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V /\^v%nk i rvrvri oome LiO.oa ' -1_..IN.. WOMAN'S WORLD Prom green to red Dame Fashion has ] turned with startling suddenness, says a ' writer in the “Philadelphia Inquirer.” No sooner have all women invested their spare cash, and, incidentally, their last penny of pin money iu getting green for hat and gown and hose, than the fickle dame who arbitrates the modes declares that green shall be laid aside and red put on instead. The new red is not a geranium red, nor is it a tomato red, nor can it be called cardinal. Vermillion, crimson or any of those familiar shades. It is very far from being the dark autotnobile which held the centre of the stage early in the ■ spring, and it is nothing like the crushed strawberry which has long been known as the red of summer. It is clear fruit red. Fruit red is a shade borrowed from the ripe fruit, tt matches the ripe straw berry. the luscious raspberry, the centre of the watermelon, the outside of the ■ pomegranite and the red of the ripest j side of the peach. It is a coior which looks as though it were awake, a color which, while uot brilliant, is good enough to eat. That is, fruit rod as it actually j W.V'S. Upon hats you see It, not in the tone I alone, but in the actuality. Cherries, i strawberries, raspberries on the stem, : plums, very small peaches, little apples ; of the variety known as “love apples,” all : are grouped aaid worn, or worn separate ly, to trim the backs of hats or the sides. Fruits are also arranged in the middle of bunches of ribbon, ribbon choux as they are called, and put on as bust and belt bows. At the lawn party, for it is now the season of the lawn party—you notice many of the shades of red mingling and combining most harmoniously; in fact, this is the only color which goes well with j itself. Green becomes jealous of its sis- I ter shade i monize is very difficult, but with red it is different, and all reds-see mable to dwell in one family. • Mrs. Arthur Paget wore at a lawn par ty—an afternoon affair—a gown of peach red lawn. It bad a silk finish, and its lin ing was peach, red silk. The lining, if so handsome a thing can be called by so homely a name, had a bend of lace set In across the bust. The lace was the filet lace which has so captured the feminine fancy, and it was put in insertion fashion, from under arm seam to under-arin seam, right across the front. The silk lawn wss absolutely plain over this handsome lining and looked more like a veiling. Tiie smi-skirt was managed in the jame harmonious fashion, but in a differ ent way. Here the filet lace began at the nelt, and was extended downward in pan els. There were six panels on the skirt, the longest being in tiie middle of the front, and the shorter ones at the sides and back; then came one of those great frills around the foot, side-plaited and trained. Rose petals are much used in making ©r rather in trimming summer gowus. You do not buy a new summer dress ■ now, but you remodel your old one so that it will carry you through the re mainder of the season. That this is an i important thing can be at ouce tnder stood, for the season is by no means at an end, and gowns must be made pre sentable for the next few weeks. Very often the most important part of a season comes just at the close, for now ; all have entered into the spirit of the summer, and where there were a few en tertainments early, a great many can non be numbered, and these are much more elegantly gowned than those of the rarly season. To remodel an old gown take roses pe tals. Yon may buy them in the shops. If you are away from home you can take In old artificial flower and cut it careful ly apart; take the petals and lay them upon your old lawn dress and sew them in place. Do it carefully for a cheap trimming is worse than none. This is one way to cover up spots and an ex cellent way to rejuvenate an old gown. If it so please you, group the petals in email, careless designs; and this is really the prettiest way to arrange them. A handsome gown, in sea shell pink batiste, was scattered with the petals of an old Bilk rose; groups of half a dozen were ■fcppliqued upon the skirt and upon the Waist, and upon the upper parts of the iBleeves. It made a charming trimming, and l each group was finished with a little shir ’ ring of Lilliputian ribbon in pale pink, gathered upon each edge and put in a circle around the groups of petals. It is appalling to think of the work npon the new gowns, and absolutely ter rifying to look forward to fall. Then the cloth gowns will be worn and the work must be very carefully done. London whispers that the new cloth gowns will have lace inlaid under the yokes and in the skirts. This means very careful handling, for cloth is heavy and the light treatment which is possible With the delicate mulls- and sheer fabrics nf Bummer would never pass muster on the broadcloths, ladS1’" cloths and the cashmere and the satin' serges of fall. But why borrow trouble, for each sea ton brings its compensations, and, whan Ityles become complicated, the manufac turers very kindly adapt their weaves to lie modes and you are aftle to buy fagot pitching or hemstitching, cat stitching and cross stitching, all beautifully done by machine, ready to be made into the up-to-date gowns of fall and winter. There is a possibility that accordion plaited skirts will return and a certainty that tucks will stay in style. On the new cloth gowns there is a trimming run ning up and down between the tucks, and very often this trimimng is handsome and elaborate, though very narrow. It is applied to the surafee of the goods and is one of* the prettiest and most noticeable features of the dress. * * . There is nothing that keeps a man at home so surely as a good “muddle" room, says the Philadelphia Public Ledger,” and if one of these little tem ples to the goddess of disorder were set aside in every house we should hear far less of the late home comings of hus bands and the bad hours of sons. The man soon shakes down into his “muddle” room like a homing pigeon in its loft, and when he has fixed up home made shelves in every possible corner, and filled those shelves with the thousand odds and ends of lumber he sets such store by, he is as happy and as proud as a dog with two tails. No longer does he feel a nuisance to himself and everybody else when he de sides to do a little carpentering; no long er does he edge into the kitchen with a hang dog look to know if he may convert the scullery into a photographic" dark room, notwithstanding the fact that it is washing day and the charwoman is in possession. Neither is he ashaedm when he brings home half a ton of dog-eared second hand books which he has bought as a bargain at wastepaper prices, and which he intends to read when he gets time— which he will never do. There is room for everything in the “muddle” room. Its generous walls arc as expansive for the reception of rubbish as the lining of a small boy's pocket. It finds room for books, wood, electrical ap paratus, photographic material, scientific instruments, second-hand fiddles, old clothes, shavings, wastepaper, boots, skates, stuffed pheasants in glass cases, bicycles, pictures, china, doorknobs, cu riosities, gardening implements, tobacco tins, poultry food and 'a thousand and one odds and ends which slip up in every house during its tenancy by man. Of course, the evil day must come when even the “muddle” room must be cleared out in the interests of public health. In this case the easiest course to fol low is to- take another house and there start life and the “muddle” room anew. • m Washing is an art and needs to be learned as well as anything else, accord ing to the London “Express.” Everybody can wash after a fashion, bnt not every body can so turn out handkerchiefs, silk and lace blouses and ties and other wash able belongings that a professional laundress would not scorn to own them as her work. It is emphatically an ac complishment worth learning, if only for the sake of redttcing one's laundry bill. Dissolved soap is a necessity, and is made by finely shredding a quarter of a pound of yellow soap into one quart of water and boiling it till dissolved. A quantity can be made at one time and kept for use when required. When washing flannel and woollen goods never rub or twist them. Squeeze them out in tepid lather, to which (for white flan nels) a little ammonia is added. Wash thoroughly on both sides, rinse carefully, shake and dry in the air, not in the sun. Iron when nearly dry with a cool iron. White silk blouses, ties and handker chiefs are all washed in the same way. First steep them in cold water, with a little borax added, wash in a lather of warm water and dissolved soap, rinse well, pass through slightly blued water, fold in a clean cloth, pass through the wringer, and iron on the wrong side when nearly dry with a cool iron. A lit tle methylated spirit added to the last rinsing water gives a desirable gloss. A dessert spoonful to a pint of water is ample. For colored silk, do not steep it in borax water or pass it through blued water. If you fear the color will run, steep it in salt and water for a short time, but be careful to rinse all the salt out before washing. . * * One of the most charming of evening cloaks is a really shapeless affair in sun ray accordioned white broadcloth. It is full length (almost to the floor) and falls in graceful pleats from the very neck. The long glowing sleeves are pleated in the same style and fall in such accord with the rest of the pleats that they seem in one until an arm is raised. A deep cape collar of Irish crotchet falls over the shoulders, while a high turn-over of turquoise blue velvet strap ped with white protect the throat. There are also long, fancifully shaped tabs fall i ing over the cape collar. These, like the | collar, are of velvet strapped with the cloth. There’s always something very distinguished about these lovely white cloaks. They do not soil so quickly, ' either, and are easily cleaned when they do. . * . At a dinner recently the ices were served in rose forms. Heal sprays of rose leaves were on each plate, the ice rose laid upon them, and real stems in serted. HALL AND STAIRWAY. These Should Strike the Keynote For an Attractive Bouse Interior. Why is it that the average homes of many intelligent, fairly prosperous peo ple are often such'libels on good taste that one is really pained to see the un sightly wall papers, the crayons in sil ver frames, the showy couches, the fancy oak tables, the patent rockers, until there does not seem to be one restful spot in a room that otherwise might have been attractive? A writer in the New Idea Magazine presents the following among a number of use ful hints for bettering such a state of affairs. She says: Take the exact amount spent in such a room, make up your mind to spend some thought and time in perfecting your plans and making your purchases, and you ought to achieve a happy re sult. The house always represents its mistress, and if she is a woman of taste and refinement her home will express these qualities just as surely as do her manners. Let us begin with the hall and say that it is rather a small affair, with one window, an open stairway and sev eral doors leading into other rooms. First, as to the walls. If a hall is moderately well lighted, I would sug gest a paper with a medium sized figure. The tapestry effects so much in vogue are very attractive and can be had as cheaply as 10 cents a roll. Another point, if you have what are known as cottage ceilings, say 8 feet 6 inches or 9 feet, don’t pull them about your ears by using an eighteen inch border, such as the clerk will in sist is the style, but run your side wall to the ceiling, and then, should your choice have been a stripe—which, by the way, gives an added effect of height—buy an extra bolt or two, as the case may be, and trim the stripe, using it for a small border or binder. You thus lessen the expense and add to the effect. One exceedingly pretty hall I have seen is hung with sage green paper in two tones, showing a small lozenge de sign—or diaper, to be strictly technical —with white woodwork. As the floor was old and poor, it had been carpeted with plain green wool filling in a tone somewhat deeper than the wall paper. One pretty rug lay in the wider space, between the door and the stair foot, just before an old mahogany card ta ble, which held the card tray and a brass pot full of nasturtiums. The stair turned half way up and was lighted by a small window above the landing. A curtain of white organdie STAIRWAY WITH WINDOW HALF WAY UP. printed with sprays of yellow roses and leaves hung straight and rather full from a small brass rod set just in side the window, casing. This little curtain gave a flowery, out of door look to the window and was infinitely prettier and more appropriate than the cheap stained glass usually set in such places by builders of inexpensive houses. Unless your hall is well lighted and of ample width pictures and bric-a brac chosen for bold color contrasts are more effective than those whose ! charm lies in delicacy of execution or j color. For this reason casts that do not need too much space and perspec ! tive to show well—a tile, a mask or ; some detail of ornament—are useful, and Indian baskets and blankets can , not be improved upon for effect in such | places. Faslilon News. With the strictly tailor suit we may take it on the best authority that the shaped flounce is no more. This has j worked Its little system exhaustively ! and consequently earned every right to cease to be for a time. Broad horizontal tucks, narrow flat plaits and wide box plaits struggle for the place of the vanishing shaped vo lant. The clinging cut of skirt, with an evasive outward flow beginning a short distance below the knee, is still in fa I vor, but it may be made to clear the floor all around a geod two inches. A dapper little close fitting &oat is ! chic for walking exercise or yachting. ' Some of these coats have shoulder capes fashioned to dip to a point at the back, while the portion covering the shoulder is invariably buttoned back to produce a flat, hoodlike effect. Pineapples For Canning-. In peeling pineapples be particular to take out all the “eyes” or the fruit j will look specked. Do not slice a pine I apple for canning, but with a silver fork tear, the fruit from the core in small pieces. Latest Way to Seal Jelly. Use melted paraffin for sealing jel lies, Jams and marmalade. It will j form a perfectly airtight cover and is the quickest and easiest way to seal them. Save the paraffin for use again next year. THE FORAY OF THE HBWM&JHiMON. RANK Mackenzie javile (KftAfcF EUVfiS) i _*=-( COPYRIGHT I699i « BY /» ■* + * F.M.SAVBLE., •6„ 1 ‘A TALE ©F*5^. -xne'y wanaerea up tne Droaa stair way together and into the long wards, the sights and sounds and smells sink ing into the soul of Barr’s companion with a familiarity that rolled back as a curtain the last two magnificent years. He was no longer the county magnate, the yacht owner, the proprietor of a string of Newmarket cracks. He was just plain Billy Desmond again, and the white faces that stared from above the edges of the blue check coverlets roused in him a professional instinct and—believe it as you may—a profes sional pity that left no room for other and more prosperous emotions. He stopped and looked curiously at a diet card or two and patted a child’s thin hand that was picking idly at the bed cover. • Anytmng out oi me common, oiu chap?” he queried. “N-no,” said Barr cautiously. “Rath er curious tracheotomy that. Child here for common fracture of the leg. She was playing with a tin soldier the mother bought and swallowed it. We had to pierce the trachea In a hurry to prevent choking. That’s a strange case over in the comer too. It’s a beg gar picked up insensible Wapping way. When he came to, he could only say one word, or rather make one sound. Sir William made it out to be a form of aphasia—splinter pressing on the brain. He operated. Quite right, splin ter was there. He makes any amount of sounds now, but the worst of it is we can’t understand one of ’em.” They were standing opposite a cot in which a white faced, bearded man thrashed wearily at the blankets and chattered to himself in a torrent of hoarse, guttural words. He gazed eagerly at the pair as they approached, and the storm of soliloquy rose higher. He sat up and addressed them, gesticu lating violently. Suddenly Desmond staid himself and stopped short at the bed foot. “Great heavens!” he declared. “The chap’s talking Finnish!” “Finnish!” quoth Barr with an In dulgent smile. “What bn earth d’you ! know of Finnish, Billy?” “Not much, old man, But I’ve been ; up the Baltic for three months out of each year for the last two, so I know something. As far as I can make out he’s jawing infernal nonsense, but that it's the nonsense of Finland I'm prepared to bet my hat." He turned to the bed and said a few hesitating words. A light leaped to the hopeless, weary ! eyes, and the lips left their aimless : motion, gaping wide in astonishment. Then a yell resounded through the quiet of the ward. The patient sprang incontinently from his bed and flung his arms round Desmond’s neck. Be fore the latter could repel this out rageous assault two bearded lips had pressed a passionate salute upon his forehead. Then with triumphant ges ticulation the storm of words roared on. xne warn was moruny auu puysicai i ly paralyzed. Doctor, nurses and pa i tients stai'ed upon this astounding rupture of the decorum of the room entirely unable to voice their emotions. The mouthed babblings of the Finn smote upon a silence born of stupefac I tion. Desmond laughed gleefully. “Well, old chap, how's that? Bring him somewhere for me to talk to him comfortably. He’s simply wild with j excitement and delight at finding a I Johnny who understands him. It won’t do for me to collogue with him 1 here. It would upset the ward.” "If you’re quite sure that he’s not a 1 dangerous lunatic,” began Barr. ! “That’s right enough,’’ interrupted | Desmond, turning toward the door. “You send him along to me, and I’ll ! find out all about him. He’s as sane as you or me now. Bend him along.” Barr shrugged his shoulders and made no further opposition. At his order two attendants came forward and helped the man Into the regula tion slop suit of the convalescent. Sup porting him, they followed Desmond down to the house surgeon’s private room. There they left him pouring out words and yet more words at his new found friend. One of the attend ants thrust his tongue into his cheek as he retired into the passage. He winked toward his companion and tapped his forehead significantly. “You’re right,” said the other. “Both of ’em, I should say.” Then they pass ed back to routine grinning. Barr went on through the wards, and an hour had gone by before he finished his rounds. When he returned to his room again, the patient was still talk ing, talking, but the first passionate outburst had subsided Into a slow, ceaseless stream of monologue. Des mond, his elbows leant upon the table, was staring across at him. His eyes were alight with an Interest that his usual stout complacency Utterly failed to conceal. “My goodness, Arthur!” he called as Barr entered. “Come here and pinch me, old chap. Either I’m dreaming the worst sort of nightmare or else we’ve got a chance before us that doesn’t happen to a man twice In a lifetime. Such things as I’ve beard!” Barr sniffed. “You must recollect, Billy, that the beggar’s only half wlt ted at present. Aphasia’s a rummy I thing. Probably he’s Just remembering I something that he’s dreamed or what •at. and thinks iff a reality. What’s he "v ’ 2. - ' - , ‘‘'i . in>cu %.cj m|g iu kcu ,v uu < "You shall hear afterward, old man. For the present get this beggar Into a private ward and the best of attend ance. I’ll stand the shot. I want him to buck up and get well—and as quick as possible too.” Barr did not look enthusiastic. “He’s ' been getting everything he wants so far,” he said stiffly. “We don’t ill treat th«m as a rule, even in the public wards.” Desmond chuckled joyously. “There, there, my sou, don’t be shirty. You for get I know the secrets of the slaughter house as well as you. I know he’s had the best of everything, but he hasn’t had the quiet he needs, or, rather, that I shall need, for I’m coming to see him every day. Next week he sails with you and me for Uloaborg, and very likely for one or two other places that you’ve never heard of. So don’t you be a hedgehog, but do as I tell you.” Barr stared at him in deepest aston ishment. “Good Lord!” he burst out. “You’re going to take this Yiddisker on your yrelit! Heavens above! Billy, you’re o.s demented as he is.” “Now, my good Arthur,- answered Desmond solemnly, “don’t you think I may know my own business as well as you do? Get this man comfortably in to a private ward, and then, but not before, you shall hear all there is to hear. What’s the good of arguing about things you don’t understand in the least?” ±sarr snruggea ms snouiuers ana dropped further discussion. In silence he touched the bell. Back came the two attendants and received their fur ther orders.- Desmond added a guttural word or two to the patient, and all three retired stairward. The Finn con tinued to wave his hand excitedly to ward his benefactor as he withdrew upward, and the flow of his grateful words died slowly into the emptiness of the passages. A door shut in the distance. The last echoes of his chat tering were still. Then Barr turned again to his friend. “Now perhaps,” said he, “you’ll be kind enough to explain yourself. What has this hopeless imbecile been stuffing you with?” The other looked at him with an air of compassion. He nipped the end of his cigar and spat a shred of leaf into the grate before he answered, settling himself comfortably into the recesses of his armchair. ! “What an old, fat headed, narrow minded customer you are, Arthur,” he began cheerfully. “Ever been out of England yet? No; now I come to think of it, you never have. Well, we’ll right all that presently. However, here goes for the romance, if you like to think it so. I swear to you it’s gospel truth. I feel it in my bones. The chap couldn’t have possibly imagined the thing. Be sides, I’ve heard myself—but that’s nei ther here nor there.” Barr shoved forward the other easy ; chair and reached for a cigarette. “Well, I’ll hear you,” he said, “but I draw it mild if it’s particularly sensa | tional. The practice of medicine doesn’t , Induce a high level of receptivity for the marvelous. Trot out your lie. I’ll reserve judgment till afterward.” CHAPTER II. A STRANGE TALE OUT OF THE NORTH. Desmond looked at Ills friend for a moment without speaking, puffing great clouds of smoke as he sought a clothing of suitable words for his rev elation. Then as the marvels of it swelled in his memory he dashed into it incontinent, forbearing oratory. “By gum, Arthur, it is a great game! The fellow’s name’s Lars—Lars Plad ja. What d’you think of that? Pic turesque and pretty original in East London, eh ? He comes from Skelligen, a village In the district—hanged If I remember the district, but it’s some where in northwest Finland and on the seaboard. There’ll be time enough to find out the geographical details. Shortly, his story is this: “He’s a woodman, or rather was when he was at home. He was em ployed on the estate of a magnate of sorts. I’ve forgotten his name, too, but It doesn’t signify. At any rate, his employer got into some mess with the government and doesn’t inhabit his an cestral halls. The government runs the concern on confiscation principles In the old chap's absence. “This man Pladja spends his time In the forests. Goes for days togethei among the pines and ^doesn’t see a soul. How he’s got to England he has only the ghostliest notion of. Thinks when he was imbecile”— “Oh, he knows he’s been dotty, then?” interrupted Barr. “That’s a fairly healthy sign at least.” “He knows right enoijgh, but he’s as sane as you or I now. Well, he thinks when he was In that state that he wandered on board some ship in Uleaborg, stowed away and got fired out in the port of London. He has some soft of misty reminiscence of being knocked about by a eross eyed scoundrel on board, but can’t re pa em ber much. He’s got here somehow, that’s the main point.” “That certainly seems the main point up to now,” agreed Barr. "Don’t Interrupt. Now enters the Villain of the piece. It seems he mar ' rled his wife In the face of strong op position from her people—levanted with her, tn fact. Her brother, whs V / -;:L - " seems xo nave Deen a particularly atrocious sort of Hcoundrel, never for gave him. The young woman was fair to look upon, and this deadly brute line hoped to make a bit by offering her to the highest bidder." “There seems sound commercial tact in that,” quoth Barr, “but I speak as a fool on feminine subjects.” “You do. Dry up. Our friend queer ed this pitch entirely, and his poison ous snake of a brother-in-law never I forgave him. Nothing happened for a time, but the other was on the watch. Now we insert the blue lights for the scmimiraculou8 touch. “One day Pladja was eating his grub beside a forest brook—or rather chan nel, for it was a drought summer— when in one of the pools he sees a metal rod sticking up among the peb- j bles and sand.” Barr stretched out his legs and guf fawed. “Bless your heart. Billy, the beggar’s stolen it out of the ‘Arabian Nights.’ How much for this priceless information?” “Nothing, you ass. Besides, the beg- j gar can’t read. Shut up and let me fin ish. He sees, as I say, a metal rod and pulls at it.” “Man is naturally a prehensile ani mal,” explained Barr. "His instincts would not permit him to do less.” “Pulls at it,” continued Desmond, paying no attention to this sarcasm, “and up it comes. He finds it’s soft metal and of a dull color, but in pull ing at it the bends and cracks upon it j showed bright. In point of fact it’s gold.” “What else?” queried Barr softly. “I j could have sworn it.” “At this,” went on Desmond excited-! ly, “he paddled into the water and be gan to dig and delve for all he was wort*. In a minute or two up came a cup and a little later a necklace. Then, as luck would have it, a cloudburst and thunderstorm came on, down came a deluge, and before he knew what was what the torrent was roaring away ten feet deep.” “The laws of nature are imperious,” said Barr. "Water must find its level.” “Well, that didn't put him out at all, because he knew that he could return when the storm was over and scoop in the remainder. He buried the cup and necklace, not wishing to excite suspi cion by bursting too much treasure on the community all at once, but the scepter—for that’s what it undoubted ly was, by his description—he cut up into little bits and took home. He sold it lump by lump to a money lender, and this old fool let the cat out of the bag. “So it came to the brother-in-law’s ears that his sister’s husband had got something worth selling. He came down like a cartload of brick. He de manded his share, and our friend very naturally told him to go to the devil. Then this stupendous villain began his tricks.” “It’s ‘Aii Baba and the Forty Thieves,’ Billy,” said Barr stolidly. “You can’t get away from it.” “Humbug! This was the way of it: The fellow in charge of the Skelligen estates was apparently just such an other brute. He was a relation of the former owner, as far as I can make out. As he was by no means a persona "It’s ‘All Baba and the Forty Thieves,’ Billy," said Barr stolidly. grata to the intelligent peasantry, he had a lieutenant and a couple of dozen soldiers to look after him. These two beauties went to the officer and trump- ! ed up some sort of charge against the unfortunate Lars and got him shoved into jail. What they did to him there Lord only knows, but some utter devil- j ishness, for there seems no doubt it was there he went off his head.” “Humph!" said Barr unbelievingly. “The question is. Wits he ever on it?” "He c-an't give any detailed account of the matter. All he remembers is that his wife was mixed up in it. It j was on seeing her in their hands that ] something cracked inside him—as he describes it—and he was endowed with the strength of ten. Somehow or other he must have hewed his way out. for the next thing he remembers he and his wife were outside in the forest, j After a bit his wife couldn’t move any 1 more. He realizes now that she must j have died then, but he says he didn’t j at the time. Directly after that he was alone and tearing through the forest. He must have visited and unearthed his bilrled treasure in some sort of in stinctive way, just as a dog scratches up its bones, for when he was on the ship he found the necklet round his neck.” “Query: Is it the same necklet?” ' quoth Barr. “Where is it, my most credulous young friend?” Desmond thrust his hand into his ] pocket and Hung a string of amber | beads upon the table. “There you are, 1 my unbelieving Thomas. Now let me go on.” And he resumed his tale as Barr examined the gold linked circlet. “He thinks there were a lot of wolves in the forest, and that he played with them and laughed to them from the tgee tops, but that qiay well be a bit : i . THE WEELITTLES IN CAIRO. X > Aw '//‘//rf’rfs L • ot /* /-fir fr/sf/n k rf- fffzJmrs. M ITIND THE KEEPER OF THE CAFE. oi imagination, as you suggest. r>ui that doesn’t matter as far as the rest of the story’s concerned.” “Hang it, Billy,” remonstrated Barr, “don’t gag at a wolf or two after swal lowing a buried hoard! Let’s have the wolves by all means. Most effective touch.” “All right. Grin if you like. You won’t put me off it. Now he’s in the wildest sort of state at finding I under stand him, and lie’s begged me by all I hold sacred to take him back to his home and give him a chance to see his desire upon his enemies. 1 told him he was a fool for his pains to wander back to a place where, as sure as eggs are eggs, he'll only be clapped in pris on again, and probably a worse thing than before come upon him. But it’s no use. It wasn’t at first by any means that he let on about this—only as a means of bribing me to take him along. He’d spent himself first in explaining his tale of woe without any allusion to this treasure trove. Now, seriously, what d’yoU think?” “I think very seriously indeed,” an swered Barr, “for I perceive that you and he are lunatics who differ only in degree. Probably in some of his sailor wanderings he picked up this old neck lace somehow—perhaps honestly, per haps not—and evolved the remainder out of a whisky or vodlti heated Im agination. But I know you well enough to be perfectly aware that what you call your mind is already made up and that you mean sailing up to Skeleton— or whatever the outlandish place may be—to dust after this fantastic phan tom of a lunatic’s brain. So be it. It’ll be a jaunt anyway. I shall perhaps prevent your getting into the most dis astrous kind of scrape, so I’il come. But, O Lor’, the blatant absurdity of the business!” “Well, there you’re talking wild, old man,” said Desmond, getting up and straddling across the hearth rug. “This isn’t the first time by many that I’ve heard of viking treasure being burled up north. If you come to ■think of it and consider how those old customers were always raiding south, it’s a won der that more of the stuff hasn’t come down the centuries. In my opinion, there’s more of it buried than has ever been found.” “That, I should think, is excessive ly probable,” said Barr dryly, “so why go paddling after it in a mountain tor rent? Much better form a syndicate of exploration and discovery and send other fools. The Russian government will let you have a concession of all Finland probably for a couple of fiv ers. What on earth should bring scepters and necklets into the bed of a stream?” “That’s the convincing thing about it,” said Desmond. “If the beggar had only come with a tale of buried treasure, I might ha^e thought with J you. But, my boy, it isn't likely he : would imagine the stream incident, j It’s a trifle too improbable unless you ; cpnslder other testimony. It’s just j here that history backs him up. It’s well known that the old vikings used to bury their special chiefs by turning aside the course of a stream, putting the corpse in a hole in the bed of it and then turning on the tap again. What they did for their chiefs you may bet a very considerable part of your income they did for their worldly goods. Gold's more valuable than even heroic carrion. Anyway, I’m going to have a look, see? And you’re coming along to call fair. Place the Domini, or must I use force?” Barr yawned aggressively and look ed upon his friend with contemptuous j pity. “You always were an enthusias- | tically dogged ass, Billy.” he began, j “and I s’pose you always will be till j you get a good fall. Yes, I’m coming, but if you think”— Desmond caught him by the elbow i and twisted him out of his chair, j “There, Arthur, that’s quite enough, j That’ll suffice to relieve your con- I science. Come along with me to the ! club, and then we'll see what sport the I town affords. If you preached till doomsday, you wouldn’t turn me, so drop it.” He reached his hand over to a peg. lifted down a hat and dumped It on the other's head. Thrusting him and his I expostulations before him. he drove j him from the room. The sound of the j wordy warfare grew thinner downlthe j TW<» Ultflt (llHira (if UlA VlOfi- ' ... . A pital swung to. Their altercations final ly lost themselves in the swirl of the London trafilc. Thus was the foray conceived and begun. CHAPTER III. CONTRABAND OP WAR. A glassy sheen lay upon the face of the waters, dimmed and shivered now and again by little eatspaws off the land. The white wings of the Hendrik Hudson were spread, but as often as not flapped idly against the mast when the breeze died, rose and died again. Over the narrows of the sound lay & haze, simmering in the April sun. The white cottages of Vaedbek and other longshore villages nestled into the green of the beech woods, showing spotlessly against the glare. It was a perfect day in a perfect Scandinavian spring. Barr rolled, stretched nimseir and then sank luxuriously back into his lair among the cushions. His face ex pressed a beatitude of content. His cigar smoke encircled him like a lus cious halo. His yawn concentrated in to its expansiveness the languorous de lights of seven days of uninterrupted idleness. He blinked upon the Danish shores with a placid sense of propri etorship in their beauties as by right of discovery. He was soaked and surfeit ed in a warm bath of sea breeze and sunshine. His blood ran within him as wine. To him entered Desmond from the companionway. A businesslike air and the importance of command lay thick upon him. He bawled his orders with no uncertain sound, and the whir of the wheel spokes followed swift upon his words. Before a sudden gust the prow crept round to starboard. The yacht began to nose inland to where Copenhagen showed dim in the man tle of the heat haze, girt with the for est of her shipping. Barr raised his eyebrows. “Going in, old man?” he queried. Desmond nodded. “Yes; going to call for an hour.” “You said'you shouldn’t stop short of Uleaborg. Why this waywardness?” Desmond shrugged his shoulders. “There were all these rumors of war before we came out. Best to hear what’s happened, if 1 can. I couldn’t make out what those men meant that we hailed just now. Something about Russia. If we’re going to shove our heads into the bear’s jaws, we may as well know how we stand.” Barr groaned loudly. “If that isn’t my luck exactly! Here am I on my first real holiday for two years, and then the blighted emperor of Russia must step in to spoil the whole show. I should have thought my little egg bas ket might lave been spiled without plunging the nations into war. But, no; my luck is the kind that impresses it self upon you with stupendous and carefully thought out cataclysms. With nny ordinary folk it would have been measles, or a broken arm, or, at most, a shipwreck. With me it’s either drop the whole business or a probable five years of a Russian fortress, or, may hap. a bullet. Well, well, man’s born to trouble as the sparks fly upward. I’m sorry my eternal destiny has drag ged you into its baneful orbit. Billv.” (To Be Continued.) •-♦ Words, Words, Words. The latest achievements in statistics, says the London “Graphic,” is the com putation that the average nurnbef owmf potation that the average number of words spoken by a man in a year is 11.800,000. Eloquent by themselves, these figures become still more eloquent if we take the trouble to express them in terms of literary composition. Doing the necessary sums we find that this out put of talk amounts approximately to 2,000 magazine articles, or to 390 novel ettes, or to 118 novels by Mr. Guy Boothby, or to 59 of Hall Caine's most colossal works. One really hardly knows whether to be more dazzled or dismayed at this estimate of the output of words. Perhaps, iu an age in which literary workers are taking to the use of phono graplis, alarm should be the prevailing sentiment. Even the productivity tor Dumas and his collaborators pales into insignificance when we consider what this labor-saving machine has made pos sible to a really popular, fertile and ava ricious author; and critics may well trem ble at the prospect iu store for them when such an author really appreciates and exploits his opportunities.