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Markdale Standard (Markdale, Ont.1880), 29 Nov 1883, p. 6

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 ^ispg^ir- f^ ,-*' â- 'S A 6IKr$ FOLLY. " He will turn back," she whiapered to herself. "Sarelyâ€" rorely !â€" for I couldn't bear to lose him." Bat Mr. Watkyu went straight on to the gate. ^^ •' Thomas 1" she called cut. "Thomas!" He turned then. " What is it " Perhaps she had it in her mind to humble herself lo him â€" who knows She did no- thing of the kind. A moment's pause, pos- sibly of indecision, and then the produced a note from the folds of her frock. •'May I ask you to do me a little faver, Thomasâ€" for the last time " "What is it ' he repeated. "If you would not very much mind fo- ing home by the bill, and would leave this note at Miss Ford's. I ^icularly wish her to have it this evening." He paused for an instant, not replying. She went on hurriedly. " I see that it is disagreeable to you. I have offended you too much." "Not that," he answered, holding cut his hand for the note, "but I can hardly spare the time for the long way this evening, as 1 have to call at Killick's lor my father. However" He laid no more but took the note. "Good-by, Thomas.' • Gocd-by for aye. God be with you " "What a solemn mood he is in, ihe stu- pid fellow " she coirmented. "But I am glad he took the note I shall be sate now." Miss Alison Reece was a clever young lady. The direct and near way to Mr. Watkyn's home would lead him past the willow walk. She had devised this im- promptu note to her dressmaker in the afternoon to prevent his taking that usual route. Had he seen young Vavasour cooling his heels within the precincts of the willow walk he would inevitably suspect he was waiting to keep a lover's tryst. Alison leaned over the gate, and w'atched him as he walked away, watched him take the lane that led to the route she had wish- ed, and disappear. She stood there until the gold in the clouds had changed to crim- son, the crimson to purple, that spread it- self like a royal mantle over the western hills. White mists began to settle on the brooks that but a moment ago had reflected the gorgeous rays of the setting sun. Some- how it seemed to make her shiver, and she crept up to her own room with a strange sense ot loss at her heart. Mrs. Reece had gone out after tea to sit with 9 sick neighbor, and Alison devoutly hoped that she would not becoming home yet, or there might be difficulty in getting away to keep her appointment. It was near- ly time to be starting at least, she might as well go at once, and then she should be rafe from her mother. Patting on her hat she ran down stairs and opened the kitchen door. "Patty, if ncamina comes in and asks for me tell her I am only strolling about this lovely evening. I shall be in directly." But the loveliness of the evening had gone. Somewhat to Alisc n's surprise the white mist had increased so greatly as to obbcure every- thing but itself. "How quickly it has coma on " she ex- claimed. Mr. 'avaEour was waiting for her, and they paced for a few minutes the willow wali together. But for a very few the young man said he was pressed for time he had "heaps " of packing to do, not having touched it jet, and he was going away m the morning, " Going away " exclaimed Alison. "Yes, I ml be shot to it 1" said he. "I got a letter this morning recalling me home. My mother's ill, is ordered to Nice, and she wants me to accompany her. Fate is cruel tons, dear Miss Reece." "Bat â€" you will be coming back here " cried the startled Alison. "I'm sure I don't know whether I shall be coming back here ever, or whether I may tind myself banished to the remotest regions of Siberia," drawled the dandy twirling one end of his mustache. "Nothing seems cer- tain in this sublunary world except uncer- tain changes. Old Tarbey was quite knocked down with the news. I wrote to ask you to be good enough to meet me here, know- ing I should not have a minute all day to get down toyour place â€" to tell you of it, and ro say good-by." There was a matter of-course carelessness in his voice and manner that grated terribly en Alison her pride rose to the surface. " Well, I suppose you will be glad to go, Mr. Vavasour I ' " Glad? Ah, I don't know about that. Glad to escape Tarbey and his grinding; im- meusly sorry to leave you. Wish you were going with me." " You are too kind. I will not hinder you any longer and 1 must be goiug home, too. Good night, and good-by." Mr. Vavasour took her hand and held it. " Good-by, my dear Miss Reece," he said. " I shall often think of you and of our plea- sant meetings, ^ou will let me take a fare- well kiss " He bent his face to hers, "How dare you sir " she exclaimed, starting back from him. "Kiss me, indeed, and here Until this night I had taken you for a gentle- mean." "I beg your pardon," he said kughingly "I meant no harm. Holloa, what a mist it is " he broke off, as they came to the end of the walk and the open field beyond it. "One can hardly see ten yards before one. I must see you home," "No, no, no!" cried Alison, vehemently. "I know my way i)erfectlyâ€" better than you do â€" I shall go alone. You will have enough to do to get back to the ^rsonage; take care you don't miss the path. Good-by, sir." She flew from him across the field and was lost in the mist. He took the oppcs'.te path. "And so that's the laft of Reginald Vava- sour," thought Alison." It serves me right. What a simpleton I have been I â€" as Thomas called me. How I hope mamma has not got home." The miat seemed to grow more dense every minute, and Alison really found her own gate with some difficulty. Her bonnet had not been put away abore a minute when Mrs. Reece came in. " Sach a dreadful miat," she observed to Alison I dcn't think I ever saw such a one. It came on suddenly after the moet lovely •unset. Quite a remarkable sunset. I hope you noticed it, child." "Thomas W^atkyn took care I should do that, mamma. He called it divine." "Indeed, it lookednothiM lep,^ repHed Mrs. Eeece. "I ami ,gla^on ha^ ^d Thomaa here.'" Ih ' i- Alison bomplained of a headache, and went up to bed; she was afraid of bein^ questioned. If the evening could come over again she would treat Thomas Watkjn djf^- ferently. She felt a litt'e ashamed qf-her-, self she felt a little uneasy. "But I will make it up with him," she sighed, as she laid her head upon the pil- low. 'He will be ure to let me he is, sp good and he loves me so truly." '^- " Alison awoke beiime, and to a vague sense of uneasiness. It was a fins mommg, the mist all cleared away. As she stood at the window, the rising sun, lifting himself ma- jestically in the east, tinted her cheeks in a rose-red flash, and threw down on the green meadows floods uf golden light, while the songs of thrushes and larks broke out from every hedge and coppice. "We must make the damson jam to day," observed Mrs. Reece to her as they rose from breakfast. "And if you would only wash up these breakfast things, Alison, while Patty goes about her other work. I should soon have the kitchen table clear and might begin it." "Oh, very well," answered the girl cheer- fully, for she had been taking herself to ta»k for her past bohavior, and meant to turn over a new leaf. "Vou shall have the table cleared directly, mother." She WIS busy in the kitchen when she heard her mother open the front door and some one come in, "It is that chattering Mrs. Bennett," thought she, as she dried the teaspoons. "Alison 1 come here'" called her mother, in a quick voice. She went to the parlor just as she was â€" her sleeveo turnni back at the wrists, a large brown holland apron on. Very pretty she looked \vith it all. But it was not Mrs. Bennett who sat with her mother it was a venerable, white haired old gtntlemsn â€" Mr. Watkyn the elder. "I am come to ask about Thomas," he said, "1 believe he came here last night, Miss Alison at what time did he leave you 1" A prevision struck her, with a sort of ter- or, thatsomethingwas w"ong. "Haleftquite early," she faltered. "Well, he hai never come home." "Not come home " she said with a white- ning face. "I sat up till 1 o'clock, and then I thought the mist must have kept him, that he had staid at some fm^nd's house, I knew not what to think, aud that he would be home the first thing this morning. But we have not seen, said 1 can not hear of him." Mrs, Reece impressed with the frighten- ed, guilty look that Alison could not keep out of her countenance, and began to feel uneasy. ' 'Can not you not tell what time it was when he left you " shedemEnded stern- ly- "It was before dusk; it was just after sunset, before the mist came on. It must have been near 7 o'clock." " Which road did he take " pursued Mrs. Reece. And very reluctantly Alison answer- ed, for she saw it would bring on further questioning. "The long way â€" round by the hill." "Round by the hill " echoed Mr. Wat- kyn, in alarmed burprise. '"Why did he take that way " Alison flushed and paled alternatively her lips were trembling. The fear creeping upon her was that he and young Vavasour had met and quarreled. Perhaps fought â€" and in j ared one anotiier fatally. In these dread moments of suspense the mind is apt to ccnjure up far-fetched and unlikely thoughts. "I asked him to go round that way," she replied, in a timid tone "I wanted him to leave a note for me at the dressmaker's." Old Mr. Watkyn sank into a chair, put- ting up his' hands before his troubled face. "I see it all I" he breathed faintly "he must have fallen down the Soar." Alison uttered a scream of horror. "Deceived by the mist he must have walked too near its edge," ccntinued the old man. " Heaven grcnt that it may not be so 1 but â€" I fear it. Was he mad? â€" to at- tempt to cross the plateau on such a night " Catching up his hat, Mr. Watkyn went out swiftly. Mrs. Reece graped her daught- er's hands. They were icy-cold. "Alison, what pasted between you and Thomas last night " "Don't ask me, mother Let me follow Mr. Watkyn I cannot rest indoors. Oh, it can not, can not be as he fears " "Not one step till you tell me what pass- ed," said the mother, firmly. "There's more in this than meets the eye." 'He asked me to give up talking to Mr, Vavasour," "And you refused. Well?" "He told me I must choose between them," ccn'fnued Alison bursting into tears. "Oh, mother, it was all folly, all my tem- per he could not see that, and when he went away he said he went for good." Mrs. Rrece drew in her thin lips sternly. She stood thinking. "Ani what does it mean about you giv- ing him a note for the dressmaker? I do not understand. You had nothing to write about." The girl got her hands free and flung them before her face to deaden the sobs. But Mrs. Reece was a resolute mother at times, and she extorted the confession. Ali- son had improvised the note, and sent Thomas around the long way to deliver it, and so keep him from pi8ung by the willow walk. "Oh, child, child ' mouied the dismayed woman. "If he has indeed fallen over the Scar it is you who will have given him his death." And it proved to be so. In taking the two miles round between the cottage and the farm a high and perpendicular precipice called the Scar, had to be passed. The tableland or plateau, on the top was wide and a perfectly safe road by daylight, since a traveller could keep as fir from the un- protected edge as he pleased. But on a dark night or in a thick fog it was most danger- ous. Deceived by the mist of the previous night, Thomas Watkyn must have drawn near the edge unwittingly and fallen over. There he lay, on the slwrp rocks, when the poor father and others went to look for nim, his death- "ike face upturned to the blue sky. "Speak to me, Thomas tpoik to me 1" wailed Alison, quite beside herself with re- mors* and and, as she knelt by him, wnag- ing handtk "(fk Thomas, speak to me I lowd yoilail thpthile." • Bo* Th uM s a w i lier spoke nor movea. The voice that had nothing but tender words for her was silenced now the heart she had so grieved might never beat in joy or sor rq.w agaitu ..â- - â-  ' • No person hfil see* or speken with IH« alter quitting her on the previous night, save the dressmaker, little, industrious MiM Ford. She had answered hi-t knock herselfj and h« put the naje into her kaad, saying Miss Reece had sfcked him to leave it in passing. "What a thick mist it is that has come on," he said to her in his pleasant, chatty way. "Ay, it is indeed, sir," «'»e »"• swered, and shut her door as he walked ftWftV For many weeks Alison Eeece lay ill with brain fever, hovering between lite and death. Some people said it was the shock that made her ill and took her senses away others thought she must have loved the poor young man to distraction no one, save her mother, knew it was the memory of htr last interview w.th him, and the scheming to sen! him on the route that ledjto the ac- cident, that had well-nigh killed her. Bat the ycungare strong in their tenacity of life, and she grew better by slow degrees. One warm April afternoon, when the win- ter months had given place to spring, Ali- son, leaning on the aim of her mother, went to sit in the porch. Sie was very feeble yet. It was the fiist time she had sat there since that memorable evening with her ill fated lover. There she remained, thinking and dreaming. They could not persuade her to come in, so wrapped her in a warm shawl. Sunset came on, and was almost as beauti- ful, curious, perhaps, that it should be so, as the one he and she had watched together more than six months before. The brilliant beams shone like molten gold in the glow- ing west, the blue sky around was flecked with pink and amethyst. Alison's eyes were fixed on the lovely scene with an enraptured gaze, her lips slightly paiting with emo- tion. "Alison, what are you thinking of " "Of him, mother. Of his happiness. He is living in all that glorious beauty. I think there must have been an unconscious pre- vision in his mind, by what he said that evening as we watched it, that he should soon be there. Oh, mother, I wish I was going to him 1 I wish I could be with him to-morrow," The mother paused; she felt in alined say something, but feared the agitation it might cause. "Well, well, child, you are getting better," she presently answered. " Yes, I do get better," s'ghed the girl. "I supposed it pleaded God that I should." "Time soothes all thing. AHscn. In time you will be strong again and able to fulfill life's various duties.with a zsst. Trials are goodâ€" Oil, so good !â€" for the soul. But for meeting with them we might never learn the way to heaven." Alison did not answer. Her feeble hands were clasped in silent prayer, her face was lifted to the glories of the evening sky. It was at the same sunset hour, an eveu- ing or two later, that Alison, who was pick- ing up strength daily, strolled away to the church- yard. She wanted to look for a new- made grave in that comer where so many of the Watkyns lay buried. She could not see it the same gravestones that were there before were there now there was no fresh one. "Perhaps they opened the old vault for him," thought Alison, as she sat down on the bench just inside the gate, for she was too weak to walk back again without a rest. The sun was going down to-night with- out any loveliness just a crimson ball, which seemed to give a red light to the at- mosphere, and to light up redly the face of a pale tottering man, who was coming up to the gate by help of a stick. He halted when he reached it. Aliscn turned sick and faint with all manner of emotion? as she gazed at him, fright being uppermost. " Alison " "Thomas?" He held out his hand he came iniide his pale sad face wore for her its old aweet e xpression. " Oh, Thomas.I thought you were dead," she buirst forth in a storm of sobs. "I came here to look for your grave. I thought I had killed you." " They thought I was dead at first they thought for a long while that I should die," he answered, as he sat down by her, keep- ing her hand in his. "But the skillful medical men have raised me up, under G)d. I hope in time to be strong and well again." "Can you ever forgive me 2" she wailed, bitter, painful tears falling down her cheeks like rain. '"I shall never fergive myself." "No? Then you must atone to me, Ali- son, instead. Be all the more loving to me during our future lives. We must pass them together, my dear." "Do you mean itâ€" still " she gasped. "0 Thomas 1 how good and true you are I If I can only be a little bit worthy of yon I" They walked home slowly, arm in arm. Neither could walk fast yet. Mrs. Reece came to the porch to meet them. God is full of mercy, she thought. "I did not tell her, Thomas," she said, " she was so dreadfully low when she came out of the fever. I meant to tell her to- night." " I have told her myself it was best so " answered Thomas Watkyn.â€" 27ie Argosy. ' Very Proper. An old maid from the country was visiting a city friend in wholb house was a telephone* Early one morning there was a call for her and the servant went to her room "Miss Jane," she sMd, "there's a call for you at the tdephone." "I'll be there id a minute." "Come now." "I'm not dressed." " You can't wait it's a gentleman and be 8 in a hurry." "A gentleman? Good heavens, then I won t move a step till I get on my oiothea ^°/.°V^^ Td^go dowS to that leSjkS and talk to a man without a dress on? I don t know what your city stylM may be. but I do know what is proper inthe eoimt^ and that mM can wait tiFl'm ready or nJt see me, that all." ' sfflcienftin qoantity, I %^naftiy|bnfc ' is very ImhI- 1. There #too innch about Clothing fpr Cold Weather. The ususi L«iiMt«n g( ^Jy dittribd.â€". the trunk, and too little about the lower ex toemities. If one-quarter of the heavy woollen overcoat or snawl were taken from the trunk, and wxapp«d about the legs, it ytoxM prove a gselaa gain. When we men ride in the cars, or in a sleigh, where do w^ suffer? About the logs and feet I When wvnen suffer from the cold, where is it It is ibout the legs and feet The legs ana feet axh down near the floor, where the cold currents of air move. The air is eo cold near the floor that all prudent moithers say, " Don't lie there, Peter get upi Jerusha Ann play on the sofa you will take your death of cold lying there en the floor," And thev are quite right. If the room be well ventilated, the air down near the floor is very much colder than it is up above our heads. And it is in that cold stratum of air that our feet and legs are con- stantly. A few Yankees put them on the mantel-shelf, but the majority keep their feet on the floor. B'esides this, the feet and legs, on account of their being so far away, and on account of their size, with the air all about them, are dbposed to be too cold, even without being in a colder atmosphere. Under all these circunHtances, men wear one thickness of wool and cotton and one thickness of black cloth about their legs, and three or four times as much about their chests and now they often add an immense pad called a "Chest Protector." And wo- men indulge in a still greater contrast. Daring the damp and cold season the legs should be encased in very thick knit woollen drawers, the feet in thick woollen stockings (which must be changed everyday), ml the shoe-soles must be as broad as the leet when fully spread, so that the blood shall have free passage. If the feet are squeezed in the least, the circulation is checked, and cold- ness IS inevitable. Thid free circulation can- not be secured by a loose upper witti a nar- row sole. If when the foot stands naked on a sheet of paper it measures three and a half inches, the sole must measure three and a half. I will suppose you have done all this faithfully, and yet your feet and legs are cold. Now add more woollen, or, if you are to travel much in the cars or in a sleiph, wear a pair of sheep-skin drawers. I have known a number of ladies afflicted with hot and aching head, and other evid- ence of congestion about the upper parts, who were completely relieved by a pair of sheep-skin drawers and broad-soled shoes. Three ladies in every four suffer from some congestion in the upper part of the body. It is felt in a fulness of the head, in sore throat, in palpitation of the heart, torpid liver, and in many other ways. It is well known that a hot footbath will relieve for the time being any and all of these difficul- ties. This bath draws the blood into the legs and feet, relieving tie congestion above. What the hot foot-bath does for an hour, the broad-soled shoes with thick woollen stockings, and a pair of flannel drawers, with a pair of wasn-leather drawers added, will do permanently. Of course I am speak- ing of cold weather. No one hesitates to multiply the clothing about the trunk. Why hesitate to increase the clothing about the legs? As a preventive of many common affections about the chest, throat, and head, including nasal catarrh, I know nothing so effective as abundant dress about the lower extremities. The bath is a good thing, exercise is a good thing, friction is a good thing but our main dependance in this climate must ever be warvn dothinrj. Already we overdo this about our trunks, but not, one person in ten wears too much clothing about the legs.â€" Dio Lewi's Monthly. The Fool. From Tourgeneflf's " Poetry in Prose.' There lived a fool in the world. For a long time he remained content and happy but slowly rumors reached him that every- where he was held to be a brainless idiot Grieved was the fool, and began to think how he could stop these slanders. A sud- den idea lightened his poor, darkened brain, and without delay he began to execute it. He met an acquaintance on the street, who praued highly a renowned painter. "Mercy 1" exclaimed the fool, "this paint- er is almost forgotten. Yon do not know that I did not expect to find you so naif. You are behind the time 1" His acquaintance blushed, and hurriedly agreed with the fool. "What a beautiful book I read to- day »" anotheracquaintancesaid to him, "Beg par Jon, are you not ashamed This aWonWt"'^°°""«^^"'^^^«^«°«^«° And this acquaintance also n-ade haste to quickly agree with the fool, ys"v^^A '*i??'jelou» man is my friend, N. ..A3^ .» ""d acquaintance to the fool. "Why 1" exclaimed the fool, "N N is known to be a scoundrel to have robbed it mr' "^^ "°' '""" iiZTl an?f® tl»ifd acquaintance did as the others, and forgot his friend. Whosoever or what! soever was praised in the presence of the .^l*- "^^ ""'y " "°" "ply, adding KSt^?:'"' "Andyou^be^ieveyef fn^ii^*""'®""' »P*ioo'» man I" began the "Ah h« .^"'J»t a tongue I" said others. AU, he IS a man of talent J" on;l!.^***t^ "*.*. P'jWUher's asking the fool to conteol the critical section of his taper ^d j!j^««^.*o Wuile everybody^^withS ^n^*n«w *?:P^««««'" or excliUtions And^ now he who inveighed so much against authorities is himself tt authSSy what ^/^K *** ""^^ ""•* ^^ hfm iSd il not ""' P""" y°°»' to do T If eVM SiUo^d'^^';.'""" â- P«^«?. to^rSip laii to do it here and vou will Im nmnn^^.^'j •tupid. FooUcannike^ei/S^v*^^ cowards.-2'Ae CenU^^ " *°°°« Matrimonial Mention. HiIk^^!^' ^J""" *^** 0" mutual fri«nd g^»erton. has married the wXw iSy! "S" "'• " 'he's worth $50,000." by h?fS?' ' «"" '"" Wa^t^i HOW mosaics^are" indeatructible ftcS!?^*« "i KDaCS AMOSG A One of the very few industries .t t, es. the manufacture of mosaic* Ih, ""n' tabhshment being under tl,!. ""8e»t « Church, and em^byed'atore? f the adornment of churches a„d'?.l^ u establishments. The ppoces, of J"8iou, picture in mosaic is very alow I ?*'"'8 i the highest order of skill r^^ '*1"'ft5 mosaic is made o| glaai.. and it.^!" '^. sists in Its being iudestruciible tI" «a- men in great pictures have biv, ""k- thiug over 27,000 shades of cSor!!" '°'"*- producs the lints requisite win ""' every color is necessary the slm °'°"" oil painting. To make a nictun. "' cess is this :-A nUte of S'of It' "â-  size u surrounded by a raiso^ "^^qiwed inch in height, A manic cement ^f*""' ed stone, lime, an I linseed S^tf^J^'^- the bottom of the plate and thf. *^°^^' with plaster pans t^ the fevft ^--^ Upon this the picture to be m^e "" fully drawn, and the mechaai^s wo I "' mences. He takes a piece of Z/^'!?" exact tint necessary and rits hTLJ^' grinding to get the shape. Then hel. ' one piece at a time, till the prctureTfi^T ed, then the face ground down to a"„ 'f^- ness, and the picture is set in it^pu?""^- Some of the greatest pictures uf ,n„ and modern times are in mosaic LT^'T with all the delicate shades b^nfj ""'• fully reproduced as in o.l'and h^^E being even greater. The ceilings of Lnl the great churches are entirely 'of 1^" well as many of the great alur piece^^;n^ other decorations. As thev arp nlf^f • destructible and never SHh^e^^C they are very much prized, A mtZt mosaic costs but then it is eternal, b^^ fare and earthquakes, "»rang All over Rome are small shops devoted to the manufacture of mosaic table toDs bnt covers, etc the workman toiling all his U^e on one subject. The man who commeao; on St, Peter 8, on tdble tops, or the Col^ seum, never does another subject, and hi becomes so skillful in this one subject that he 18 enabled to make them not only well but very cheaply He has only the tints tc manage that enter into the one picture aad he places them mechanically and 'verv ra.pily.â€" P. V.Nashy in Toledo Blade. m ».» m HOME DECORATIOSS. A fretty mat, intended for the top of a table, is made of drab felt. The edge is cut in sharp points between these points are placed soft little tassels made of high color- ed crewell. The border of the mat is made by working with gay embroidery silks any pattern which suits the fancy of the maker, The old-fasgioned cross-sticch, or jome modification of the feather-stitch, is pretty. A pretty chair-back is made of an antique lace stripe put over silk. Have the lace m the center and on the silk stripes ot the same width at each side embroider a pretty vine. This is lovely, made of the lace and blue silk, with sprays of small p nk buds, or of cardinal satin with daisies and batter- cups on it. The top is turned down and hemmed, and the bottom may be finished with lace, or be made ij points with a t^' sel on each point. A handsome panel for the wall is made o; a strip of black satin 15 inches long 7 inches wide. Oa this is embroidered iu silk a bunch of pinks. The top and bottom o: the panel are finished with bands of scarlet plush, about two inches wide. A brass wire is fastened to the top, and a silk cord to hang it by. On the bottom are tine silk balls of various shides of red. The panel should be lined with some material of suf- ficient body to keep it smooth. Another elegant* panelE is made of pale blue satin or plush, with a bird and nest painted on it in water colors. Table covkk. â€" Take sixteen blocks of cretonne one quarter square. Arrange them so there will be a landscape on each of the four comers. In putting the blocks together lay one edge over the other and sew. Line with Turkey-red cotton. Put black dress braid down each seam and across, also around the side of border next to blocks. Sew firm on each side of braid, feather-stitch braid with shaded yellow, red and groen embroidery [silk. Kinish the lower edge of border with narrow ball fringe. Tnis makes a lovely cover for most anything, and can be made smaller if desired, How Palmer's Friends Got a Drink. When track drivers get together they will have their fun. Djc Palmer, as ail know, progresses throujgh the world with an artifical leg. Some months ago Djc and a number of the boys found themselves in a Connecticut town. Hotel accommodations were decidedly precarious, and it was j ust Doc's luck to be quartered in a room meant to contain two, Dut affording shelter for half a dozen. Early in the morning the greater part of the party woke up^"^^ " coppers hot," and a diligent search failed to produce* enough Federal money to pay for the necessary refreshment. In canv-ass- ing the situation Doc Palmer's artificial leg came in the range of vision of the greatest wag of the party. Citching up the leg, the conspirators filed down stairs, leaving tne owner snoring in blissful ignorance of tne theft. Ranged along the bar, each man was quickly served with his favorite beverage. " How much do we owe you " mquirea the custodian of Doc Palmer's limb. "Two dollars and forty cents," was .ae reply. •' All right. We'll leave this with yon. and a man will come along 800°*°'^,^l^ you the money." So saying, he handed tne astonished barkeeper the leg* " Veiy well," said that worthy, wl^f^ J' had recovered his breath, "I Ruess taa^ good security." j By and by a stumping «onii ""p!imef on the stairs, and presently Doc t-iumw made his appearance. He went strwgn the bar and inquired for his «n'*f'?S.^i,e perty. Thescqual was, Doc settled, but '" boys gave him a wide berth until tey t-' siderml it safe to approach him. During a gale recently a part of the J of the Domininion Bridge Companya w" at lAchine, near Montreal, was blown ^J' oaonnff a tremendous crash. °'^,h.(ii« workmen were caoght in the ruins and » J injured, bat none were killed. ^utt, nmes. and laaeoti *^ ., fa ^kaage Col 4 V^ljddt out,!" «|d a natn ^^ZiuWBM about to sit do ^en plo"t chair An inve S^ronght to light a gre( ^t hue of the plush, coi •♦ PuU np another chair," oilier with a laugh. ^^f^e reporter picked his rtom, stepping on a hornei huddled close to some lurk; tag. only to find the back .ITi^nied bv a bright e occupiea uy ». Sonth Oatokna ght gr A third oied SontL ^as successful. i }j^o," said the naturalis ^th a microscope, "they h the Zaoogiotl' 'Garden i j^ve quite as good a dispL gnialler scale. The diffiou fgang the snake and anolis your stepping on the toad, of the success of my experim " If you bare ever thou, on the matter," be contini little carmine into a sea " you must have noticed tha there is a strong tendency t^ locality. This is especially aoXot, Ifpd often true as to fc gnab^ tiiat you came near perfect mimic of the i ich whiph it is found, and you v, peel its presence if you did 1 am confident that it can darker or lighter shades. ' had it on a light-gr*en cu.-hi minutes it adapted itself to almost invisible, and now y snmed an entirely different I "Is the change a physiolo " Not at all. We hare w^ concerning it. In the first many animals change their ment's not ce, especially fish Among the former the 6t c serranus, and dolphin are th able. In many this chan| made at the option of the fis true ot the rept les, and n rlonation. Here is a microbe a frog's skin. You see it distinct portions, the epideri is. The tormer is made u the latter contains nerves, t ties for ce'l elements. Thes with pigment or coloring i known as chromatophosea, a traction and expansion is du Tarious animals, for all, from them, differing in color in dii als and in vaiious parts oi t ferent cdois or degrees of ir cause a contractirn or expsn Thus, in the Gobins, the pig Ere yellow when disteude orange-colored hue when c the orarge or red cells wh- come brown or black, as thi Now, when a fish that babit white bottom pastes on to a change is conveyed by the e' and telegraphed, so to speak, eells by way of vhat aie ca thetic nerves, aud the chanj " How do we know this ' blind fish pass from one col another. In such a case thi at all. The eye is the mec is probably no intelligent the part of the animal that been made. The experiment pathetic nerves are very ri entting one a fish has been on one side and stripped on in fact, the ccloring is at skilled anatomist. The ano; Southern lizard, that stcr place of the chameleon, is th ;nl in its power of chang nc ing itself to a variety of l-ues " But probably the most are those that imitaie other mala in form. Here,' he co out a large steel engraving, to our Ixjphius that was Challenger en her famous tri is all covered with baibels of actly resemble seaweed, hot color, and when clinging to perfectly invisible £0 to Epea onr fishes are equally protec tea horse that has recently in Australian waters. It tail, and clings like a ringta the seaweed, and from its b intervals these long, pinkish exact in their imitation of 1 Weed, Other sea horses hav ornaments tiiat look like fine era, and so escape detection. "Among insects there i striking examples. Here tliat I received from China, forms Bae that when arousel ?aall shrew, so that birds th 't suddenly draw off, when creature stops and raises its i pears to lengthen out and w ferocious aspect. Many ii •eaves and sticks, and one Pmk orchid that it is with autinguiahed from the flowei jenw from large enemies, bu It for a flower come near i •0 that its mimicry serves t **«y and a protection. 'Among moths the cases ftften perfect, and I have s^ itteotly in front of me and Pjjoeive them for a few m Wle moths of the genus a ^kable for their imitation "••ties and various plants. ^e beautif uliy frayed and sil ^e tumbling and rolling ^onally gently alighting •^ you would almost alwayi «B innocent down of some rj^ Wonderful insect mimic Wed butterfiy. When outt JS mght it is very conspicu Ifte bushes it frequents, 7^. H finds perfect protec J^^wiMSO to the flowers. I ^*o have been pursuing it ^~^ «* its disappearanc *J fingers. In India there 2* ^W exact in their imita !* «»vefc Not only is the Zl*« â- pots of mildew that ^U certain times. lJ^ is a lizard," the i ^^ "taking down a sped '•'^•d in alcohol, "and h r

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