By CHARLES GARVICE
He enters the room as the maid
carriers <n something under a dish
cover, the table is spread (frith a
white cloth; dinner—what mockery
it seems —is ready. The sight of the
dinner reminds him that George hab
not, and will not dine today, and he
is about to run out and stop him,
when he hears the clatter of a horse's
hoofs, and, looking out the window, he
is just in time to see George steer
ing the bay horse down the street.
The next moment there is a soft
rustle behind him. and Verona enters.
Hal's heart arises as he looks at
her. Take her bark' not he! not
while he has a strong right arm to
hold her shall the wrest her from
him. If she has ever looked lovely
In her life she looks lovely now, her
dark .-yes shining, melting, rather, in
loving triithnilness, as she comes
in. blushing and smiling, and yet
with toe high-brrd calm and compo-*
sure which are her birthrights.
Ha) would like to take her in his
arms, but the maid is in the room,
and, instead, he is forced to put the
‘ Are you hungry?"
' Yes. very,” she says, candidly.
“And are you comfortable — are they
kind?;’ inquires Hal. anxiously.
"Very—very kind," she answer*'.
“They could not be more so If I
were ojie of their own daughters.
And where have you been?”
Hal looks down.
• Never mind," he says; "I will tell
you directly. Let us have ome din
ner. Oil! are you going to sit all
that way off?" for Verona has tuk* n
a seat at rhe bottom of the table
“Ye-s," she says, with a smile. "And
see, herp is a fowl."
"And I’ve got some trout,” says
Hal. "Happy augury! Let me give
you some trout."
"As you did weeks —was It weeks
or years ago?" murmurs she.
They were both hungry; they are
young ami in good health, and have
had a long ride. The trout Is cooked
to perfection, so is the fowl; and
when the maid brings in apricot
tart, Hal’s satisfaction if unbounded.
Suddenly Verona says; "Where is
“George?" says Hal, blankly, but he
is spared from explaining, for the next
moment Verona (lies to the window.
“Ixiok, there’s a peacock! What a
beauty! What a splendid tail!"
Then she comes hack, and, yield
ing to Hal’s entreaties, sips a little
of the red win*' which he has ordered.
"Well,” says Hal, "and how do you
like the Inn?"
"Oh, it is beautiful," she answers,
"and it Is larger than It looks There
is a hack to it, quite a large back.
And there is a balcony running
around the back, to which you as
cend by some wooden steps. Just as
you do in the Swiss houses."
I've never been to Switzerland;
but w. ’ll go, we’ll go nil over t,he
world, darling." he adds; "that is, ir
Vqrona looks down.
"I should like to go to England " I
"So you shall, my darling,” said
Hal. 'There's no place like Eng
land. after all. Here's a health to
merry England." and he lifts his
iu all his affected gayety she—
love's eyes are keen—sees beneath
the mask, and as they stand side by
side by the window, she puts up her
hand on his shoulder and looks at
"What is the matter?" she asks,
with a little flickering smile.
"Matter?" says the conscience
stricken Hal, "nothing! ixiok! there
is the sun going down!"
She turns her head and looks as
hidden, but presently her eyes come
back to his face.
"Where is George?" she asks again.
"George." says Hal. hesitating,
"George is all right Gome, darling,
you ace not afraid, you are not un
"I afraid! No! not when you are
near," she says, in the simple lan
gvnge of love and her head sinks
u >on his tireast.
Ha! presses his lips on the silken
hair, ami kisses her passionately;
hut from his heart arises the cry;
The sun -the same sun which
shines upon the dinner-table ap which
Hal aud Verona are sealed—the sun
is setting behind the Koing's Gastle,
and sending its red rays Into Jeanne's
boudoir. The day has been hot, al
most as hot as midsummer, and has
been trying and exhausting iu other!
For one thing, it has been a day
of exodus. Four fifths of the guests
have taken their departure; gone is
the member of Parliament, gone are
half-a-lozen other notabilities, amt
Jeanne has, in the course of her du
ties, had to superintend their depart
ure and wish them good speed
Of all the guest, that crowded the
Koing Sehloss. only Nugent, ljulv
Lucelle. Beii and the l-anilitons re
main Yes. there is one other. Clar
ence lame. H ; s time has been up
this week past, but. under one ex
cuse or another, he has lingered on
A word has done It; he would have
gone this morning but for that word
from Lady Lucelle. And !.ady Lu
nelle is in her boudoir and Mvirie Is
at her elbow.
It wants two minutes and o half
of dinner time, but her ladyship is’
exhausted, making so many adleux,
ar.d she lies back with half-closed
eyelids, upon the satin couch, listen
ing to Maritas chatter —Marie chat
terg of everything, anything, and my
lady listens listlessly. Hut suddenly
Lady Lucelle becomes all attention.
“And Master Hal," says Marie,
"Master Hal has gone out with the
grays, a thing he is not accustomed
to doing! ah, no! He hates the grays!
But the bays, they are gone to the
blacksmith's. And Master Hal he
has gone to shoot eagles!"
"To shoot eagles!” says Ijdy Lu
celle. on the alert; "nonsense!”
“That is what George—” and at
the name pretty Marie’s teeth shut
close, "that is what that villain says!"
“He—does not t leak the truth,' - '
says Lady Lucelle; "no one but an
idiot would go to shoot anything on
such a day as this. There is not a
bird to be seen.”
“And he has taken the Iwo grays,
my lady!” says Marie, eagerly, "and
that Scoundrel George has gone with
Lady Lucelle sits bolt upright
"Marie," she says, "you are afoot!
There i s more in ft.ls than you think.
Taken the grays, aud the bays miss
ing. and gone to shoot eagles! Bah!
Give me my wrap, and do you go
down to your friend —the spy, I mean
—and find out where the hays are;
and wait." she added, as her obedi
ent Marie was leaving the room,
"see if the count is here.”
Marie dosed the door after her,
and sped on her errand, aud Lady
Lucelle stepped lightly to the look
"No. my young friend,” she mur
mured. "Shooting eagles, or anything
! else, will not deceive me. If you
have the grays, and the bays are
missing, something is in the wind.
Shooting eagles, indeed! 1 wonder—"
So suddenly did an idea enter Lady
Lueelle'* head that she started.
“I have it!" sue cried, Hushing;
"the foolish hoy has run off with
It was not an Idea, It was an in
spiration. Suddenly her subtle brain
went to work. Which course shouid
she take ? Should she communicate
her suspicions to the count, or Vane,
or institute a pursuit, or—wait.
Without knowing it, the countess
has'arrived at the most critical mo
ment of her by no means eventless
life. Without knowing it she stands
upon the brink of a crisis which de
pends for its issue upon the simple
She decides to wait, has decided
before Marie comes in, all eager to
relate that Ned can tell her no more
than he has already told her, but
that he also is suspicious.
I Lady Luo-llt- smiles.
"It is nothing. ( have no doubt.”
she says, easily. "Very likely, after
all, Mr. Bertram has gone to shoot
—or try to shoot. Say no more
about it to any one—and you can
tell your suspicious friend to retain
his suspicions within his own heart.'
Slightly confused by the change in
the wind, Marie goes down again,
and w hile she is gone Lady Lucetle,
with her own hands, begins to dress
As she enters the drawing-room a
voice singing -Sweethearts'' in a
very high key, strikes upon her ear,
and she smiles.
At toe piano is seated Maud: be
side her, beating time gently with
his white- hand, is the count, his
usual smile wrinkling his face, his
little ey es fixed admiringly on Maud's
somewhat distorted fart-. It ig not
given to every one to look prepos
sessing when they sing, and Maud's
face does not look any better tor a
wide open mouth.
lauiy Lueelle watches the pair with
keen enjoyment, and wonders 1! rue
count would stand listening to "Sweet
hearts' with,unite such an absorbed
attention if he guessed, as she does,
that his bride-elect is at this mo
ment running away with another and
Without disturbing the pair, she
goes out again and looks in at the
in one corner sits Charlie Nugent,
smoking a huge Bengal cheroot, on
tne other is Mr. I atm b ton. putting a
"Oh!" Says Udy Lueelle. holding
her iace handkerchief to her delicate
nostrils, and just before dinner too."
"It is for an appetite. Lady Lit
telle' calls out Nugent, composedly.
"We'll put them out if you'll come
and play ."
But she shakes b r head she wants
to find out if Hal has returned and
with a light laugh goes on her way
Stopping at a window, she i,*d 4s ou(
and setts a solitary figure pacing up
and down with hurried, restless
strides, his Hands behind him, his
head bent—lt is Clarence. Again l ad'
"Where is Jeanne. 1 wonder?" she
sfi's "(evidently somewhere he can't
Set near her. or he wouldn't he there
'VI,v is it in.lv make such fools of
themselves when they are iu love?
Women don't’" And with this ab
struse problem site moves on to the
upper corridor again, but stop* sud
denly with a quick flush. Very pale
and haggard, he looks like a man
that has some matter of life an,)
death on his mind. laid. Lueelle
"Shall j stop and speak to him’
she asks herself, wistfully "So. he
has avoided me of late—better not.
fCi him seek me—he may have to
do t and so she goes on.
Vane strides across the hall, gh.nees
into the drawing room, just i.s fatly
Lueelle halts above, ami goes into
the billiard room
Nugent looks up. and. obeying a
look rather than a gesture of Vane's,
rise*. pitches his cheroot aside, and
follows him up to his studio.
"What Is It, old man?” he asks, as
he closes the door after hint
Vane paces up and down tor a mo
ment in sileDce, at last he stops,
and looks at Nugent with a face so
marked by anxiety and care that
"Charlie." he says, in a low voice,
”1 must go back; I can’t stand 'bis
any longer. 1 fancied 1 could remain
until our lime was up; I believed, I
wanted to believe, in your assistance,
your emphatic assertion, of my—of
Jeanne’s purity and innocence, even
in thought; 1 can believe it no longer
—stop!" for Charlie had staited for
ward. pale as himself. "Do not mds
uuderstand me; 1 believe she is pure
in act and deed, but I cannot trust
her to herself any longer. Don't ask
me what I have seen—yes, 1 will
tell you. 1 saw Clarence kiss her
hand; 1 hear*c his voice, low passion
ate, troubled as mine—Heaven help
me —used to be! I will wait no longer.
Charlie, I uxust —1 must take her
back to England with me tomorrow:”
•’Right! Quite right!” says Nugent.
"But still, nothing shall persuade me
that such cause as you 'believe ex
ists. Mind that! But you arc- quite
right to go. And what can 1 an—
and 1 explain to tire i>ec>ple that re
main—shall I send them away? I'll
tel! them important business has
caled*you home, that I.aOy Jeanne
must go with you; and I’ll take ’et#
to the abbey, the whole Piling o.
them, if you like."
Vane holds out his hand.
“I knew I could rely on you. Char
lie, best and dearest friend. Do as
you think best; make the best ex
cuse you can, iiiul let. them remain
here as your guests, if they, and you,
like. Candidly, this evening lam al
most beieft of my senses. If I was
Indifferent, if 1 did not care tor her,
I could not take her away, send her
away, put a bullet through him, do
anything easily. But, Charlie, I love
her! I lov t her as madly as in the
old days before our marriage, as in
in the old days before we parted—”
"Parted!” echoes Charlie.
“Yes, parted.” repeated Vane. “We
have been parted sinee our wedding
day. Don't ask me any questions; I
cannot tell any more; parted, yes.
parted, as far asunder as if an ocean
divided us. Think of that! Remem
ber that 1 love her nvadly, and that
her beauty, her sweet fare, sw r eet and
bewitching, as you know, draws me
on to love her more dearly eveijy
day. And parted. .There, Charlie, 1
am scarcely myself tonight.”
“You look It, old man," says Nu
gent. laying his hand upon Vane's
"Your hand is on fire."
“It is my heart.” retorts Van®, al
most wildly, "and I am full of fan
cies and pri'.entiments. Fancy me
being so superstitious. For the last
two days I have had a dread of
something intangible going to hap
pen. Tonight it hangs upon me like
a cloud I hate the place, the very
air, the castle, everything about it.
Yes, we’ll go tomorrow, and take her
Nugent nods. What can he do?
“Right you are. Vane. Shall 1 say
“When you like—no. better wait
until the morning, my being busy
wit; be an excuse for your explaining
instead of tne.”
Nugent goes out without another
word, his heart wrung for his friend;
not five yards has he gone when he
meets (Clarence coming languidly up
For a moil, nt Nugent feels Inclined
to seize him and fling him out o(
tlie window, bift he controls himself
and, instead, lays his hand upon
“Lane, h- says, sharply.
Clarence looks up,
"Aren't you tired of hanging and
dwadling ftlanit? Why the devil don'l
you go to Norway—Sweden—or wher
ever you said you were going?"
Clarence starts and redden* angrily,
"What do you mean, i.ord Nugent
Why should 1 go?"
“Do you want to ask me?" says
Nugent, sternly. "Don't be a foot,
Chilli me. I don't want to quarrei
with yen, and if I am to answer your
<('’.estl<>n I should do so. We under
stand each other. What good can
your staying do yourself—or others?"
Clarence turns pale and hangs his
head, biting his lipsi irresolutely. Sud
denly he looks up:
“Nugent, you are right." he says
hoarsely: "I do understand you. I can
do no good, and nothing but harm
to myself. You are right! I will go'
Nugent holds out his hand
"Spoken like a man’" he savs
Clarence makes a great effort.
"Without any fuss?"
Without a word to a soul,” he u
Shake hands." tays Nugent: “you
are not quite lost. Clarence. Then no
more words; as yon say. we under
stand each other; tonight.*
tonight." says Clarence, and be
losses on. pale ami agitated.
This little mom. ntous conference
has taken place outsit t> the door of
the apartment that goes by the name
' the ladles' room- a kind of bou
doir common to all the ladies who
may wr iu a place of refuge on wet
day It is seldom used, however, and
if is only bv chance that I*,!* Lu
velle happens to be tn It. behind the
nearly dosed door, at this moment
vJf* ** ha " th <‘ two men's 1
'<he*. she heard every word, and i
Os t bai lie goes down the stairs she
rt.ps out. and took, after him with
an evil smile
Altrays t U „ a> -. Ris stra
* it is always so. And now he has
'vrested , hat weak fool out
cW °r h ° Vou are
r ,J ° rd Char, ' s Hamilton
;7"- n "HI need an
hlvness! And so the love-smitten
UaretKo g,-x tonight! Then there is
no time to be lost
Te„ minutes afterward Van., ring,
•he studio bell, and Willis Rwi ., in
his usual noiseless fashion
“ tto nd find Mrs Fleming, and
teii her to ask her ladyship ff I can
f it- her for a few minutes.”
■ Willis disappears, and returns al
"Her ladyship will come down to
you immediately, m, lord."
Five minutes afterward, there is a
gentle knock at the door, and Jeanne
She is dressed perfectly, superbly.
Art has has none its utmost us the
handmaid to nature, aad she looks to
bro*—with the weary, restless spirit
whose heart is eaten by the wasteful
craving of unrequited love—like some
exquisite vision which the old paint
ers used to catch and imprison on
their canvas. For a moment ne is
silent; then, as he rises and looks
at her, standing so easily, gracefully,
clasping a diamond bracelet at her
wrist, his tortured heart aches again.
"1 did not wLs-h to trouble you to
come to me,” he says, in a low \ nice
"1 would have com*- to you."
‘lt s of no consequence,” says
Jeanne, ift the measured tone in
which she always speaks to him, In
which she conceals and disguises the
wistful craving on her part. There
they stand, divided bv un evil wo
mans spite, a word from either and
fbe guif is bridged—a wont —nay, a
look, a touch; and yet that word,
that touch, cannot be giveu, and the
ocean rolls coldly between them.
it is of no consequence,” ghe
rays; "1 was nearly dressed. You
I wanted to tell you that I must
go to England tomorrow.”
She looks op with faint surprise,
nothing more—as yet.
4,0 ? oon?” she says. “Is there
anything the matter? Have vou heard
bad nt s?"
‘No. he says, with drooped head
heard no had news.”
VVhat time do you start" she
aciks. "What an j do for you?”
He looks up quickly, watchfully,
"1 am not going alone, he’ savs
t wish you to go with me."
she says, and the tolor leaves
ner far,; as she thi.fks of Hal and
the“L, he (Van *' knows n bing of
the res > ‘“use; he sees the sudden
Pallor and thin** it , 8 because she
is leaving Clarence, and he. too, turns
"Yes,” he says, almost fiercely.
"Why should I go alone? Why shbuid
I leave you here? Do you object—do
you refuse to accompany me?"
Jeanne, still pale, gazus at him
with a surprise which lie deems
leign and unreal.
"1 object—refuse?” she echoes, in
a low voice. “Why should I?”
Vou may be acquainted with the
reason if there is any,” he says,
haughtily, scanning her face.
It falls and crimsons.
He knows all about Hal and Ve-
I S s a ad" and 13 Bngrv wi,h he
"There are some reasons, then’"
he aemands, in a suppressed voice
•No. she says. witJi a pause, "tinre
TdisT We ‘* ht> ' 'atl me
to disobey you. | shall be ready at
any hour you name."
"Good. - he says, curtly. “We start
a* one o’clock.”
Jeanne inclines her head
1 shal! b e ready,” and she turns
”a,v, but pauses at the door. “And
our gi.ests—do they know—are thev
fhey are dCposed of,’ U (; says
b,tterly. thinking of only one. • Sav
iS ,to r,ef<i Nugent
• ni b* hosi fn our absence.”
To lie continued.
ON THE WAY
Plant the seeds of kindness whets- vou
Keep the note of courage always in
Though the fates may drive you 01-
whml iiiy by- day.
Spread the cheerful gospel as vou go
Plant the seeds of friendship every
where you go,
In the days that follow they will
grow and grow.
Ptea, h ,h> creed of good-will ali
along the way,
Vtm may be returning from defeat
BIG FIND OF AMBERGRIS.
To prek np fSO.OOd worth of amber
gris in the St. Igiwrenee river was
the Fuck of a Manchester painter
while he was on a Ashing frfp fn Can
ada last fall. The man who did not
give his name called at the State
Laboratory i n Concord yesterday and
learned from State Chemist Howard
the value of the substance.
\\ ith hi s br o ,[,c r the painter was out
on the St. Lawrenre one afternoon
when they saw a strange gray ohjeet
in the water. Thinking it was an
animal they fired two shots at it and
then hauled it into the boat The sub
staneoweighed about 38 pounds
Unaware of its value the finder took
the ambergris to Boston and was
olft red a small sum for five ot six
pounds of It by a man who was in
tere.-.ted in the find The painter re
fused the offer and returned to Man
chester. and so the matter rested for
a while. He was finally advised to go
to the State laboratory. and did so
yesterday.—Manchester <N H.j Cor.
New York Sun.
THE COST OF LIVING.
It is rumored at Pittsburg that the
steel trust is planning to sell direct
to the consumer Perhaps it has
been impressed by the stories now in
circulation concerning the wonderful j
profits enjoyed by the middlemen
New Orleans Times-Detjiocrat.
The amount of ham tnat gets into
some restaurants' sandwiches looks
like a feeble, vacillating effort to
join the meat boycott.—Washington !
The Tech professors whose salaries
are "ridiculously inadequate" for
them to marry on might give a sci
entific exposition of the marrying
WHIT I HEN SAYS
WHEN SHE TUB
FRENCH SAVANT DISCOVERS
THAT WHEN SHE TALKS
When a hen says "Krah-krah krah,”
or anything, she has been in mis
chief, according to a recent scientific
report, pays the Kansas City Star.
When she says nothing the case is
the same, but silence mitigates the
M. Gera’.d of Paris, after experi
menting with a phonograph and birds
of high and low degree, concludes
that fowls have a language adapted
not only to expressing all the emo
tions of which chickens are capable,
but that they communicate intelli
gence of interest to one another.
The language of the hen may never
displace Esperanto as the medium of
cranks and reformers—unless some
benevolent crank undertakes to re
form the predatory suburban fowl—
but a stuuv of hen talk may inter
est the gardener, the savant and the
The French savant recorded the
sounds he heard in the barnyard, the
garden and in the fields, all under
varying circumstances, and when the
voices were reproduced in the pres
ence of the hen folks the puzzled
biddies exhibited all the signs of an
ger, fear, complaint, caution, curios
ity. affection and destructiveness. A
gardener, whose little place has been
the scene of the dialogues reproduced,
and who was present at the demon
strations. exhibited signs of anger,
I but none of affection.
Many persons have wondered what
the hen means when she struts about
the yard and sings “Krah-catuk-ca
tuk.” Tbe phonograph has made it
clear. Reproduce that sound on the
phonograph and the hens will boldly
attack the most promising cockerel
in the flock: then they will proceed
to make curious marks like t’ne let
ter X in any flower bed that chances
to be convenient. The first word of
the phrase is simply an exclamation
of indignation and defiance. The sec
ond word means “Votes for ladies!”
and the third is a rer'tition of the
phrase to give it emphasis. The hi
eroglyphics are self explanatory. The
hens of New Zealand and four Amer
ican States never exhibit this curious
“Cut-cut cut-ca-dah-cut” means that
the hen has just laid, or lied. In the
estimation of one observer, the hen
quadruples the “cuts" when she re
flects that her effort has merely
served the purpose of the egg trust,
and there is the tradition current
on the farm to the effect that the
cackling hens sing “Lay-lay-Tay and
go-barefoot,” but these interpreta
tions are probably fanciful and cer
Reproduce tbe “weet-weet” record
and every broody hen will proceed
to hover the first hoverable object
she encounters. When a hen sees an
incubator the first time she utters an
guttural sound that may be written
"Quh-quah-quah!"’ The human equiva
lent occurs in some of Senator Til!
man’s appreciations of the party in
It is quite likely that some of the
sounds, and their effect on the fowls,
have been misinterpreted. It Is con
ceivable that a savant may have
chanced upon a flock of fowls in the
act of destroying a garden at fhe
moment that tbe gardener became
aware of the spoliation, and In such
a case the confusion of sounds would
produce an unintelligible record.
Shrubs and flowers
Many people make a careful selec
tion’ of their flowers and shrubs from
fioe nursery aud seed catalogues, but
fail to consider as carefully where
these beautiful things are to go. No
thing is thought out, no plans are
made, and the result is that half the
beauty of the result is lost. Where
to plant Is just as important as what
to plant, sometimes more so. Never
plant shrubs, flowers, anything in the
middle of the lawn. It dwarfs the
place and spoils ali artistic effect.
The place where the house founda
tion meets the lawn is a harsh, ugly
line. Plant something around the
house close to the foundation. The
view- under the front porch Is not
pleasing: plant something to hide it.
The weekly wash and other things
seen in the back yard do not flf* the
soul with esthetic joy. Therefore
plant a screen from the back of the
house to the fence on each side The
division fences are ugly, so plant
something along them to hide them,
at least partly. Square corners are
not p’easing. so plant in them to
round tlhem off. Plants are dead
during seven months of the year:
partly conceal and lave pleasing
shapes even in winter, so use shrubs
for this planting If there is any
thing ugly or unsightly which can
not be gotten rid of. plant it out
Study and patience is required to
decide wihat to grow that will be
worth while under adverse soil con
ditions. Here is a list of vegetables
that have been found to be profita
ble to grow- under such conditions as
surround the vacant lot in the city,
or the back yard They are giveu
in order of their merit; First, round
red radishes, but sow not more than
fifteen feet of row at one time or
there will be more than can be dis
posed of Second leaf lettuce, nota
bly the variety- known as Hanson.
Make sowing a mouth apart. Next.
tomatoes, using t&e plants to set out.
Prune them when a good crop ot
fruit is set so they will ripen. Next,
beets. Instead of eating alt the
green which you get by thinning out
the rows, when they are two or
three inches high, transplant them
to where radikhes grew, but cut off
most of the top first or hey will
not survive. Waxbeans, especially
Wardwell's Kidney, will outyield ail
others and may be planted again and
again until six weeks before frost Is
I due. Tbe early kinds of corn should
be planted In a big enough patch so
tbe grains will be pollenized. Cab
bage-may be grown, and If the soil
has been worked a year or two be
fore, plant parsnips, vegetable oyster
and carrots for the winter. Keep the
soil worked loose, don’t let weeds
grow and give th ? plants room
A novelty in the garden is to plant
a section devoted to fragrant flowers.
Not many varieties are required and
they are not costly. The strongest
is the tuberose. If a dozen or more
are planted they will bloom at dif
ferent times, sometimes blossoming
just before frost comes. They should
be planted with the tops out and all
tbe small bulblets broken off first.
Heliotrope and lemon verbena are
both delightful in fragrance and so
is the rose geranium, or fish-tail ger
anium as it is sometimes called.
These are plants that must be ob
tained from the florist or from seeds
men who deal in plants. Sweet alys
sum is also very fragrant and the
dwarf varieties make a most satis
factory border. Four o'clocks. also
called “the marvel of Peru” and pe
tunias are easily obtained and easily
grown and both fill the air with tneir
fragrance, the latter especially so.
Towards evening the “true Englisn
lavender” if the plant is obtainable,
gives off a fragrance which most peo
ple would find it hard to recognize.
In most cases one or two of the va
rieties named will be sufficient to
add a distinct perfume to the gar
den of fragrance, and ail these vari
eties add beutv to the garden.
Nasturtiums are grown not only
for their bright, showy flowers, but
also for their peppery leaves, which
may be used like cress for salads
and sandwiches. The pods and seeds
are used for pickle and the tubers
of many species are edible. Botn
tall and dwarf nasturtiums should be
grown in warm sunny places. They
require a fairiy moist situation. If
very early effects are desired the
seed may be sown indoors in boxes
and the young plants set out when
all danger of frost is over. F“or or
dinary beds the seed are sown in the
place they are to grow and a few
Weeks after they are sown, blossoms
are produced which continue until a
hard frost comes. There Is an end
less profusion of blooms. The com
mon varieties may be classed in two
groups—the dwarf or bedding varie
ties are very compact forming small,
dense bushes which are fairly hid
den by flowers 1 of ail shades of red
and yellow. The climbing varieties
(Tropaeolium majus) are luxurious,
climbers for verandas and trellises.
They are very useful in covering un
sightly- fences or to trail over ugly
ground, or for covering banks and
LEFT-HANDERS WITH CONTROL.
Wiltse. Piank and “Doc” White Good
in That Respect Last Season.
It is a common expression in base
tail that when a port-side pitches goes
through a game with one or two base-s
on balls, “he had good control for a
left-hander.” Asa matter of fact,
when it comes town to that, there are
some left-handers, and not by any
means, a striking scarcity of them,
who have quite as good control, day
in and day out, as some right-handers.
There aren’t any southpaws who have
as good control as Mathewson, but
Mat hew *son has exceptionally good
control among right or left-handers.
The two left-handed pitchers who
have been in the box for the High
landers this season have put the ball
over tbe plate as well as any right
handers, those two being Vaughan arta
Frill. Vaughan has shown noticeably
Another lelt-hander whose control
is Peatsiy always to. spiieuously gooa.
for a right or left hander, is Wiltse of
the giants. Control is his long suit.
Plank oi the athletics is a left-hand
er who has control as a rule, and so
has Hoc White of the white sox.
Among the left handers of the olden
nays, "laidy Baldwin was possessed
of effective command of the hail.
Wildness was not among his faults,
while Matt Kilrov had fine control,
and Ed Morris knew how to and could
put the ball where he wanted to.
It must be conceded, however, that
tne very best control is shown by the
right-handed pitchers. Also among
the pitchers who did' the most work
last year two or three left-handers
"ere conspicuous by the number of
balls they issued. There was Killian
ot the Tigers, for instance. In 17b
innings, about 19 games he gave
4? passes to first, which Is an average
of nearly three strolls a game. "Nap’
Rucker of the Brooklyns gave 101
bases on balls in 38 games last yeai.
which was almost three a game.
Three bases on balls a game doesn’t
seem so veity many when you come
to think of it, not enough to harp
on wildness, yet Ruoker. next to Kil
lian gave more bases on balls a game
than any leading big league left-hand
er except Killian and Karger.
Mattern of the Boston doves in 47 .
games dispensed 101 promenades to 1
first base Letfietd of the Pittsburgh
gale only 54 in 32 games. Lush of
the cardinals provided 89 walks in 3a
games. in 275 innings, about 30
games, last year Plank walked bat
ters 82 timee, an average of a frac
tion over two. Waddell in 22> Lin
ings named slfghtir over two meu
a game Krause of the Athletics av
eraged over two a game. 19 walks in
220 innings. Kiiiiam averaged close
to three a game. White less than two.
end Karger. who was the -‘wildest" ot
any of the leading southpaws, ovei
three. Karger gave 22 bases on balls
in 6s innings. By comparison, the
vork of several of the promine.v
right-handers is given. Mathew on
distributed only 36 bases on balls In
37 games. Brown gave 53 in 50
games, aveiaging slightly over one a
game to “Matty’s" less than one.
Canmitz gave 68 bases in 41 games.
Smith of the white sox gave 70 bases
on balls in 365 innings; Mu’lin of the
Detroits 78 in 303 innings, and Young
of the Clevelands 59 in 295 innings.
PRICE OF GAS tN ENGLAND.
Consular Reports.—ln spite of econ
omies in the consumption of gas for
lighting purposes, the evergrowing
competition of electricity for light and
power, and the introduction of numer
ous producer ga s plants in large fac
tories, the average rate of increase in
the output of gas in Great Britain was
still more than double the rate of in
crease of the population. The capital
employed by the Birmingham gas de
partment is $14,156,648; the coal car
bonized last year was 572,000 tons,
and 'he oil used amounted to 2,579,000
gallons. The price of gaj per 1,000
cubic feet in the folowing cities is a .
follows; Birmingham, 23.9 pence (47.8
cents); Glasgow, 27.7 pence (55 4
cents); Manchester, 27.4 pence (54108
cents); Sheffield, 15 pence (30 cents);
Nottingham, 30,3 pence (60.6 cents);
Leeds. 24.8 pence (49.6 cents). Shef
field, being near fhe mines, had the
advantage of buying coal cheaply, but
Widnes was even lower price—-Is (24
cents) per 1,000 cubic feet.
Street lighting and the illumination
of large rooms was accomplished most
effectively by high pressure gas in
burners of special construction fitted
with strong mantels. There haj been
considerable development along this
line during the last five years, it
would have been much greater had It
not been for the addiConal expense
entailed by the erection of compress
ing plants for the different instalia
tlons. When high pressure gas was
supplied from the gas works in spe
cial mains, such as are now being laid
in Birmingham and some other towns,
no extra outlay on the consumers
part was necessary; and he was thus
able to derive immediate benefit, w hile
the streets had the full advantage.
The best type of high pressure burner
had an efficiency of 60 candies per
cubic foot; that was three times as
much as the ordinary burner. The
pressure of gas required was about
50 inches (water gage), or two pounds
per square inch. The cost of gas at
only 2 1 (48 cents)per 1,000 cubic feet
(assuming a lower price for gas in
bulk) was thus only 0.40 of a penny
(O.SO cent) per 1.000 candle hours. To
equal that figure of electricity must be
supplied with flame arcs (effllciency
three candles p( r watt) at l%d (2*£
cents) per unit.
So successful had high pressure ga.,
proved itself for syeet lighting that
electric arc lighting already installed
had, in a large measure, to give way
to it. Berlin, which was looked upon
as the foremost city in Europe in the
matter of street illum’nation. had de
cided in favor of the inverted hign
pressure gas lamp, and it would ap
pear that London was going to follow
suit, judging from the fact that a dep
utation of the streets committee, after
visiting and carefully examining the
systems of lighting in some of the
principal continental cities, recom
mended, in July last, that high pres
sure incandesoent gas lamps with in
verted burners should be adopted as
the illuniinant, but that where gas is
impracticable, electricity with open
arc and flame arc lamps should be in
Vaudevil.e and Easeball.
Listen, you fans who go to see Na
tional league games! Remember, last
year, the punk attendance at most or
the parent league parks after it was
shown that the Pirates had the pen
nant cinched? The coming season
that league is to play IBS games, in
stead of 154, as in the past. If it hap
pens to be a runaway in 1910—and it
looks now as if it will be—who is go
ing to make up the crowds to see. sav,
the last 25 games at most of the
league parks? I can't even guess.
Can you? Possibly, since most or the
magnates have gone into night shows
at their grounds to help swell the ex
chequer. a little vaudeville thrown in
might help a little. For instance, a
nice game detween, well, let's say
St.. Igyuis and Boston for second divi
sion honors mead or tail is imma
terial) might not draw or tail is imtra
but put in De Wolf Hopper to do
‘Casev at the Bat" between innings
one and two. Mike Donlin and Mabel
Hite in their sketch between innings
five and six. and Bozeman Bulger's
skit just before the fatal ninth, to
hold the bunch for. the last raids of
the peanut men. and the attendance
might be pretty fair. This suggestion
is not copyrighted —E. A Goewev in
Rings for Divorcee.
Ihe latest jewelry novelty iu Ger
many is a special type of ring for di
vorced and widowed persons. The
claims set forth for these curious in
novations in rings are that thev save j
the wearers, especially the feminine |
>ex, from embarrassing or painful ex-1
Planations. and delicately inform other I
interested persons of their rtream-l
The design* are but slightly differ-1
ent from the ordinary ring, and the!
difference is not so marked but teat
'hey ran be displayed or concealed at
will The divorcees ring i.s of go:d.
w ith a broad strip of platinum or sil
ver set in. so that the ring shows a
whi-e stripe. Indicating that the mar
riage has been annulled and the ring
divided Still another ring for the di
vorcee has two opposing half-moons
and looks very much like an ordinary
signet ring. The ring for widows has
a half-covered full moon.
We don't think amch of a cookt.ig
s*hool that doesn’t tea*-h pupy. tIOW
to prepate dandelion greens
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