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THE CHARITY GIRL
By EFFIE A. ROWLANDS CHAPTER XXI. Naturally when Jack Glendurwood came heme from Beignton the truth about Sheila came out. M I happened to call at Dinglewood for a moment. I wanted to apeak to Twist about that horse he said he would buy, and found the fair Sheila with that Fair fax girl and her Lancelot all ready to ■tart off for a ride. They proposed ac companying me, and I agreed, though I could have done very well without them." Audrey laughed as he related the re sults of the ride, and Jean's gray eyes glowed with triumph. "I wish I had told him what that odious woman said," she observed to Audrey, when they were alone in the drawing room; "he ought to know of her insolence." "It would only vex him, and I don't really mind," Audrey answered, though she had been much hurt for the moment, "besides, it Is all so vulgar and disagree able. Why should we trouble about it?" On" the last day of October Willie Fullerton came down to Craiglands, greatly to Audrey's delight. "Now, Jean, I want you to be very nice to him; he is a dear boy," she de clared. "The dear boy being a good five years older than your ladyship," laughed Jean; but she found it a very easy task to be nice to Willie Fullerton. His open admiration for Audrey won her heart, and she felt that before long this pleasant young Englishman and her self would be good friends. To begin with, they both cordially detested Mrs. Fairfax and her daughter, and,that was a very good foundation to commence upon. The week following Mr. Fullerton's arrival was, to Jean Thwait's thinking, the pleasantest that had come since she had left Broadborough. To Audrey, it was quietly happy; the Dinglewood folk gave her a little breath ing space; Sheila and Lady Daleswater having gone up to town to arrange about the masked ball, and she had her Jack nearly all to herself, for Jean and Willie Fullerton fraternized warmly, and were much together. Audrey's letters to her mother that week .unconsciously betrayed the feeling of her heart. She wrote free ly, joyously, not in the strained fashion that had seemed to hang about her of late, and Constance Fraser, away alone, bearing her great sufferings with cour age and patience, rejoiced aa she read. Alas! How little did she think those letters were the last happy ones Audrey would write for many a long, weary day. Jack. i*z. tired out with perpetual ex citement and worry, basked in the sun shine of his girl-wife's love, and reveled in the gladness her presence gave him. Two days before the msaked ball Sheila and Lady Daleawater returned to Dingle wood, and drove over te Craiglands to discuss all the arrangements with the Glendurwoods. They found the four young people out in the grounds playing lawn tennis. "I have come to ask Lady John what she is going to wear at the ball. Oh, I know It is a great secret, but I will be tray it to no one," Sheila said to Jack, aa they walked away, and then she tried to catch hia eye aa she gave a very palpa ble aigh. Audrey good-naturedly offered to .show her gown and domino to both Sheila and Lady Daleswater. Jean Thwait had been carefully excluded from the invitations. "Lovely! Beautiful! Exquisite!" cried Sheila, aa Murray unfolaed the aheeny satins and held them forth for Inspection. "<lnd this is your domino* Lady John?" ' "Blade and silver. It waa Jack's idea. lan't it pretty? Look at the design over the ahoulders." 1 "I wish you would put it on; I should jike to tee it so audi," Sheila next ob • aerved. * Lady Daleswater had not vouchsafed to come op and aee the finery, ahe waa In far too bad a temper. "An artist from London la coming down to sketch us all. He arrives to day. I think he had better begin atj once. I wish yen would allow him to aketch yours, Lady John." "I shall be delighted," Audrey aaid, cordially. "Shall he come here or muat I go to him?" | Sheila's cheeka were quite rosy. "Oh, there ia no need to trouble you. Just send Murray over with it She might drive back with ua If you can spare her." Audrey, only too glad to find Sheila speaking so pleasantly, agreed at once, and so, when the Dinglewood carriage " drove away, Lady John'a maid rode in it, carefully guarding the box containing the black and silver domino. Audrey meant to have told Jean about thia, but all ideaa went out of her head aa the carriage disappeared, and they rushed to finish tfieir game. e e • o o • o "I aay, baby, here's a bore," Jack Glen durwood aaid, aa he entered Craiglands at dinner time en the evening of Sheila's ball. "I can't go with you to-night, after all." "Oh, Jack!" Audrey clasped her hands In despair. "I am disappointed. I don't think I shall go, then. What ia the mat ter?" "Benson haa telegraphed me he must aee me at once on important business; something gone wrong with the election, I suppose. I'll get back as quickly aa possible, and come on to you If I can." "Tour dress looks ao lovely. Tou would make such an exquieite Black Brunawicker, Jack." "Well," laughed Jack, kissing her, M I will try and get into my fine tegs; at least, if I cannot manage the Black Brunswicker, I will don my gray domino. You will be able to pick me out, won't you, fairy, even though x am masked?" "And you me?" Audrey added. "Don't forget to look for the black and silver. Jack." Dinner waa hurriedly eaten, and Jean was much grieved for Audrey's sake that Lord J*hn could not accompany her. After Jack had driven away, the two girls mounted up to Audrey's pretty bed room. "You must be my maid to-night, Jean," she said, aa they sat before the fire for a few moments. where is Murray?" "Oh, she was very rude and I was obliged to send her away," Audrey an swered, a shade falling on her face. "There have been a great many com plaints about her downstairs." "I hope you told Lord John, Audrey," she said. "No? My dearest, believe me, you are wrong—this perpetual attacking of you. Believe me, if it were once known that your husband had put his foot down, you would find Dinglewood House would learn how to behave Itself." "But, Jean, dear, what has Dingle wood House to do with Murray'a inso lence?" Audrey asked, quietly. "More than you imagine, Audrey." Audrey was silent for a moment. "Jean," she said, looking up with tears in her eyes, "why is it that they—they are so cruel? What have I ever done to Sheila Fraser or Lady Daleswater that they should hate me so?" • "You have offended Lady Daleswater by your beauty and aristocratic bearing; you have made an enemy of Sheila Fraser because you have robbed her of the man she meant to marry." "Jean!" Audrey turned pale. "Is this true?" "Ask any one about the place, and you will find it is; but why should it dis tress you? Remember the time it takes to make your complexion; and how will your ladyship have your hair dressed to night?" Audrey smiled at Jean's grave mimicry of Murray's voice. "Now let us go down, the carriage is at the door, and Mr. Fullerton will be tired of waiting." She followed the black and silver dom ino down the stairs, and then gave a great start as Willie sauntered out of the smoking room in his ordinary evening dress. "Why are you so late? Have you been sleeping?" Jean demanded severely. Willie colored and stammered out an excuse. "If you will forgive me, I have such a headache, I " "You want to stay at home? Certain ly. Jean, look well after him. Good night, darling; good-night, Mr. Fullerton ; you really do look alarmingly ill," and so, laughing, Audrey drove away. Jean stood gazing out after the car riage. Willie had never seen her look like that before, and it puszled him. "I >*7. Misa Thwait, you are not vexed I did not go, are you? I—l am » • Jean turned to him hurriedly. "Not vexed, Mr. Fullerton, but sorry. I should like you to hare been with her to-night. I hardly know why I aay this, but I have a presentiment that some thinf Is going to' happen, and that Au drey will find sorrow, not pleasure, at Sheila Fraser's masked ball." CHAPTER XXII. A huge ballroom had been 'erected on the lawn, with light, wooden walls, and one cone shaped roof; the floor was par quet, and as smooth aa ice; a smart mili tary band waa to provide music; aupper was served in another temporary room, and the drawing room, hall and donserva tory were turned into a lounge and prom enade. Audrey felt quite bewildered as ahe found herself In this throng of variously colored forms, all with the black lace or silk covering over their faces. She wished vaguely ahe had not come, then that she had Jack with her, or Willie Fullerton. Suddenly Audrey became aware that two people were talking close to her and that they were speaking of her. "They call her a beauty 1" one woman's voice said. Audrey could recognise neith er of the two. "A small, inaignificant thing like that, with her black hair and staring white face! Jack Olendnrwood did the worst day's work he will ever do when he married her! What can a low born and bred girl like that know about social dutiea?" "And yet they say ahe waa a great success In town." "They say—of course they say so. Well, aak Gladya Daleawater and you will hear the truth." "Ah, it was a sad mistake! Such a nice fellow, too; he should have married Sheila." "I can't make out why on earth he didn't 1 This charity girl business seems to me to have been very well arranged by Mrs. Fraser. Why, everybody knowa he haa always been In love with Sheila. They are together now. I just caught eight of them as we came along, hie tall gray domino beside her pale-blue one. I expect be tells her all hia troubles. Sheila is so fond of him. They ought to have been man and wife, and would have been, too, but for that paaty-faced, upstart creature!" Audrey's limbs seemed frozen, her heart a lump of Ice. What waa thia ahe had heard? What horrible nightmare had come over her! So this was what was said! "Sheila and Jack!" Again and again the phraae rang in her ears. "Sheila and Jack!" They had always loved; they loved now; and she—she, Audrey, the low-born, low-bred charity girl—ahe stood between them. A moan broke from her burning lips; she held one hand pressed close over the other so tightly as almost to tear the gloves she wore. Her brain was on fire; her head reeled. She sat so qnlet she might have been a figure of marble, not human flesh and blood. Not even In that one moment of actual peril on board the Mona had she felt aa she did now. She waa stranded before she had sailed beyond the sun tipped waves of youth and youth's sweet dreamings. Suddenly she awoke with a start, A volo. waa calling shrilly ia her ear, and a hand was placed on her shoul der. "Lady John—l know It is you by your domino—what are you doing all alone! Isn't It fun? Aren't you enjoying your self? I never was at anything so lovely In all my life. Don't you know me? I am Alice Fairfax. It is such fun being disguised like this. But you must not sit here all alone. Lord John is enjoy ing himself Immensely. I met him walk ing in the garden with Sheila juat now. You see, I know all the dominoes, aad can pick people out qnlte easily." "You—you are sure my husband is here, Mies Fairfax?" . "Yes. He haa been dancing with Sheila. They are out in the garden. De you want him ? Shall Igo and find him; or why not come with me, I know juat where they are." Audrey's simple, loving heart was ablaze with jealousy. So he had come, and had gone to Sheila first without look ing for her? What if those cruel tongues had spoken true, that already he was repenting his bargain, and turning again to Sheila, the girl he had always loved. "I think I will go with you. Miss Fair fax," she said, hurriedly. She would sec for herself. "Come this way, then," Alice Fairfax went out through the window. "Lift up your akirts. Lady John; lam afraid the paths are not too dry." "They went down here," Alice Fair fax said, as they passed onward to a more remote corner; "but I don't see them now. What a nuisance! I thought we should have been sure of catching them up. Ah, there is Mr. Devereux, I will ask him if he has seen them. You go straight on, Lady John, I will over take you." The girl darted away as ahe spoke, and Audrey wnndcred on alone, obeying her mechanically. "When I find Jack ho shall take me home," she said to herself, very slowly. She longed to be gone, to be away from this horrible ball, with its laughter and fierce gayety, and venomous tongues, hid den behind every musk. Deep in her agi tated thoughts, Audrey had hurried on unconsciously. She left the ball room behind her. She had followed along the path in which Miss Fairfax had set her first. She scarcely realized that she was alone, she had no desire for the girl's companionship. All at once she came to a standstill. What forms were those just before her, half hidden by a rustic garden house? Her eyes were blinded for an instant, then she saw 'quite clearly. That was Sheila Fraser's face; she had taken ofl her mask, and the far-away lights shone on It, and touched the red gold of bei hair with a shimmering glory; and that tall, strong figure in the gray domino I Ah, did she not know that only too well?" With sickening pain Audrey noted the attitude of those two; how Sheila's white hands were clinging to the man's strong ones; and then, as though to confirm the truth, to allow of no remaining donbt, Audrey saw the girl's head, with its wealth of ruddy gold hair, rest against the man's breast. She caught the mur mur of a man's voice, and then the an swer that Sheila gave, clear and shrill at a bell, "Oh, Jack! Jack! my darling!" and then, with a cry of despair, she turn ed and sped away—on, on, unheeding, unconscious, till suddenly her strength went and she stumbled against something or some one, and she knew no more. (To he fMtliniAl Went to tfes Right Plane. An American whose business fre quently takes him to London tells ol an amusing conversation between the driver and conductor of a public 'but In that city. The 'bui was fairly crowded, so ta« American climbed to the top, where shortly after taking his seat, be ob served a pert n in peculiar garb, with a red tnrban. There was a bnden sky overhead and i slow, drizzling rain, such weather as Is the rule rather than the exception In the British metropolis. As the conduc: >r came to the top the red-turbaned person, evidently an In dlan Parsee, got down. "Wot sort of a chap Is that?" asked the driver of the conductor. "I fancies that 'e's one of them fel lers that worships the sun." "Worships the sun, eh!" repeated the driver, with a shiver. "Then I suppose he comes over 'ere to 'ave a rest"— Success Magazine. DrswJns the Line. The Cook—Ol'm afther glvln' ye« no tice tbot Ol'm goln't' lave, ma'am. The Mistress —Wliy, what's the trou ble, Jane? Are you dissatisfied with your work or your wages? The Cook—No, ma'am, me work's asy an' me wages Is a pllnty, but Ol'll not sthand fer so many av thlm dudes a callln' on yer daughter. The Mistress—But they do not Inter fere with you, do they? The Cook —No, ma'am. But 01* m afraid payple will be afther tblnkln' some av thlm Is a-callin* on me, ma'am. Rare of It. Tourist—Wasn't there a great battle bought about here? Village Dame—Ab, I do mind It when I were a gell, I do. They was— Tourist —But. my good woman, that was nearly 000 years ago! Village Dame (unabashed) —Dear, dosr I How time do fly!— Punch. The New Damarer. "I heard that Deacon Thompson bad a narrow escape from being bit on ths head by a meteor." "Meteor! Nothing of the sort It was a piece of slag that setue fool aeronaut was using for ballast"— Cleveland Plain Dealer. Pilafsl lissotlsa. Chaplelgh—l was—aw—out late lawst night and the—aw—wesult was I had a bead on me this mawulng. doncber know. Miss Canstlque—Well, If I were you I'd stay out late every night Queen Margherlta of Italy has ths finest collection of pearls la the world. She la a great automobile enthusiast and eaa drive her own machine. THE DESERTED &ANDWICH. It Had tbe Fatal Gift of Beantr and It W«i Coveted by Blanr* "Don't leave your sandwich up there on tbe advertising boarda," said Tom my's mother; "the train will come along soon and you will forget It." But Tommy did not heed the warn ing, the train came and went away with Tommy and his mother and tbe others, bound for Coney Island, and tho sandwich remained, says tbe New York Sun. It was a remarkably neat package for a sandwich. Lying there on top of tbe advertising boarda It looked as If It had been done up by a Jeweler, so rectangular was It and so precisely were the ends of ths wrapper folded over. An elderly man stood near by read ing his newspaper. He had beard the talk about tbe sandwich and he noted that the event bad turned out as Tom my's mother had predicted. A young girl came up tbe stairs and walked along tbe platform. She saw the neat package and looked froan It toward the man. He drew a step near er to It glanced at It us If to assure himself that It was still there, and re sumed reading his paper. Several passengers alighted from the next train, and as tbey passed the sandwich most of them saw It and the man and tried to decide whether It be longed to him. One young fellow stroll ed back, after going as far as the door of the waiting room, and walked slowly up and down the platform. The elderly man stepped to the edge of the platform and looked along the track, as If to see whether the train was coming. Just as he turned to take bis former position he saw the young man lingering close to the sandwich. He cleared his throat with a loud "Ahem 1" and rested his arm on tbe ad vertising bonrds a few feet away from the package. The young man took the next train that came along. A large woman rigged out In clothes that she evidently thought w£re Just tbe thing hurried up the stairs and was rushing toward the train that had Just come In. Her eye caught the package, with its Jewelry store appearance, anil she did not enter the train. She looked up and down tbe track and glanced toward the sandwich, and from It toward the man. lie folded his paper, put his reading glasses In his pocket and again stepped to tbe edge of the platform and looked along tbe rails. The woman eyed him and tbe pack age alternately. The roar of a train was beard. As It slowed down ths man, all unmindful of the package, hur ried toward one of tho car gated The man stood on the car platform as the train moved out By leaning outward as the train rushed away he could watch the pack ago long enongh to sea the largo wom an grab it from the top of the sign boards, thrust It under her summer wrap and hurry down tho platform stairs faster than she came up. Quite naturally he smiled. A Wardrobe In • Hat. Grandfather Do Voe la an artist who appreciates line millinery. His young married daughter, however, was prac tising domestic economy, when a bat a beautiful' creation In real lace, ar rived for little Ellse from her devoted grandparent, whose eye had sur rendered to this bit of baby apparel the moment he saw It In a department ■tore. "That hat Is too extravagant for this family," remarked the young mother. "I'll take It back and see what I can da" A few days later the grandfather called to aee tbe baby In the now hat. "Do let me see how she looks In It" bo said. "And bow did you Ilka It?" "Very mnch, father, thank yon. They gave ma two bats, two drosses, a sweater, and thlrty-nlna cents la change for It" Polities In Doasentle Life. A story Is told of a Bradford County politicise (the ebarp and shifty kind) who waa urged by his wife to hoe the garden. He coulda't thlak of soy very good reason, so he went at It Boon be came la with a Oliver quarter he said he had found. He waahed It put It In hie pocket and went back. In a few minutes he showed up with another coin, thla time a half dollar. Ha eald there muat be a burled treasure la that garden. He unearthed a couple of dlmea and another quarter. Being very tired, he announced his Intention of taking a nap, and duly went to sleep. When he awoke his wife had a daager ona and steely glint In her aye, but tho gatdaa was sll hoed. It Is mistrusted that ahe had hoed while ho slept aad that she had failed to And any burled treasure. —Milton Standard. Bead-Bye, BneMd. Within tho last few years a revola tlen has beea accomplished at Oxford which ought really to affect tho mind iOf tho nation more than tho difference between Lord Curson and Lord Roee bery. A text-book has been discarded which was already venerable for Ita an tiquity at tbe beginning of the Chris tian era. Needless to say, wa are re ferrlag to Euclid's "Elements." For what other text-book ever bad such a run as that? It has been accepted ever [Since Its publication, which was In the reign of the first Ptolemy (B. C. 823- 285). No writer has ever become so Identified with a science as Euclid with geometry. Tbe nearest approaches are to be found In the relation of Aristotle to logic and of Adam Smith to politi cal economy.—London Spectator. It's very, very easy to «o foolish. Better watch out DogaJLrvh&rlhffrf irjlfsrijess ii 7 Piaas oflfarsea | r . , I j Thers ire decided contrasts In the treatment of "man's best friend" In European countries. On a recent visit to the continent, writes Samuel Walter In Pennsylavnla Grit, one of the llrst sights that greeted us after landing, was a big vegetable cart drawn by two hard working dogs without the slight est assistance from the men who walk ed beside It But we found before we had traveled through many European countries that this was only a small portion of the hard work that Is re quired of them. The pet dogs of the United States are considered wonder fully "cute" and smart when they can be trained to draw light carts until tired of the novelty. What would these children think of a dog that will pa tiently work all day long, drawing heavy loads In big carts over sto.iy roads obeying every word of their mas ters, and never otTerlng the slightest objection to the hardest kind of work? That Is the way the "working dogs" of Europe are trained. It seems pitiful to the tourist who Is unaccustomed to tlio sight, to watch the patient, untiring work of the faith ful animals. But the clogs do not seem to mind It. Tlicy do not know anything better. Their fathers and mothers be fore them spent their lives In hard work, and they submit to their lot from tiny puppyhood. when they trot beside their mothers, and become nccustonied to the chains and straps of their future bondage. These dogs which nre known as "working dogs," are of no particular breed, but they are always large and strong looking. They are trained to all kinds of work, and are found In many countries of Europe. In France and Belgium they nre usnally found In the greatest numbers on the streets, pulling the heavy "push carts," although they nre quite as frequently trained to per form certain household tasks, like churning, etc.. that can be worked by machinery with the dogs to furnish the power. In Holland the dogs are not only used to pull the carts and for other street work, but they are also found along the canals pulling the heavy canal boats; Just as the strong mules and horses do In tills country. Usually there are two big dogs attached to the rope of the ca nal boat, but I have seen a single dog on the tow path, tugging with all his strength to pull a big boat, with a won/' an and several children on the boat and the man walking beside the dog, keep ing him up to his hard work, but sel dom lending a hand. In this country the S. P. C. A.'s would get after such bard hearted masters. But I have seen other dogs that re ally seem to enjoy their work, and their eyes will sparkle and their talis wag with delight at a word of praise from their masters. The dogs that pnll the numerous carts through the streets of Belgium and Holland are "geared np" In many curious ways. Some of the carts have shafts like a wagon and are Intended for only one dog. When the load Is extra heavy, another single tree ar whtffletree Is attached at one side, with an extra dog hitched to this. I have seen a big push cart with sev eral heavy trunks upon It, drawn by a single dog. The master usually walks la front, and taking hold of the shafts guides the cart and holds It In posi tion, but seldom does any of the pull ing. This Is done by the big dog fasten ed underneath with the straps attach ed to the center of the cart. For the vegetable push carts, which are much the same as those of the United States, the dogs are also geared to the center of the cart, underneath, but back to tbelr master, who holds the bandies of ths cart and guides and pushes It as thty do here; except that they do very little pushing. Besides the hard work at carting, etc., these faithful creatures also make excellent watch dogs. The owners of the carta can leave their produce, etc., to go Into the houses, or wherever they please, while the growling dogs will drive sway any one who attempt! to approach the cart. TRANSPLANTING A HUGH TREB. Tew That Mar Bo TOO Years Old Moved s Mile and a Annrter. Perhaps tho moat ambitious attempt at transpiantatioa on record has Just beea made st Frankfort on the Main, Germany, and the results are being eagerly watched by botanists, says the New York Sun. Tho oldest yew tree In Germany, perhaps In tbe world, has been removed from tbe old Botanical garden, which the municipality la about to uss for some other purpose, to the saw one. Tbe distance traversed was about a mile and a quarter. The tree was moved not on account of any speclsl scientific value, but for sentimental reasons. Its age Is esti mated by some authorities at 700 yeara, and It seemed a sort of sacrilege to cut It down without an effort to save It. Preparations for tbe removal were begun three years ago under direction of expert botanists. The principal op eration was the clipping off of the ten drils of the loots to a radius of sbout six foot This was gradually done, a few at a time, so that the tree might accustom Itself to their loss. About tbe end of last May tbe colossal task of lifting the tree from Its bed and placing It on a buge wagon constructed for tbe purpose was begun. A sort of crate was built about the roots with the earth clinging to them as fast as they were laid bare, the tree being kept erect by guy ropes. When this was finished it was slowly pushed along skids to the wain, which was located In a trench, so that lt» floor was about on a level with the bot tom of the crate. The crate was about thirteen feet square and six feet deep. The tree 1» about sixty feet tall and some of the lower branches had to be pruned to* i:eep them from damaging the roofs of houses along the way. The weight of the tree and Its packing was estimated at 00,000 pounds, and to carry It th» truck weta made of enormous strength. It was decided that it would be im practicable to put the wagon on .is each one would have to carry a. weight of 25,000 pounds, or more than. German locomotive wheels are tested for. Besides It was figured that less damage would be done to the road by using rollers of American hickory. lu. places where sewers or other pipes' were underground heavy timber beams were arranged to take the weight of the rollers for fear the conduits would be crushed. The mechanical part of the trans plantation was carried out triumphant ly. The tree Is still propped up In its new location lest the wind should blow it over before it gets a solid hold on the earth. It is watched and watered from day to day. It is not certain yet whether it will accustom itself to its new home, but there are great hopes that it will. PLAIN TALKS WITH WOMEN. Life la to Many I'emona a Matter of* Sacrifice. Is life a matter of sacrifice, asks. Louise Satterthwaite In the Philadel phia Telegraph. Many very worthy people, having gone through life and endured their share of Its trials and misfortunes, at tune tbtflr minds to the sombre key, and go softly the rest of their days; subdued and depressed, they dare not lift their eyes above the earth level of their sorrows; patient. It la true, but undeniably mournful, they round out the years of their pilgrimage. Not that they are altogether to b» blamed for this frame of" mind. When, one has been beaten and buffeted and. used despitefnlly It is not to be won dered at that one comes to be very much afraid of what the next day shall bring forth. But bounding youth knows naught' . of this submission, and to make Its kiss the rod, so to speak, when to It no rod Is visible, far or near, la to breed up a spirit of Impatience, not to say revolt We often behold an elderly aunt or perhaps a patient and devoted father or mother trying to make var!oua> young hopefuls see that they are prison ers In a vale of teara, and that under all chastenlngs they must try to be quiet and bumble; but young Hopeful finds It all very much of a bore, long* to be away to kick free heels In a very good and Joyous world of green fields and still waters, and will have none of It To preach that life la a matter of eternal sacrifice to the exuberant one of youth and health la to ahake tlwlr faith In or doctrine aa well aa sanity. Religion, It la true, helps ua to bear sorrow; bat to apeak only of this side of It la to make of It a matter of gloom, which Is easily an Injustice to the sub ject and a thing which will do It more harm than good. Youth ahould hear rather of the doe trine of that love which showers Joy and happlneaa. Let the matter of sor row be left always In the background until the sad Inevitable time come* when It must needs I* Inevitably faced. Too sadly often la It true that life cornea to be a matter of aacrifice sooner or later; but when It comes It la time enough to think of It or speak of It or preach resignation to It Nat Ukt a Viaw. "Have you Interviewed that female criminal!" "1 have tried to." "Tried tor "Yes, but she refuses to talk." "Refuses to talk! Head your article 'Man la Disguise,' and make It three columns on the first page."—Houston Post Ammslt "Do you think they approved of my sermon?" ssked the newly appointed rector, hopeful that be had made a good Impression on hts parishioners. "Yes, I think so," replied his wife; "they were all nodding." 9aake. Marriage, I'm told. Is a lottery— To m< the saying's tame; I think, forsooth, more often It Is Just s bunks game. —Milwaukee Sentinel. Never get Into an argument over re ligion with anyone of whom you may some day want n favor. Extremes of U«it uiuke more liars than profit and gain.