out, and strong contigents of 'bluejackets and loyai n^arines are to have very promin- ent places on the df y ; in fact, the bluejackets are to :!>hare the honor of tbe gtiards of honor at Buckingham Palace and at St. Paul's Cathedral with tbe very pick of the Guards battaliona detailed for that duty. THE PROCESSION ITSELF will be about a mile in length. Iti will comprise four regiments of cav- alry, eight squadrons of the House- hold Ctuaxds and other infantry, .seven l>au<ls, and three batteries of artillery These will lead the line, and be fol- lowed by the troops from India and from the colonies. Then will coma the Otake of Connaugbt and his staff. Lord W'olseley, the Commander-in- Chief of the army, and the headauar- ters staff. Following this brilliants cortege will come the l^een's carriage, escorted by the Prince of Wales and other British and foreign princes on horseback. The proi-easion will close with other carriages containing the Crincesses and ladies of the court, mem- ers of the colonial governments, and more military. Jl is exj)ei:ted »bii the procession will leave Buckingham Palace at 11 o'clock, that a stop of twenty minutes will lie made for the outdoor thanks- giving service at St. Paul's Cathedral, another of five minutes for thci presen- tation of an arldress at the Mansion House, and that the Palace will b^ reached again on the return at il o'clock. Intending visitors may be interest- ed to know that the lowest quoted price for a reserved seal from which to viewi this pageant is five guineas, $25. Te.n thousand dollars has already been paid by spec^ilaiors for a day's rent of ona Iniilding facing 9t. Paul's Churchyards A GIRL'S FEAT. Hair (ke •verland Jaurner Vrom rckla to HI. Prlrnbiirc. In mentioning, a few days ago, the services »-endere<l by the 15-year-old Couiitetis Cassini as Secretary and in- terpreter to her uncle. Count Caesini, while Am'ja».sador of the Czar at Pekin, writes ti correspondent, I omitted to mention thiit she had just accomplish- ed a feat to which no other member of het sex can claim creditâ€" namely, the overland trip from Pekin to Stj Petersliurg. The young Countess, he* uncle and a French physician attach- ed to the Chinese imperial hospital left the Chinese capital last December. Un- til the rolling plains of Central Asiai were reached the travelers had to con-* tent themselves with mule litters. These they presently exchanged for Chinese versions of Russian sledges. The Mongolians know nothing alKiut driving, so they fix a bar across the I .shafts, anil a mounted man on either side, taking hold of the end of the bap presses it against the saddle lx)w and galloiw for dear life. 'ITiis mode of progression has at least the merit o* dia|ien»ing with i he use of traces, which are apt to break, (>n entering Hus- siau Siberia they Hvere transported from posting station to posting station aorixis the snow-covered plains and siepues without rest or intermission, iinlil I hey reached the terminus of i hat: I porliiiu of the 'lraiis-Sil>erian railroad I whii'h is already in operation. Trying I as is this jolirncy for full-grown ana • alile-lioiiied man, one cau imagine what ' it miLst have been for a young and deJi- ! cate girl. KMPR.ESS OF AUSTRIA. The pet aversion of the Eiupress ol Austria is bathrooms. So set is hei Majesty in this luitipathy that she posi- tively refuses to lake her morniud splash in the satue room two morningi in succession. She always bathes in a transportab'.e tin tub, which she orderi to be wheeled into her bedroom, break- fast room or study. Just as the freak takes her. Another of BliKabeth's ec- centricities is her mourning. Since th« death of her sou she has not worn a veatigc of white alnmL her person. Un- derwear, nightdresses -everything must lie black. In this matter she com- pletely distances Queen Victoria, who for years was the champion royal mourner of Europe. IMT'ORTANT. .Dnshawayâ€" Thanks, old man. I would like to diae with you this evening, but 1 have an engagement. Cleverttm â€" Is it a presauig eogo^e- lueinl ? lt'8 with a gixU