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DEAD MAN’S DRIVE.
BX J. COLNE DACRE. (Continued.) CHAPTEH V. Ciirls'mas e ’aing wu' mild and SUi.r.y. But for the carpet of spotless Si >w it raigh have Wq a day stolen form early spring, la the evergreen shrubs surrntuding the Maisonette c< intfeaa hli Is trilled a mg of thanks giving for the breakfast cf grain that, in accordance with Mrs. Mo gorton’s it-tractioas, awaited tfc» ni very d.iy. .1! r tender heart hatee t< thial of the lingering starvation t iU' . during the fr st by the brave liveie s »::us ers, ami it was 1 *r delight to wateli them ‘ lus ter in large numbers ar ami the sheaf of corn which. fc.T;.*\ it.g . ’ rrian « is tom. she had erected 1 n a pole in he center of the lawn. The ho -“holt! at the Maisom '.te was not ■ n curly one. If was n arly It o'cl ck when F,t eh* tt ’•■>'*• ! •- ie ■* ]y inn t «>; njkrress’ it ■ m. nd rimviug enuti* ‘ to the hearth. -an adroitly to lay i! Are. The glow still limn r.c i the wood as: (3—it was one of Mr-. r.gorto® s faucies to burn o ly - vf smelling woods in her special ruomfr show, i 1 r that at s : p the night tue ln«‘ hau been rep u “Ah, the pattvre nmdaiv.e tons Frew 'woman, as. i > a ~c sof' y about, sb arranged the * tn. Mrs. Mongonon’s «-i amber was like the retreat of some fairy pri cess. Kverything that money « aid do to render it beautiful had -sur. d 1 ■ -1 ione. The scheme of c ring through golds and creams, blend l in perfect harmo; y.* Fl< cy sheepskin rug golden of “tie, covered the polo'.ted I ‘’’-O' tt The bedstead, «nurei> «>f ual' draped wiih s >ft r ft • <■ >vereu v.. h creamy Spanish h e. lh - nod ■ er Df rnse satin, adorned by ~k; u! fingers with m •\ ■ - cf t »ti >r' s >11 • was edged with a frill of tie same lace. Spanish lace tun :r wi h a --’Ik n lining shaded the thr»wide southern windows. In the m-dds wind w sf >oU « t itfc r side by nil \ ■ ■ in ®‘!. G. Id backed brushes, tni. >■! with a mosaic of violets in p trinket boxes, cut cry ai bottles of perfume an*l the endb -s necessaries pertaining to the t ttet <*f a fashionable woman littered its surface. \ massive wardrobe eunnt gly wrought in carving' that portray d be a < a. a an . sundry > - 11 terra . > plush comi leted the heavier fuii fi 0- tie walls hung several valuable pi,. , Gi ure, two Ji i Van Geers ai ,i . .i,i with a blood red sun set by M»:n»be. 0 e of Mrs. Mongolian's craving w. s 1 tv y; al her surroai-iings v •• ' m v 1 retired, tin 1 it certain t f her ( < iblishmeut and unu *• ' 1 * \p* Hti it un o: In s A-ii. the la: Mr. Mongorton glv wealthy man. i Ware i: 11 th will hud again visit. . the wnb. and that a pile of pres : n n, aw.Ped h H< r r; ,ht arm V ei i. n •• rut < * ' ' r pale gre n night role • Uiv-g aik revealed & <1 h r!'. mol ’ 'I t ad wrist clasp ed bv several bangle '. The wee, tt: tra< 1 erisply; a ptne er fell, i ik.ng a < among the tiv irons. Ho Ga stirred on lus down cu-ni n. ri I Mrs. > ' oitou awoke. It - med a mi: it or two etre she collected h r though: Then. stretch ing cut her hand, sm touched, a button and from tbv< dr >P «r ilower Uk • gUdu- fix d over her i electric lml.t shone out. . __... Another touch brought lane act ti. neat tr m ami talk. ive. “A nu rry e ht .-tn > madamc. aus si une b' ar.ne». " 1 . 1 ,, !t of cad' iux and r.-m mtirrnces f.u r> .nue. Has mac. m" the pain? Yes? V < is the good n> «'sl M 1 • . thu mor lug. but that h< u-h. at *' head, and * ibai he tint th de-nuit. F.i h now. th .* mad - colour, or • : o'y or whv.e. but eau- - nil no. novuir ’ . Mis Mon " t«-n raise .t< -• > gutdly on her pillows. She loc k-d pate umi In ivy- yi ii. . I am a hum 1 zv this t - ’ ■ U • d surely it i* very cold. Vaiuhet e. -But no. m ukun. : of truth .a beau tiful Christmas mornji.g. Se. In - inv up the blinds, she ry lied a to pine sky. “The snow bas ..used to fall, matin me; it lies crl-p ant. "ttiun Mrs Mongorton h id been turning ow h-r U CVS. looking !t~tl> At the handwriting «P;« ^h. When V aohere . nt« ^ ” rl" a - -> laden with hoi -ho, late and crisp * at rolls, she v.. lying sti gaz i p dr- amity Rt the t e. Kanchectw di a,.pointed at her mts tr* m -Ni b nt M, , of interest m he L -.: oji- “Bat the eadeaux—Will inaUau-o net op n them rh i u red. M Mongo-ton, betw< n h< to invest! gm« the - teems of >- l^'kacos sont her. Vost of :h. >- contained floW'- ' grant dm - its from -'“I ' ami a gr-it . ,f violets en w:. <d with spi.,>s -Th\ came last night, by sopcial m sen a or., ’» to l given to you on ' tr av k>mine this nioruipg. mad am. " it bore the inscrip: ton. intended f,her . yes alone: "To my bride. \‘ photograph - ' Wilfred was er. h ‘a the bcA. ami a- she looked p tk. handsome fea es a well . f Y\, i.u.c up in her .. ... -WO! 1c ever really m. mine, she р. • and at that im-ta .t the an sip. r. m . , , .. n,ere was a little commotion in the r.VT;,p . ..d a hurried tap at the door с. i!!- •! - hette away. \ > >und of ex , | e . s whi-’Wtng n th- pa." .if i h'd. for a space, tb n Fanehette, express on of horror on her face, ii o the - 'om. a- v, . .illume, but the new?! \h, C ’ it Is too awful’” "What Is it? What's wrong" Tell me quickly!’' M , \ .M-jovton was r , paler than she h >>1 been. but her br.ath came in 1- casp. - idsme! Pam % Monsieur , d and he so han,i- hue!" Speak! What is U? l-|he dead"” Mom-■ ton cried. 1 /« >.’» wkle v i suspense. ' No. madauie4 it *s hia Ancle. He is / rdead—k died—murdered by some un known assassin!'* Is Sir Jasper Welland quite dead?" Mis. Mongor.on asked abruptly. •Ii . ! told, they say, as a stone. \r.d ah. nu.dame, the terrible wound! Th‘y jay it is-" S; .• m< details. Fanchette,” cried her mistress impatiently. "Who bronchi the i ews?" ■ rhe garde-, tiasse. madanie—what you call gamekeeper. lie says they i . k him rigid from .he carriage, cov ered with the bloca. and all the house is terror-struck." •‘How awful!" murmured Mrs. Mon gorton, bat to a!! appearances she was , not .'V rwhelmed with grief. Was not the only obstacle ( > her union with Wil lie,: Welland r w removed? Fir Jas per had spoken strangely, vindictively, wii n he visit'd her. Now hi? power « d fled, lit was (lead, and Wilfred was hers. i ?:;u»t t! e-s pib-kly. I wish to send a i nge < f sympathy to Welland Cour . Fill my bath at once.” Shi lay musing until Fanchette an n, m , | th ;t thr bath was ready. T! mwing o. a quilted Japanese ,:n -.*■ tig gown of purple and silver, and thrusting her pink toes into slippers to n . Mrs. Mo.igur.on passed into her , - irig room. Descending the two I s p ndir.g to the large marble bath v.- oil. full of warm perfumed water. :nKingly ready, she started back --— ■ .■- ■ [ ed Dobson, his face buried in his nanus, shuddering at every allusion to the , dread sight he had witnessed, yet fear ful at the thought of seeking his quar ters over the stables. I p and down his snuggery Wiltred paced restlessly, praying for the dawn to dispel the seemingly endless night. •Ml that was possible to do with re 1 gard to spreading the information of the murder he had done instantly. After the first shock of the discovery of the awful occurrence had passed, when he was able to realize that his unde had be n foully slain, his first step was to rouse the men servants and send them back to the c ,unt;. < n- ubti lary station at Odswinton, and also to th* neighboring magistrates, request ing speedy investigation of the crime. Two of the men were sent off without delay to despatch a telegraphic message to the authorities at Scotland Yard, stat ing die circumstances of the murder, and requesting the attendance of a skilled representative at Welland Court, in order that he might bring his exper ience to aid in fathoming the mystery. The messengers had orders to await the reply, and to lose not a second in its transmission to Sir Wilfred. It was jus: as day broke that the answer, in its yellow envelope, was put into his hand. He opened it eagerly. Ks con tents ran thus: “Our Insp tor Burley will reach Odswinton Station with train arriving at eight-forty. Have conveyance wait ing." Sir Wilfred felt intense relief from the assurance that a member of the de tective staff would be on the spot with in a few hours. Once in his hands, he felt convinced that all would become plain. He recalled ingenious romances of Gaboriatfs, wherein seemingly inex plicable crimes had been unravelled . Tw TfTut ,v rut BI ao . MM Ml : «“ «tn»M®-B»im TJK H’jl HiJl' OF tLvUD with a feeling of repulsion. Anemones < t «i«-t p glowing * .irlet floated on the surface of the water. • i auchi i'o !" she tailed sharply. “Yes, madame.” “ : hrse flow■« us I don’t like them af ter your story. Take them away, Let t( Mi , ti g idt .~s »ms always be white or y How in future.” > . , madame " replied the maid, “a! lou.mo is fanciful to-day. The sad .vs has upset her,” she concluded in ward!/ as she removed the tabocded m i anemones. CHAPTER VI. All thr mh the long winter night sl.-‘p hud no visit... Welland Court, 'l a uews of th® shocking discovery ran like wildfir through the house, aioii.-ir.g tl * rvants who had already i. tired, an 1 bringing hem down stairs, garbed in odd varieties of dishabille, to di.M-:.-s tremblingly the awful fate that without the slightest warning, . \ . i ak< ti their master. Wrapped in a woolen shawl, her cap so awry on her still abundant white h.t r. good Mrs. Munzell, the respected i b :s. k* t-per. whose reign, like that of ‘ Mr. Parkinson, the butler, dated back i Sir Jasper’s predecessor, sat in her v i a lour, reviving her shaken nerves v 1 .; glass of wine and a biscuit. u -. Parkinson, who shared in the «. -needed refreshment, for once fail • : ,o i • Tsorvo his accustomed spick ... --nan appearance. His usually int i! re llr.eu was crushed and his t aair iun:|Mrii. ! 's wful to think of a nice quiet I u- itlenu.ti like Sir Jasper coming to h a dreadful e:id. If he had Item a I cm t. overhearing gentleman, now. as Sl iwfd no mercy tQ poor .folks, it \ u d not have Mai extraordinary. But to think of him. as was always so considerate anil generous, a-going out i:> tlu- morning hearty and coming home j d ui. if makes my blood run coid." Mr. Parkinson shook his head grave ly over his wine, and the old woman eon iaued garrulously: "And sir Jas j per such a quiet man. too—never inter f. -lug about anythink! ‘Live and let I live’ hat was his motto. I should I say.” "Sir Jasper knew his place as a gen t\: n. Ho knew wh°n he wore well - v- 1. and didn’t go poking his nose into ether p* epic's business,” remarked tl.c butler seiner.tiously. ' \h. yes. Mr. Parkinson. that's very tree. We ll never see his like again." assented Mrs. Munzell. mopping up a nr with the corner of her shawl. ‘ And Mr. Wilfred—he's master now, I sup p se?" "Sir Wilfred. Mrs. Munzell. if you ple.i«e. He is the legal heir to the bar onetcy and estates." * And a tine, hearty young gentleman, too. full of life and fun. 1 do hope as h w this sad occurrence won’t break his spirit." ■ No fear of that." said Parkinson au ?! . ritat ve!v; "he‘s young and young people, like young animals, soon get over their troubles. But it's a sad l low t' the fortunes of th.s house, ma’am. Man and boy. i have served here near fifty years, and this is the first dis grates that has come upon it. sir Jasper’s predecessor and his father be fore him died, in their beds, with their famih physicians in attendance. Mark my words, Mrs. Mu roll, this is a woe ful day for Welland Court, and misfor i tunes never come single!" I Ip. the spacious kitchen the cook had built up a great fire, and round it clus ter' 1 the domestics, huddling close to gether. while they discussed endlessly such details of the murder as were known to them. The mysterious i ature of the crime, which lef t the perpetrator up suspect ui and at large, added to th-ir fears: and a the slight's*, sound tin y would glance apprehensively round, and then cower the closer to j get her. * la a seat in the darkest coraer crouch from the slightest clues. He pictured .. .; ej as a s - >nd Lee iq. I!is experience of the country police had been of the slightest, otherwise he might have had greater faith in their p overs of discrimination. Like many c hers, he had the ideal that only from the V! y headquarters of his country's guardians could he get any real assist ance. r- the night riraggt d slowly past. At seven o’clock the attentive Parkinson brought in hot coffee, and with his own hands replenished the fire. But, en grossed in his thoughts. Sir Wilfred did not notice his entrance, ar.d the coffee tooled untasted. Unable to remain inactive any longer, Sir Wilfrt i personally awaited the ar rival of Inspector Burley at Odswinton Station. The news of the murder had spread, and the railway officials and the one or two travelers by the morning ex press looked with painful interest at the tall figure -landing aloof in the chill morning air. The signal fell with a clatter, the p i r clang d a noisy bell, the London express rushed panting into the sta tion, ar.d stood a moment, its engine snorting energetically, as though un easy to be off again. From a smoking carriage alighted a rail, stout man. with an air of import ance and of conscious superiority over his fellows. The s;iff contour of his hack, and a certain ponderous method of lifting his feet, suggested that at one time he might have adorned the nolice force. It was Mr. Inspector Bur ley. of Scotland Yard. Introducing himself, Sir Wilfred seized him eagerly, as though in an agony of impatience to learn his verdict, and hurried him out to where an open carriage was in waiting. The station master in person—not the usual subor dinate—collected the inspector’s ticket, and saw them into the carriage with an »:ir of respectful solicitude. "I am glad you got my telegram early enough.” said Sir Wilfred. “1 was woke up just in time to catch the train and l 'ad a rush. 1 can tell you, sir.” “Here is a flask of sherry, and some sandwiches. You will he the better for them after your journey, and I can give you all the details as we go along” Mr. Burley stolidly munched and sip ped as the carriage bore them swift’y through the little ullage of Ashbury, and past the Maisonette gates towards the seen, of the murder, while his com panion related how on his way from the station to Welland Court at midnight on the previous day Sir Jasper had been mysteriously butchered. “Was ic on this road'?” asked the in ! spector suddenly, his mouth full. “Yes—at least, on a road leading off the highway direct to the gates of Wel | land Court.” “Then the road will have all been trodden over by this time, and there won’t he no hopes of finding out any thing." said the detective in aa injured i tone. “Oh. no: you will find everything just 1 as it was when the murder wascommit I ted. No one has set foot on the road. ; When my uncle's body had been car ried into the house. I had the outdoor man living near the Court roused, and stationed to watch the upper end of the road and two to guard the lower. Even those men reached the road by field paths, to avoid leaving a single footprint on the route the carriage had traversed.” "Good!" ejaculated the detective ap provingly. “But about ’his here car riage—wouldn’t the wheels mark the ground as you came down?” “No; there is a second entrance to Welland Court from the north. Going to the s ati o that way one has to drive through the town of Odswinton. My -uncle preferred this road as being the most secluded. Both are much the same distance from the railway; I used the other this morning. We will ap proach the road as my uncle did. and at its junction with the highway alight, and examine every footprint carefully. For the first two miles they had bowled along swiftly through the clear, crisp atmosphere, the snow making a soft carpet for the horse’s feet. I he sullied whiteness of the snow revealed frequent traces of traffic. Marks of the heavy hobnailed boots of bucolic way farers and the tiny footprints of urchins who had passed that way were all dis tinctly evident. There were also wheel and hoof tracks of some conveyance, probably going to the railway station with milk. Wilfred remembered see ing the tall cans standing ready for transit at the station. A little further along, the trees cf the Welland estate came in sight. The highway encircled the lower side there of. and the way to the Court diverged at the angle of the pine wood, and curv ed gradually up the side of the slope occupied by the timber, ending, a mile distant, at the lodge gates. As they neared the junction of the roads two men, who had been pacing up and down where the paths met. turned round, and with an expression of relief advanced towards them. Stopping the carriage. Sir Wilfred and Inspector Burley alighted, while the men eyed the latter with intense re spect. "No one has passed down this road, Jodkins?” asked Sir Wllfr. d. “Not a livin' soul, sir—Sir Wilfred, beg ging your pardon,” answered Jodkins, touching his cap. "A milk cart and three school children have come down the other.” remarked Mr. Burley, with an air of profound knowl edge. "Lcr. yes. sir: that’s right. How ever did you find that out?" gasped the amazed rustics. His broad chest swelling with gratifica tion. Inspector Burley, note hook in hand, proceeded to catechise the men. "Now, my good fellows. T must nsk you a few questions. Be sure you tell the ; truth, the whole truth and' nothing but j the truth." of the Jaw, Sir Wilfred said; “This lady and I are going to examine the road. Spoedle, you may go. Jodkins can wait and prevent any one from following us. He then walked quickly on. •■All right, sir. I'm with you. Me 11 soon fathom this, sir," replied the doughty inspector, hurrying after him. The path lay pure and fair before them. No wheel marks save those of Sir Jasper's carriage lined the snow. The hoof-prints of the solitary horse were distinct. Not a single human foot-prir.t was to be seen. Under the hedgerows and by the ulpes of the wood lurked no sign of any traveler. Two or three tiny tracks of bird or rabbit there were—nothing more. The wheel-marks were at times a little uneven, a trilie confused. • It was very dark last night after the snow had ceased; there was no moon." remarked Miss Heron, meditatively. . "That would account for the driving being j unsteady.” The first half mile revealed no trace of j struggle or tragedy. Turning a slight bend | of the road, they had gone but a few I paces when Miss Heron, whose quick eyes j had been taking In < very detail, cried j suddenly: “See !-t here!” Following the direction of her pointing ! finge r her companions could discern an J ominous stain on the snow a few yards beyond. The young man experienced a horripila tion of the flesh, even Miss Heron, usual ly so self-controlled, could r.ot restrain a. shudder at the dread suggestion of this Mot upon the whiteness. But Inspector 1 Burley, who had waxed fat battening upon horrors, suffered frmo no such delicacy of feeling. Marching close to the tell-tale spot, and posing beside it. his chest thrown well out. one hand in the breast of his , coat, the other extended toward the | dark splash tainting the t*ow. he spoke in an important, magistorial-sour.ding! voice. “Sir Wilfred and lady.” we stand now on the identical scene of the crime. It was on this Vre spot where Sir Jasper Wel land was murdered—'ere lies the fust drop of blood!” (To bo Continued.) THEY TIN MIT Clever Women Who Make a Fortune Every Year With Their Spring Rhymes. MRS. DELAND’S “FLOWERS THAT MAY HATH BROLQHT; John Strange Winter “Does It Up Thoroughly" Ruskin Taught Her. MORE MONEY IN WRITING BLOSSOMS THAN IN RAISIN'i You can turn May flowers into money if you have the trick of doing it. Mar garet Deland, John Strange Winter, Kate Douglas Wiggin, Amelia Barr, Mrs. Burton Harrison. Mary E. Wil kens, Mrs. Humphrey Ward and John ; Oliver Hobbes all do it. They make a j fortune every’ spring out of the bios- : soms of May; and they accomplish it, not by raising the blossoms, but by tell- I ing other people how beautiful they are. Margaret Deland goes into the spring poetry business wholesale. She has a woman friend in Boston who loves her rhymes and encourages her to write them. One of her most successful is called MAY. Like drifts of tardy snow On leafless branches cau3ht, The cherry blossoms blow, That May has brought. one of the most deliciously a; : ginning: The moon shines pale in tin sky, Like a pearl set over a 1 blushes; There’s many a homeward I ■ air, And’ the hedges thrill thrushes. John Oliver Hobbes is sa 1 • , exhausted all her brightn«>s and to be London litterateur repli Hobbes's critics by writing: Sweet the rose, the lily \ Each one breath of May r -» So with thy talents gift": Where on - I< ft oil She writes cleverly t . rhymes that are only by the sparkle of her pr > Mrs. Burton Harrison Jo^L^SS * *1*3 seven famous women wh.Lt urn mav flowers into money.__ The men were only too charmed to com ply. This was their ideal detective, one j who interrogated all who had even the slenderest connection with the crime, and who listened w hile they aired their views on the subject. "What is your name, my man? Jacob Jodkins? Good. Age, forty-one. V here , do you live?” Sir Wilfred had been growing mcrre and more impatient. This Jack in the office kept delaying over every trifle. liny were losing precious time. Every instant wast ed made the murderer’s escape mors- se cure. He was biting his Hi in the effort to keep his self-control when the sound of foot-steps quickly appro:* ■ hing fell on hi* ear. Glancing round, h* hr held > tnll !ad> walking smartly in his direction. : Her figure was slender and youthful. 1 but her abundant hair was white, though her complexion was ftc-a and her cj«s as clear as a girl’s. Sh’ wore a smat. tailor-made tweed costume, hound with , leather, and a black beaver hat, while she carried a stout ebony staff. Immeasurably rejoiced at her appear ance. Wilfred hurried towards her. "My poor boy,” she exclaimed, pressing his hands warmly, "how you must ho suf fering! I heard just now. and 1 thought I would walk over to see you, for I lu on that a desire not to intermeddle so often keeps people away, that one s saddest moments are also one's loneliest. "Miss Heron. 1 should have gone mad in another moment if you had not come. Listen to that babbling fool asking those idiots silly questions. Would you believe that he is the special detective sent down from Scotland Yard to investigate awful thing?” The news by this eime bad been hin.’d abroad, so that despite the early period of j the hour and the unfrequented nature ot j the path. Inspector Burley had collected quite a little audience around himself. •’Has he seen the road traversed by the dog cart last night vet?” asked Miss Heron in a low voice. ”No: he has stood gassing there for quite ten minutes.” "Well, send those men away, ar.d tel! him that we are going to examine it. That will bring him.” Turnins sharply to the tardy emissary COLLECTED IUS DEBT. But a Cyclone Struck Newspaper nml Town in Consequence. An old time printer had the floor, ar.d tolil how he once had to elect a < ••n gressman in order to collect a debt of $> •• • You know that in those days." he said, “one of us fellows that has a first-class license lo travel could work at the case, read proof, write a leader, sel-.t the mi— 1 cellany, furnish the local, make up the forms and run off the Issue. I'd been making the circuit by easy stages, living lo suit myself, and seeing the world from the surface to the depths. "The wor>t employer l ran against was ; up in the Northwest. H<- was bright , rough, hut of the wild and woolly type, and it was hard to round him u,» at the office as often as once a week. He was backing a certain candidate for i'ongr> -ss, and iiad a sure thing. I had beeen •sto<«» off so long with ord» rs on the bar, the restaurant, the barber and the laundry that I got hungry for cash and told thu boss that ho must settle. •'He tore around as if lie was the fellow wronged, thr. atoned to r.,mo\e me. from the earth, and notified mo that I was to leave as soon as election was o\ < r. • N,, use telling you l was mad clear through. Two days before the election I wa nt to the committbe managing the op position candidate. I made a deal with th. m to turn the paper right around, give their m in a redhot indorsement and de nounce our man in t*rms that wou.d knock him outside the ropes. 1 was to have $lm) for doing the writing, get tho $C. due me and leave $•>".' for the boss. "1 got the paper out and '.hen skedad dled to escape the cyclone. It took the State troops to maintain anything like order the n*\t day. Th. paper was mob bed. explanaory circulars were issued and the whole country was scour.-1 tn search of me. But th:- harm was done and 1 had trade i Fongr. ss tt in order tc collect a little bill.”—Df'rcit Free Press. EVIDENCE AGAINST HER. "So you won’t concede that woman Is man's intellectual superior? "No; not while she can’t drink a cup of tea without sticking out her little finger.”—Chicago Record. On banks which face the sun, Still shy in pretty doubt. White violets have begun, To look about. The fresh winds gaily bring The orchard's faint perfume, And purple lilacs swing Their feathery bloom. Mrs. Humphry Ward does up verses as neatly as siio does up prose. Of late, however, she has given up the idea of publishing her poetry in book form and contents herself with serving it t<> publication to be used and forgot ten. Jamos Ptiyn estimates that in the last free years Mrs. Ward has cleared $2«ifl.000 in fiction alone, which was as much as George Klliott made in her lifetime; so it is no wonder that she does not labor over rhymes. One of her daintiest spring poems was on the wild flower, in which she saw one of those wonderful moral lessons taught in "David Grieve:" In the rank grass the dandelion Lifteth its sturdy head, While tended, doth the lily pine, Its home a garden bed. Mrs. Kate Douglas Wiggins, or "Miss Kate" as she is railed in her Silver street kindergarten in San Francisco, writes verses while doing housework. She is one of those versatile women who ran dance a plantation breakdown for you. If your ears are tired she soothes them with a song of her own composi tion. if it is your head that aches she writes verses that tell of green hills far away. Some of her best work has been done on the spur of the moment. She is the wife of a wealthy gentleman who divides his time between London and America. AmHie Rives, as her per name still Is. though she is now an Italian prin cess, made so much with her misce* laneous j>ooms 'luring the two years she wrote that, her father, a wealthy Vir ginia plant-r nnd trader, put a stop to the enormous sums paid her and de clined to have her checks raised by the publishers. It was too much for so young and inexperienced a writter to receive, he. said. Amelie Rives's spring poems had all the touch of love in them cioty writer because hhe i be a woman of aristocrat if !. has kept her place in go d *■ r< writes, however, for money, amusement, and has tun muse to a considt ration > i ' sea grasses. She writes < order, gets well paid f< may truthfully be said t out of May flowers. Joiin Strange Winter ing things up thorough 1 ■ ■ a dear friend of her gii the magic of a well She writes little thing story without many "< ■: I A rose all pc? 11 Idown Down in the dusty -tr» • ’ A woman’s fa<<-, all lin< 1 Beholding it. grow Oh, rose, hold thou that p To tell of < ar’h's sweet s d, A stop up an th tired way, A seutinel from God! Mary I’. Wilkens is said t fu-ed ’■) writ * a four-line st; ••May” for $•">1 with ns min Elizabeth Stuart Phelps W::* $lo.000 for a "snappy” life i Miss Wilkens gets $30 a • May flower verses as rend.N I accept a cent a word. Hh* ! them off with dizzy rat country home, fifteen m ton. and she is fast r* Amelia Parr standpoint in r she can write: “I can- o you this spring, n >r t * o the following April. ' ' takes me right, I wdl rhyme for your May • An uptown finishing York decided Jo tall Mi liver a series of talks but the following day r half the students scr. upon slips of paper :• "May” and "day.” “ray the exclusion of other which the faculty agn* ' resolution to call Mrs. P " nature take her cour-* dents in the matter of I ,, GRACE HAMMOND )