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PREPARATIONS FOR IRELAND'S COMING CENTENNIAL Pilgrims From AH Parts of the World Will Visit the Scenes Made Sacred by the Brave Struggle of 1798. Next spring will mark the centennial of Ireland's last great struggle for free dom. Irishmen the world over will celebrate it. Pilgrimages to the old battlefields will be made and monuments erected on many a spot made sacred by the heroes of the Revolution of 1795. All the countries of Europe, and Austra lia and America are expected to be the starting points of bands ot patriots. America, however, should be mentioned first in the list, for It is from this coun try that the greatest outpouring ol Irish patriots will take place. As long ago as ISRI. " '98 clubs" began to be formed in Boston and Xew York for the purpose of properly celebrating the great centennial in Ireland's his tory. But it is only recently that "The '98 Centennial Association of America" was formed. This is a national organ ization, with which local societies all over tho I'nlted States are co-operat ing. In many cities the local branches are under the control of the secret patriot ic societies. In many cases a great deal of quiet work has been done towards the centennial celebration, of which the public knows little or nothing. "Clan Na Gael" societies in many cities are interested in it. The officers of the national associa tion are: Edward O'Flaherty of New York, president: Roderick J. Kennedy of New York, treasurer: and John B. Kelley of New York, secretary. Re corder John W. Gofr of New York Is chairman of the executive committee. Judge Wauhope Lynn, another mem ber of the executive committee, was appointed judge of the first judicial dis trict of Xew York by Gov. Flower. Mr. John J. Teevons of Boston Is first na tional vice president. Chaplains will be chosen from nearly all the states of the union. Th»se will lie ministers of both Catholic and Protestant churches, —for it is Intended to make the celebra tion non-sectarian, Although most of the pilgrims will go In large bodies from New York, there will be other points of departure of entire ship loads of tourists. The Boston pilgrimage under the leadership of the noted orator and lecturer, 'Will iam J. Walshe, will go in a specially chartered steamer from this port. It is exp°eted this will be one of the largest separate bands of patriotic tourists to Visit Ireland in a body. Preparations ore lieing mad" in Ire land, from Queenetown and Cork on | the South to Belfast on the North, to receive anel entertain these patriotle sons and daughters of the land in an appropriate manner. Civic and religious demonstrations will take place, the British government's consent to such . arrange-ments having been secured. A feature of travel novel in the Emerald Isle will be introduced from America, j It is the buffet and sleeping car train, common enough here, but unknown there heretofore. In this rather Incon gruous, but up-to-date way the pll- ' Brims will be shown the historic scene "from a car window." The centennial dates are fr..m the j 12th of March, when the patriot leaders were imprisoned in Dublin, to the 21st! and 22d of June, when the lnst dlsas- . trOUB battle was fought at Vinegar Hill. That was the Bunker Hill of the Revo lution of 'AS. and it in expected that tke greatest number of pilgrims from all over the world will assemble at that! memorable spot on the 21st of next I June. OF INTEREST TO AT.I, AMERICANS. The Revolution of 1798 Is one that no- I pr-als particularly to all Americans, Tt Was an uprising that followed close on ! thehoels of our own successful rebellion fPOm British rule. Indeed, the success 1 ' of the Americans was a powerful fno tor in bringing together the powerful organization of United Irishmen which l precipitated the 1798 Uprising. More- ' over, many of the exiled leaders and I heroes CI that struggle for free-! Idom came to this country and died here. | Monuments to three of them, Thomas j Addis Emmet, Dr. MaicNevin, and Montgomery, stand in two old church yards on Broadway in New Tork city. The great leader of them all, Theo dore Wolfe Tone, came to this country [ In 1795, driven from home by the British 1 government. It was In Philadelphia I that he met the French minister, M. Adet, and through the latter's aid put into execution his great plan of secur ing aid from the French government for the cause of Ireland. But antedating this interesting Amer ican incident was the dramatic begin ning of the movement. In 1791 three ardent patriots, Wolfe Tone, Neilson, and MoCracken, standing on Cave Hill at Belfast, took on oath to "free the land or die." It was a North of Ire lan.l society at llrst, composed mostly of Protestants. The British government quickly be-' gan to persecute the new society. It I then (MOWN a secret society, and In-' stead ot working for parliamentary re- i form, in its first object, had recourse to force and began to enroll a regular' army. It at length numbered 100.000 members. The seneral government was kept well informed of the secret proceedings of the revolutionists, and waited till things were ripe for a swoop. They knew that the 23d of May had been fixed as the day of rising. On the 13th of March, 1798, Major Swan, a magts- trate acting on tho information o! ' Thomas Reynolds, arrested Olivei ; Bond and fourteen other delegate) assembled in committee in Bond's house, in Bridge street, Dublin and seized all their papers. On the same day, Thomas Addis Emmet, Dr. MacNevin, and others were ar rested in their homes. A fortnight before, Arthur O'Conner and a priest named Quigley had been ar rested at Margate on their way to Prance, O'Connor was sent to a Dublin prison, but Father Quigley was hanged at Maidstone. A reward was offered of Cl.Oon for the apprehension of Lord Fitzger iald, the moving spirit of the revolu | tion. He was arrested on the 19th of iiay in No. 158 Thomas street. Dublin. He was lying ill in bed when the offi cers entered the room, but he drew a I dagger and struggled desperately, I wounding two officers. A file of sol ! diers was called in. Lord Edward was j shot In the shoulder and overpowered. IHe died of his wound on the 4th of ! June. On the 21st of May two brothers, i Henry and John Shears, barristers, ! members of the Dublin Directory of' the T'nited Irishmen, were arrested , They were convicted on the 12th of July and haniii-d two days later. A reprieve j for Henry came too late—five minutes j after the execution. I The stopping of the mail coaches i from Dublin on the night of the 28d of j May was to be the signal for slmulta- I neous rising. This was done at two j o'clock on the morning of the 24th, and | the people rose in rebellion. But Dub | lin did not rise, as had been planned. ; for it had been placed under martial law and its leaders arrested. The ris ing was only partial, confined to the counties of Klldare, Wickkw, and Wex ford; though there were some slight attempts at Carlow and Meath. It was premature. The people were almost without arms, discipline, plan, or lead ers. On the ?fith of May n body ~f 4.000 revolutionists were defeated on the hiil of Tarn. On the next day, Whitsun day, the rising broke out In Wexford. Here the revolution assumed a religious character which it had not shown else where. Here the revolutionists were nearly all Catholics, although many of the leaders were Protestants. This Wexford rising was not the re sult of any concert with the Dublin Directory, for the society of United Irishmen had not made much head way among the quiet peasants of that county. The Wexford people were driven to rebellion simply by the ter rible barbarities of the government and military forces. They 1-030 in despera tion, without any plan or idea of what they were to do. Father John Murphy, parish priest of Kilcormlck, finding his little chapel of Bolcyvogue burned by the gov ernment militia, took the lead of tho revolutionists. together with another priest. Father Michael Mur phy, whose chapel had also been burned, On the 27th of May they defeated and annihilated a party of militia on the Hill of Oulart. six miles east of Enniscarthy, Having cap tured SOO stand of arms, they then marched on Enniscarthy. By the strategem of driving a herd of bul locks before them they broke the ranks of the town's defenders, and captured the place after four hours' fighting. "What a picture was Enniscarthy on the 24th of May," says De Qulncy in LOS ANGELES HERALD. SUNDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 20, 1898. , i writing ot this revolution. "Fugitive! i crowding In from Terns announced th< : j rapid advance of the patriots, now a . least 7,000 strong, elated with victorj | and maddened with fury. Soon aftei ; noon their advance guard, armed wit! muskets, commenced a tumultuous as ' sault. Less than 300 militia and yeo | mianry formed the garrison of the place "Now came a scene hardly matched fc<r Its variety of horrors, except In September, 1812, upon the line of the French advance to Moscow through the j blazing villages of Russia. All the loy- I alists of Knniscarthy were summoned Ito Instant flight. At one end of the street were seen the rebel rifles and j bayonets, and fierce faces already I gleaming through the smoke. At the i other end volumes of fire surging and j bellowing from the thatched roofs com ; Dion in that country and blazing raft- I ere wore beginning to block up the avenues of escape. | "Then was to be seen tbe delirium of ; fear and vindictive hatred; on the pa triots the tiger glare of just vengeance fresh from i*>tolerable rungs and the ' navef to be forgotten ignominy of strifes and personal degradations; panic self-palsied by its own excess, flight eager or stealthy, volleying pur , suit, the very frenzy of agitation under I every mode of excitement." The revolutionists followed up this victory by marching on Wexford and capturing it. After these victories the fortune of ; the revolutionists waned. The first at tack on Hoss, beg.un on the 29th of - May, the day after the capture of En -1 niscarthy, was for some reason post j poned till June 6th. It then resulted disastrously. The other critical move at this time | was upon ArkJow in the North. After a brilliant victory at Gorey, in which bath Gen. Lof tits' and Coi. Walpole'sl ! forces had been routed by the patriots, came a fatal delay of four d-ays. On ! the 3th the garrison had retreated in I a panic. The patriots halted at CJorey | till the 9th. and then advanced with I what seemed to be an overwhelming I force of 27.000 men. Hut exactly at that I time the old garrison of Arklow re j turned, reinforced by the Durham In vlnctbles. The contest that followed j was fiercely fought by the patriots, but resulted disastrously. This battle of Arklow, June 9th, was the hinge en which the revolution turned. Nearly 30.000 men, armed with pikes, and 5,000 with muskets and sup ported by some artillery, advanced against the British, but they were de feated. The patriots then took up their main military position at Vinegar Hill, which lies immediately above the town of Enniscarthy. Here the royal army. 1:1.000 strong, converged in four divi sions on the 20th of June. The great | blow was to be struck on the 21st. So fierce was the attack, beginning at seven o'clock in the morning, that in I an hour and a half the patriot forces I were In full retreat. There was no re covery from this disaster, and the in surgent army vanished. In County Down, the revolutionists I under Henry Munro captured Saint- Ifield and encamped in Hord Moira's do- j ; main near Balllnohlnch, On the nth of June, they were attacked by Oen-j era-ll Nugent and Barber and defeated' Rafter an obstinate fight. Munro es j caped, but was captured and hanged j jat his own door. | By some misunderstanding the rebel lion in the North was delayed. Th* Antrim revolutionists under Henry Joy McCraCken attacked and took the towr. of Antrim on the 7th of June, but tho military returning with reinforcements took the town after a stubborn fight. HcCracken was taken, and was hanged on the 17th of that month. Liord Cornwallis. who surrendered to General Washington at Yorktown. en tered Dublin ns Hord Lieutenant tha day before the final disaster at Vinegar Hill. He issued, early in July, a procla mation of general amnesty to all who had shed no blood except on the field I of battle. But martial law was stilt maintained, and it jvas several months before all the Southern districts were i subdued. The struggle lasted longest among the valleys and hills of Wicklow, the! fastnesses of the Celtic mountaineers. But even there It was practically crushed out by the end of the year of 1798. On tthe 29th of July Cornwallls en tered Into an errangement with sorrw of the leaders limprlsoned In Dublin, over seventy in all, to tell all they knew about the United Irishmen's Associa tion without implicating individuals, after which they were to be permitted to leave Ireland. Accordingly Arthur O'Connor, Thomas Addis Emmet, Dr. MiacNevln, Samuel Neilson, and sev eral others were examined on oath. After all they were not allowed to go free, for twenty of the principal men were sent to Port Oeorge In Scotland, where they were kept confined till 1802. The most romantic phases of this revolution were the two expeditions from France that set out to aid the Irish revolutionists. The first, which Wolfe Tone hnd gone from America to Paris to organize, sailed from Brest Harbor. France, Dec. 16. 1796. It was under the command of the French General. Hoche. It had forty-three call and 15.000 veteran soldiers. But a gale came up and separated Hoche's ship, th? Fraternite. from the rest of the fleet. Grouchy. the unfortunate Grouchy, who by his tardiness lost Wa terloo for Napoleon, was second In com mand. He reached Bantry Bay with a portion of the fleet, but hesitated to disembark without the presence of his commanding general. Another gale came up and the remainder of the fleet was scattered and driven far out to sea. The remnants of the expedition put back to France. The next 111-starred French naval ex pedition was got together by the In defatigable Wolfe Tone two years later. This was known as Humbert's expedi tion. It sailed from I>a Roc.helle, Aug. 4th. There were three frigates with a fighting force of only 1.100 men. But a large stand of arms was taken in an ticipation of arming th? Irish peas antry. A landing was made at Klllal v, and for thiv>e weeks the invader biid his own against every difficulty, defeat ?d several forces in the field, one at the lowest calculation being seven or eight times his superior In size, raptured an pntire province, and only surrendered to overwhelming odds after out* m.moeuvering the British during a week's march. The French had by that time penetrated 150 miles into the In terior of the country. An unfortunate lei ay of a few hours prevented their I Unction with a large body of Irish in* mrgents. Had this been accomplished, the road to Dublin would have been thrown open to him and the hjstory of Ireland might have been changed. One of rhe saddest incidents of the ivar occurred at the surrender of the Ftench. Wolfe Tone, who was among the officers taken, was apprehended ».s a traitor. He was tried by court nartinl and condemned to death by langlng, being refused a soldier's more Honorable death by being shot. He managed, however, to open a vein in his neck, and before the ignominious leaith of the gibbet ceuild be Inflicted i" had found death in his cell. He was Lmrie.l at Rordenstown. near Dublin, and to that place, as to a Shrine, thou sands upon thousands of devoted Irish patriots will go next year as the Mo hammedans do to Mecca. Copyright. IS9B. by Bacheller Syndicate. A CENTURY RUN. That Is the Remarkable Record Made by the Quaint Old Watch Here Pictured. The only watch in existence known to have actually run for one hundred i - ears with occasional intervals of rest, s in th? possession of Paul H. Kraniss. 3f 44 East Washington street, Indian apolis. Ind. It still keeps good time, its case bears the name of Rose & Son, Makers, London, 1793, The first wat?h nade at thefamous old town of Nurem berg had exactly the same kind of es capement. The watch was brought from Eng and to America by Mr. Kraniss' grand* 'ather in IS3O, and has been in the pos session of its present owner for about twenty years. The accompanying il .ustrait ion is from a photograph taken i that the readers of this article might fi xac-tly how the quaint old watch !and its equally odd fob chain appear. I This chain is made of two rows Ot gold rings, seventeen on each side, hooked at one end with a. split gold ! ring. At the lower end hangs the key j with which the watch Is wound, and • this key Is of such form as to make; a j very pretty locket. Jewelers to whom this heirloom has I been shown say It is the best existing [ example known of watchmaking as !t ! existed in the latter part of the eighteenth century, when watches were rare, and mstde entirely by hand. Copyright, IS9B, by Bacheller Syndicate. California and Oregon. The name of California originated In J | the imagination of the author of aj t Spanish romance. "Les Sergus de Es-' plandian." Here the "Iskvnd of Call- j fornia, where abundance of gold nnd precious .stones are found," was de- j scribed. The name was probably given to the territory now embraced in Cali fornia by some of the Spaniards with Cortes, who,, no doubt, had read this sensational romance. ' Oregon was a name formerly given to an imaginary river of the West. Carver, an American traveller, mentions it in 1763. In describing it he evidently cqn founded. it with the Missouri, but the name was finally applied to the present State of that name. I THE OTHER MARGARET. In an upper room of a Roman pen sion a girl was straining her eyes ir the fading right, as she bent over t partly finished letter. Her per scratched on busily, and just as th« Aye Maria floated out from the belfrj of the Trinlta del Monte, she gaitheret up her papers and went to the window with a sigh, partly of relief, and partly of rapture over 'the sunset glow. A quick step was heard In the corri dor, and a brisk, little wo man burst Into the room, flinging c dozen parcels upon the table, and her self into a chair before the open fire. "My dear Margaret," she gasped, "do let me have some tea. I'm completely done for. What do you suppose I've l>een doing since dejeuner? You know, the Bronsons asked me to drive with them on the Appian Way. It was their first experience, and I took a wicked pleasure In seeing the destruction of their preconceived notions. The Cap tain was grimly silent, —you can never take Wm by surprise! But Mrs. B. was moved to the warmest expressions of disapproval. 'And this Is one of the sights,' she groaned, 'do let us go back to the Pin-see-o. Why, we have dozens of prettier drives round Pittsburg. So to the Plncio we went, and then ! begged to be put down, and walked over to Allntari's. where I got the Ra phael photographs you wanted. After that 1 simply flew about getting prizes for tonight's euchre. Tell me If you think I've made a good selection. The first Is this little bronze St. Peter In the Chair. Isn't It perfect, especially the toe? That cost more than I meant to pay, but it is such a charming souve nir. The second is this paper-weight with the Dying Gladiator on top; Isn't it lust too dear! For a 'consolation prize' I bought a loaf of good, substan tial American sponge-cake. I daresay there will be a sharp competition for that if we have the sort of dinner we had last night." Little Mrs. Ives paused for breath and Margaret poured the tea, while she smiled aft the recital. "What else?" she Inquired. "That Is hardly enough to have tired you Anne." "Well.' said her friend. "I did a lot more, but first I must fell you a ro mantic bit of gossip Mrs. Hyde has jus; whispered to me; and it is alvout you, mv lady!" Margaret looked incredulous, but un disturbed. Her friends had a fancied affaire dv coeur arranged for her al most daily, but she was so unruffled and placid through it all that they were beginning to despair of her. "The elevator had, as usual, stuck be tween the second ." nd third stages,' continued Mrs. Ives, "and while that stupid porter. and several other equally useless beings were making a wild endeavor to budge us. Mrs. Hyde and I had a long talk. She asked me if I had noticed the young Scotchman at our table. You know, we did speak of him. Margaret, and I insisted that with his tawny hair and mustache he ought always to wear a Tarn O'Shanter and shooting-clothes,—he Is so exactly like Black's heroes. Now don't look so skeptical, my child,—-he almost broke in two, leaning forward to watch you when you were talking with Captain Bronson at luncheon. Mrs. Hyde found that her husband knew him: they had met in the Troswaohs a year or so ag->. and this young Fairbairn confided to the Hydes that he was desperately anx ious to know j-ou. He said that you were so like some one he knows <n home. —that is. your profile, not your full face—and he is evidently fascinat ed—" Margaret broke into irrepressible laughter. "My dear Anne." said she. "your "army Scot is plainly just a little mad. No one was ever fascinated with my profile. Don't you know that T always make it a point to give a full face view to those of my friends whose good opin ion I cherish? How absurd! Besides, t hate to serve as a reminder of other lays: it is too much on the order ol faded flowers and locks of hair. Pleas" don't tell me any more." "Just this," pleaded Mrs. Ives, as she rose, picking up her euchre prizes, sacred and secular, "the girl whom you resemble so closely is also a Margaret, and it is this coincidence that has so completely bowled him over. I dare say she rejected him just before he left home. Surely, that would be Interest ing?" "Very." replied Margaret, "but. what is still more interesting, you have ex ictly fifteen minutes before dinner. Don't keep me waiting, please; I've written eight letters for the American mail, and am hungry enough to devoui your 'consolation prize' on the spot." As Miss Raynor took her place at thf table d'hote, she glanced casually H her new neighbor. Two seats beyond her, chatting with an elderly English man, was the bright-faced, strong and sturdy young hero of Mrs. Ives' story Margaret looked but for a moment, yel lie quickly turned and caught her ej-e lazing at her for an almost Impercept ble instant,—th n n she turned, with per fect composure, to speak to Captain Rronson. An animated discussion, nol jnlik? that which took place nightly til this festive meal, was in full swing. "Let us all refuse this horrible cur. ■ied mystery!" exclaimed a nervous lit tle American, "then perhaps we "need never have it again," As the other? ■aughed. she went on despairingly, 'Oh, for a good beef-steak and sotttf sweet potatoes! Did I ever dream 1 ?ould crave a flsh-ball?" This outburst was followed by tender confidences among the older house teepers concerning certain tried and reasured recipes, all of which did not serve to alloy discontent of tthe par lakers of the present repast, and tihe ittle American moaned feelingly every time a beloved and familiar dish was lamed. "Buckwheat cakes," she sighed. 'Mine would make your hair curl, and is for my mother's rorned-be»f hash—" >yes rolling heavenward nnd heaving losom conveyed to b< ■•• '"-n.rers some alnt Idea of these delicacies justly amed under the Stars and Stripes. Margaret was among the first tc (vitlhdraw from this "feast of reason tnd flow of soul," but in the reading ■onm she was soon overtaken by Mr tfyde. "Miss Raynor," he began. "I have a .remendous favor to ask. May I Intro BY SYDNEY FROST. due* a young friend of mine,—Falrr -1 bairn of Alrlleford? Awfully good stock. I I know his people, and he's a capital , sort of chap. Do you mind? He Is to keen about it." Margaret oould not refuse, though, as she said, It was hardly worth while. I since they were soon leaving for Flor ence. But Mr. Hyde had disappeared at her I first word of assent, and now ap | proaohed with the young man, who was ln no wise disconcerted at the introduc tion, which consisted of numerous ejaculations, at the end of which Mr. Hyde bolted for the smoking-room with an air of evident relief. An hour later the reading-room was still almost empty and from the parlors beyond came the snatches of waltz mu sic and the gay voices of dancers, but Margaret and the gray-eyed young man were still talking. He was lean ing forward, holding her attention quietly and without an effort, and she had so far forgotten her professed in difference as to be laughing merrily over his descriptions and readily an swering his questions about herself. Off for a two years' trip over the Con tinent and in America, Kenneth Fair bairn had come to Rome for the holi days, and In the course of conversation he adroitly obtained from the girl suf ficient Information to determine his next move or two. Frankly and nat- "Kenneth Quickly Crossed to the Girl's Chair." ■' urally enougih. he mentioned the fact j that she resembled a friend of his. . I "Such a nice, whole-souled girl, Miss . Raynor," he said eagerly, "they have i I been neighbors of ours for years, and :I as I've never had a sister, Margaret 11 has been so much to me. It Is curious. . Isn't it, that you should have the same • name, and features so strikingly slmll , ar? I must show you her picture to i morrow. You didn't mind, I hope, my wanting to know you? It is like a bit of home, and I haven't felt so contented since I came to Italy. It is awfully for lorn at times to be travelling about by one's self." Margaret could not resent his boyish frendllness; and later, after she had J danced once or twice with young Falr- I balm and had gone to Mrs. Ives' cor j ncr to rest, ahe told her friend, without ' a shade of self-consciousness all that I had passed, and of her instant liking for the young man. "I think It Is principally because I can turn my profile unflinchingly to ' ward him. and be sure that he is not I finding fault with it." she laughingly | affirmed. ! But Mrs. Tves shook her head. Mar garet, of all girls in the world, was least apt to care a.bout the impression she produced. While she could not be called handsome, strictly speaking, few girls had received more attention, 'either at home or on a European trip. ' Brown-eyed, with fair wavy hair and clear, pale skin. Margaret was deolded jly pleasant to look ui>on; but her chief i charm was a certain rare quality, a stamp of character, sweet and good and true. There was no mistaking it In her face, and this it was that brought friends about her everywhere she went. The days sped on. and in March, i Margaret and her friend began to ■ think of moving northward. No one I was surprised when Kenneth calmly announced thai he was tired of Rome, j and would, with their permission ac ' company the two Indies to Florence. Established on the Lung' Arno, the quiet life was resumed, full to overflow ing of color and life and beauty, the enjoyment of pictures and music, books and flowers. Mrs. Ives teased no long er; such reverent, unselfish devotion as Kenneth's impressed her as something sweeter and finer than she ,had ever seen. And the Margaret of these days was like a Joyous child, unquestlon | ing. confident, serene. Tho three wan i dered through the Flower City In the ; sunshine, thence between rose-hedges out into fields carpeted with anemones. And there were long afternoons when I two only strolled under the bluest of skies, sometimes talking, offener silent. The other Margaret was o frequent topic of conversation; and the happy. I light-hearted rrirl often felt vaguely grateful to her unknown namesake, for j j was It not the resemblance between i j them that had been the means of bring- I i ing Kenneth to her? The young man's perfetftly candid expressions of friend ship regarding his neighbor left no doubt In Margaret's mind as to the ut , tar absence of sentimental fancy In j that direction, but he often uncon sciously revealed to her the other girl's ! genuine affection, in telling what she I had done for him, and of her loyalty to j I his house. Little belongings of his. j daintily embroidered and marked, he I had shown Margaret with real brother ]ly pride 1n the skill of his "small sis | ter" as he sometimes called her. And ' Margaret's heart ached «as she won- i ! dered and hoped; for while she guessed how It would be, there was nothing she could do. The warm weather came suddenly that year, and before Mrs. Ives could even plan an Itinerary which should carry them Into higher and cooler re gions, Margaret had succumbed to the languorous, oppressive heat. For days ahe was very weak and nervous, and , Mrs. Ivea was grave and anxious. At last, one evening, she was able to be dressed and to sit for a while at th* window to get a glimpse of the sunset sky, and they began to talk hopefully of setting to the Lake* and Switzer land within a fortnight. "Mr. Falrfcalrn has been almost in sane, Margaret," suddenly remarked the little woman. "I think he fancied you at death's door, and how he glared and glowered at me for keeping him from you! I have not dared let you have half the flowers he has brought, while as for fruit—well, his donation* would have amply sufficed for an or phan asylum. He la the most gener ous creature I ever saw." After a little, Margaret said, "I could see him tonight, Anne, dear. What do you think?" "Just the thing," responded Mrs. Ives, going to the bell. "It will cheer you up, and you need to see some one besides stupid me after all these days." Kenneth was not long on the way, and after his breathless greeting, one look told Margaret that she oould not much longer put off the Inevitable. His heart was In his honest eyes, and Anne, pitying his Impatience, made some ex cuse to leave the room for a few min utes. Kenneth quickly crossed to the girl's chair, and knelt beside her. Hold in 5 both her hands in his, he looked In to the brown eyes. "My aln Margaret," was all that he said, as he took her in his arms. A long, tow cliff Juts out into the sea Just north of Alrlleford, and among the heather, In the lingering twi light erf a June evening, a girl was reading a letter. It was one she had just written, very important, evidently, for she weighed every sentence and considered each phrase. "He told me to send if ever things got worse," she said to herself, hope- I fully, "and who In the world have I but Kenneth? It was not so bad until the I sickness came, but now I oan't Bee how Iwe shall make out unless we have help. I And, oh, to have Kenneth back ones ; more, after all these months of wish ing and wearying for him. He'll not be angry; and, If he should guess how I love him—for perhaps I can't keep It back any longer—why, it will only be the truth, and I am not ashamed at all. By this time he may be in Amer ica, but anyway, he said over and over again, 'And mind you send for me, Maggie, if ever you need any one, or if things go hard: for am I not your big( brother, and where should a brother bo but at home when had times come?' " She folded iher letter and placed It in It. envelope. Out of the dusk ahead she saw a child come tumbling through the bushes with something white ln his outstretched hand. "For you, Maggie," he cried, "and may I have the stamp? "Tls an Amer ican stamp, Donald was telling me." Margaret flushed as she recognised the bold, regular writing. It must mean that Kenneth was coming anyway, and she need not send. A glance through the letter, and the color left her face; the closing paragraph seemed to glow in letters of flame. "And this new, beautiful Margaret J that's made me tibe proudest man in the world, wants so much to know my little sister, 'the other Margaret,' as we call you.—and we talk of you very often, you may be sure. Tou must be ready to greet her soon, for we shall be coming home shortly after this • reaches you. Donald will have out the pipes to play the welcome, and you will tell every one that we are coming—" The girl crushed the letter with the one she had written and thrust the,two in her bosom. Then she threw herself face downward upon the ground, a lit- j tie, suffering, silent figure. Long after' it was quite dark, a tired voice called faintly from a distant house, "Margaret. Margaret." And the girl, stumbling to her feet, groped her way down the hill through the purple gloom. Copyright, 1898, by Bacheller Syndicate. Want a Circus in Your Yard? If you want a regular circus in tha back yard next summer Invest a dimia in a package of mixed gourd seeds and plant by a picket fence. Train them along, and If you pour dish waiter around the roots every day the first surprise will come In seeing tihe things j grow, perhaps shutting out an ugly | back yard next door, and also being | a pretty background for marigolds, ] asters or zinnias planted in the front. | Some sunny morning take a view of i your fence covered with prettily shaped leaves and the neat egg gourds jso white hanging all over it, mixed | with the large yellow flowers, and I however "blue" you will take a mora | ! cheerful view of things. Furthermors ! the vine has something for every men | ber of the family. Grandma can datf her stockings on a small gourd; mother can use them for nest eggs; the artistic daughter can carve pretty I boxes and cups, and paint pictures on | the hard, smooth surface; the little girls can make a whole yard of animals out of the small ones, using matches or toothpicks for legs; the boy can make a curiosity for his cabinet by putting a bottle over the bud: it will 1 expand and fill the space, and the other j boys will wonder bow such a big thing I could be put Into such small quarters. J