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godftd by a Spell CHAPTER XXX.—(Continued.) A few doors farther down the corri dor, In a chamber mom somber and gloomy than any we have visited, was Judith. She is lying back listlessly, in an easy chair, with her red rair loosely fulling around her pallid, worn face. The tears roll down her cheeks, at in tervals, in large, heavy drops. She Is weeping over the ashes of love, over wrecked hopes, and a lost life. Heavily over her broods the spirit of the night, boding of death. As the night advances, the clouds have it all their own way, veiling the sky with profound darkness; and the winds wax fiercer. Tlfe air is filled with the alternate shrieks, and sobs of terri fied nature. There is heavy rain, with which the monster sports, dashing it. and whirling it, and scattering it in gusts, aud eddies, and masses. Heavy footsteps upon the carriage drive; but the tempest absorbs every sound into itself. Over the gravel, which stands out lightly from the black ness that encompasses it. moves a large, dark, lumbering object. It is a man, bearing another, seemingly sense less, upon his back. Slowly, staggering and swaying at times under the weight and tho wind, he advances to the hall door. There lie lays down his burden, and seems to ponder for n moment. Then he walks cautiously round the house, looking up at all the windows. There Is a faint light in two, but seemingly emitted only by night tapers. All seem to be sleeping. He cautiously tries the windows upon the ground floor. All were securely fast ened. In a corner of the building there was a smaller window, like that of a pantry. With his diamond ring ho cut out one of the panes of glass, put his aim through tho cavity and with some difficulty succeeded in reaching the fast ening that secured the sash. He rained the window and crept through. He took a lantern and some matches from his pocket and struck u light. It was not a pantry he was in, but a small bedroom. I'ussiiig out at the door, lie found himself in the servants' offices. He took off his boots and crept noise lessly along the passage, until ho reached tlie corridor. He halted at Silas Curs ton's door and listened, with his ear to the keyhole. All seemed quiet. He ascended the stairs. As he reach ed the first corridor lie became sensible or a strong, pungent odor and a misti ness in the air, like smoke. He looked about him for some cause and crept fur ther along the corridor. Lteueath the door, and through the keyhole of one of the rooms, shone a red glow. Great heavens! had accident anticipat ed his intention? Was this fire? He turned the handle of the door —it was not locked. His doubts were solved in an Instant. A body of hot, blinding smoke rushed into his face, nearly over powering him. The room was in flames! j Hanging across the arm of a chair was the body of a man, cither dead or in sensible. I,ost and awe-stricken; Kod well stood helpless and transfixed, gaz iug upon the awful sight. At that moment Judith, hurrying out of her room, appeared upon tho scene. • •*»**»« Miles away, a carriage containing an old gentleman is speeding furiously along the Essex road, t'pon the box are two policemen. On through the pelting rain nnd the rushing wind, beneath the shadows of overhanging trees nnd nlong the open road, the soaked, bliuded driver, scarce ly able to see a yard before him, gallops the horses. "Look, look!" cries a policeman, sud denly pointing ahead. There is a glare rising up in the black sky—a wavering, red glare, that bright ens and fades, fades and brightens. The old gentleman within, who, spite of the storm, is continually putting his head out of the window to see what progress is being made, sees it, too. "Faster, faster, for heaven's sake;" he cries. "l)o you not see that lireV It must be the Manor House: there is no other house near." What is that dark object advancing so swiftly towards them? A horse, gal loping furiously, darts past like an ar row. and is lost in the darkness. "What is that'?" cries the old gentle man, looking out of the window agniu. Hut only the wind hears his voice. The glare in the sky grows stronger, nearer, lip rise showers of sparks, nnd up rolls the red smoke, and faster and faster speed the horses, until they seem running a race with the wind, mail h- If.g themselves against the tempest. Judith and Itodwell faro one another ■—hut. only for an instant. With n cry of Hgouy. she rushes towards her fath er. The fire surrounds him now, scroin lng liim from all human help. The flames end smoke drive her hack with their aci>rrhing breath. With wild fury, she turns upon Itodwell. Hocovered from his momentary panic, he is flying; but hi he reaches the head of the stairs, she Is upon him, with the grip of a tigress, and calling wildly for help. He struggles fiercely, twines his fin gers In her long hair, and with the other hand rains heavy blows upon her head and face: but still she holds on. never ceasing her wild cries for help. Other cries begin to mingle with htrs. and the sounds of battering at doors. The prisoners are aroused to a sense of their danger, as well as the servants be law. He will be detected, after all, and through this wild cat of a woman. Sud denly there is a dull thud —her voice is ■llenced —he has hurled her over the balusters. Down the stairs he springs. In the hall he meet* the two terrified servants In their night dresses, who scream and run back. Quick as lightning he shoots back the ponderous bolts of the door, and the next moment is flying along the graveled drive, through the iron gates and out Into the highway, where he has left hi* horse, tied to a tree. One bound and he Is In the saddle, barefooted and bareheaded. One look behind—a red glare is shining through the windows— and away he dashes through the dark •«ss. and the rain, and the howling wind. On. on. over the open common, whore the tempest rages in unresisted fuij then under the swaying, groaning lnw, plunging into jet deeper darkness. I town, down, down —tlie spc<sl redoubles, lie is rapidly descending. hut whither? Im penelrahlo h.v sight iin n Willi of iron W the black mill" before him. lie pulls the rein with all hi» strength; hut down, down. down. Ntill gallops the home with awful rapidity. Crash! a low, projeet ■ ing branch has caught liiiu arrows the forehead, and dashes liiiu from the ani mal's buck; there is a heavy plash, and then a rushing sound the horse is breasting? the water: another moment, ho is so rambling tip the opposite hank, riderless. Within the Manor House the flames are spreading with frightful rapidity. Judith lies in a motionless heap, and two hapless beings are locked within their rooms; upon the chamber above, the tire has already seized; upon the one below it is rapidly advancing. The tire is consuming one side of Clara's room—lt has fastened upon the stairs —no one can mount them. \N ho can save her now'/ Flames dart above the roof, and through the windows, and tip into the black sky rise volumes of lurid smoke, chasing away the darkness and illuminat ing every object around with a fearful radiance. What new figure is this come npon the scene? A man who seems to have arisen from the bowels of the earth. lie looks strange and bewildered. The women catch sight of him, and, shrieking with a new terror, fly away and cower upon the sodden earth, under Hie dripping branch of u tree. He sees an arm grasp lug at a window frame. He goes to him. "Unlock the door —the key is outside!" cries a frantic voice within. The stranger comprehends—dashes through the hall door, which stands wide open. The flames rolling down the stairs show him the key. He turns it. As he does so, he sees a senseless woman huddled at his feet. He does not recog nize her, but quick as lightning he raises lier in his arms and bears her safely out into the air, followed by >Silas. Only Just in time —the tlames are al ready licking the spot she laid upon. "Is it Clara?" cries Silas, frantically. Tlie.v turn over the body and disclose the death-like face of Judith. "Whore i» she—oh, heaven, where is she? She has perished in the flames!" exclaimed Silas. A wild, piercing cry of agony rises above the roar of the elements. They raise their eyes. Standing on the ex treme edge of the window sill, with out stretched arms, the flames darting around her, Is Clara. A frightful scream bursts from Silas' lips; but his companion grasps his hands, drags him under the window, aud stretching out both their arms, shouts to her to jump. Just in time —the flames cling to her dress as she falls. At that moment a carriage tears up the drive—two policemen spring from the box. and an old gentleman jumps out, and falls into the group. CHAPTER XXXI. A soft evening in June. The sky of a deep, cloudless blue, save towards the west, where the sun is sinking into a sea of crimson light. Not a breath of air is stirring—the trees are motionless; not the quiver of a leaf. There Is a buzz, of insect life in the uir, mingled with the music of the birds. Upon a lawn, over which is scattered numerous flower beds, gay with bright colored blossoms, stretch ing before a picturesque cottage covered with roses, sit three men. One is young, not more than twenty; the second is a stout, florid, benevolent looking man; the third is thin-visaged, sad-looking, with iron-grav hair. The three men were I, Silas Morant. Mr. Jonathan l!od well, and my father. M.v father was speaking—"What his ultimate intentions could have been, I am at a loss to un derstand. Probably to cast me. in my insensible stnte, into the flames." "Which, it seems, after all, he did not kindle," said Mr. Jonathan, shuddering at the remembrance. "That is the most wonderful circum stance of all. Chance, or ilestiny. or whatever you please to call it, had actu ally anticipated him, Porter must have overthrown his lamp in a state of stupor. Judith lived long enough to tell how she had seen the fire first in her father's room, and he lying across the chair, dead or insensible." "I could not help pitying the unfortu nate creature." said Mr. Jonathan, "in spite of the evil she had wrought. She at least deserved a better fate than to perish by the brutal violence of the man whom she loved so devotedly." "I have often thought." said my fath er. "what a divine mercy it was that only one of the telegrams fell into that wretched man's hands. It appears that the lad had put one In his pocket—the one addressed to you, Mr. Itodwell —and was holding the other In his hand, when he ran against his master, who snatched it from him nnd forbade him to leave the house. The lad said nothing about the other, but watched his opportunity to leave the premises, nnd deliver it at the office. The delay, however, was very near proving fatal to more than one of us." "That unhappy man," said Mr. Jona than, "had telegraphed to say that he would be with me that night. But 1 felt half inclined to start for Essex with out waiting for him, nnd chance the con dition of the house. But look! here are two old friends of yours coming this way, Silas." Such was the fact. Walking up the pathway towards the house were Martha Jennings and Josiah Cook. I hastened to meet the good, kind crea ture who had sheltered me. fed me and clothed me when I was houseless nnd destitute. She was dressed with un usual smartness —a white bonnet, a blue silk dress, nnd n bright-colored, or rath er many-colored, shawl. Josiah was also got up In an unusual style; bright green satin necktie, buff waistcoat and white hat. After a little conversation, the secret cam* out; the worthy pair had been mar- ABERDEEN IMtAI.lt, MONhAV. MAY 22 lWi ried that morning I "Married!" I exclaimed: "why I Imd not the Jenst Idea that mn-li n thin* »#», ever thought of!" "No mora had we, Muster Hits* « few weeks nun," biinwcinl Miiillih,' Hushing, "and, jroil Uiiow, you have hoi seen us niure Christmas, So. an \ *mi | Imd kindly sent nte mi Invitation to coin* down nnd see you, I thought ' would take (tie llhertv to bring Jiinliili lilollg with me, nuil make it n sort of iniuTlngt* trip." | "I mo vcrr much delighted t<» ace you both, nnd you nIoiII stay with iin for your honeymoon." I wild. slinking a hand of iirlt "lint von might iin well hnvo imtted ii« to your wedding.' Miirthn binitlwd nnd blushed: and then nit fill her nuil Mr .loiinthaii ottered their wnrui congrntiilntloiin to the happy bride Hint bridegroom. "And in-,, you still nt the Corinthian, JoalnhV" I inquired "No," lie answered; "Miirthn liiin |n-r --sutided llie to relinquish public life, Mid her father tins procured for inc nn np polutmeiit upon tiie railway ns u porter." A little time nftonvnrds, Miirthn came to me with a riuliiiiit coimteiiniire. "Only think," she said; "that dear, good Mr. Jonathan is going to Net us up in busi ness for your snke! And, Master Silas, what did I use to say when you made such a fuss about the little 1 could do for you—didn't 1 tell you you. would be rich some day, and what line tilings you would do for me?" "But I am not rich, my good Martha." I said, smiling, "and it is not i who have done this for you." "Oh, lint it's all the same, sir," she said, witli a very sly look. Presently my father. Martha, aiul Jo sinh went into the house. Hut Mr. Jonathan remained behind, and taking my arm, strolled with me across the lawn. "Silas, my lad," he snfid, iu a kind voice, "the sight of that 'happy couple* has set me thinking upon a subject I have long had ill my heart! Although I have never mentioned it, I know nil about you and Clara, Mrs. Wilson told me what she knew, and I have picked up the rest here and there. I have waited, however, until now. In the first plnce, I wished to know you better, to judge of your disposition; nnd, in the second place, although the ties that hound you to that unhappy woman were of the wenkest, yet, after the drendful circum stances thnt attended her death, we were compelled in decency to allow a certnin time to elapse before the subject of love and innrringe could be broached." "Ah, sir," I answered mournfully, "Clara has ceased to love me. She will never forgive the wicked weakness of my conduct in gaining her love yvhile another claimed me ns her husband." "It was very culpable," answered Mr. Jonathan, gravely; "and in any other person I could never have pardoned it; hut your life, my poor boy. has been so exceptional, thnt it would be hard to judge you by the rules of every day life." • •••••• "And joii forgive me., darling?" I whispered as I held Clara in my 11 mis. ! "I was never angry with you." she! answered, softly. "I only felt sad. and ' that 1 wished to die." | She was mine—mine at last! Nothing! could stand between us now save death! Oh, the bliss, the rapture of that mo- j ir.ent! I am lying at her feet, with my head resting against her, and m.v face upturn-1 ed towards hers, as I used to in the old 1 days. The cool air of the soft summer's night. laden with the perfume of the clus tering roses, steals through the open lat tice. There is no light save that of the moon, that streams through the win dow, chequering the floor with the shad ows of the overhanging leaves. One broad beam glances over my darling's head, making her golden hair glisten like threads of gold, and falls full upon the portrait of her mother that hangs behind her. She is translating the rhapsodies that Gil the souls of both into love's own language—music. Oh. those wild, pas sionate strains, how they thrill through my soul! They tell all the story of our love —soft. melancholy, mysterious— then broken by sobs and wails —swelling into horror and cries of agony—then melting into a soft, dreamy harmony too ecstatic for joy, too hopeful for sadness —and so they die away into the passion-j ate silence of love. (The end.> Older Tlinn the Chinese. Older even than China, the oldest existing nation, are the cliff dwellings of southwestern United States, homes of a race whose very name has per ished from the earth. Explorers, puz zling through the Mancos and Casa Verde canyons of Arizona and New Mexico, have found the houses of this strange people in the wildest and most inaccessible of the mountain slden. Did the cliff dwellers antedate the pyramids of Egypt? Were they of blood relation to the early Inhabitants of the land where the Nile is god"' Some students are prepared to answer both questions affirmatively and to give what is to them abundant proof. The pottery from their long-wrecked homes suggests Egypt, and the few inscriptions found have similar sug gestions. Mummies, bodies wrapped in cloth, feathers from the breast of the turkey have been dug from burial places among the cliffs, and, in bone and hair much unlike the Indian of to day, there is a hint of resemblance to a more oriental type. If the cliff dwellers left any descendants, how ever remote, they are doubtless the Moki and Zunl Indians, who. resem bling them in habits and appearance, are their closest kinsmen. Nothing to Regret. "All me," sighed the spinster as she gave a backward glance at her wasted life. "I have selfishly lived alone all these years and made no man happy!" "Oh, yes yon have," rejoined the bachelor with the Ingrown hair. "Don't you remember I proposed to you 20 years ago and yon turned me down?" linconacious Inault. Mrs. Homer —l»o have some more of the ice cream, Miss (Juestly: Miss ("juestly—Well, Just a little, as you insist; but only a mouthful, mind. Mrs. Homer—Jane, fill Miss Guest ly'g plate up again KOUMINU CALIFORNIA. Il„*» i'llntvia' Ink la I'ml to Build III* it wraltb. Tim »y Hleiiinllo ndvertliiliiff of * Mutc'a Icmlllivcit through II"* medium •if prluleiV Ink In mi Innovation lit wlinl Is n iown In Iho West as "de vcloptiiont work," Wl'ltOH Riifus P. Jennings In ttxo World To-Day. It In, however, but mi extension of llie work which Is enrried oil in every progressive West ern community by toeu 1 cliainlters of commerce. Every tiKO. I I'ARUKK. comer lo California Is Impressed with the untiring persistence with which Hie Ciillfornlnn proolHlms the glories of liln eomiiionwoiilth. This genernl sentiment has found Its expression in the organization of no less than 14H i ti.imliers of commerce and develop ment associations. These quasi-public bodies expend In tlieir regular routine work nil the way from $3,000 to 000 each per year. They, of course, must not be confused with civic im provement clubs, with societies for tlie discussion of public questions, or with municipal advancement associations. In addition to the funds raised by pop ular subscription, the purposes of pub lic advertising are legally approved by an enabling act of the State Legisla ture. The supervisors of the fifty seven counties of California are em powered to expend for advertising an amount which averages two cents per every $100 of the total county assess ment. In one county the fund so raised amounts to $11,000 a year. The legal appropriation Is fol* the purpose of publicity and immigration. All these development organizations work on the "community of interest" plan and have a central organization known as California Promotion Com mittee. Some of the associations ex ist in communities "00 miles apart. Those who wish to come to California are In a great measure guided by the advice of these bodies, and there Is not, a progressive association In Cali fornia to-day that would urge the set tler to come to Its particular locality, with a knowledge that the locality does not meet the demands of the new comer, and that he would do better elsewhere. "One for all and all for one" Is the motto. As a result of tills feature of ad vertising California during tbe last three years lias grown more rapidly in population, bank clearings and man ufactures than In the decade previous. During the colonist period, when one way tickets are sold at low rates to settlers, the population has increased at the rate of 1,000 a day. The new settlers brought to California by one road in 1004 exceeded the rush to the Rrltisli Northwest by 14,000. Through the work of the united organizations, great wheat ranches of thousands of acres in extent are being divided into small tracts for settlers, and, instead of wheat, fruit Is raised and diversi fied farming of all kinds Is engaged in. REAR ADMIRAL EVANS, COMMANDER OF THE NORTH ATLANTIC FLEET. Hoar Admiral ltobley I). Evans, who succeeds Admiral Barker (retired). In command of the North Atlantic fleet. Is one of the famous naval officers of the United States. He was born in Virginia in 184«5. was graduated from KEAH AllMlßAt. KVAMS. the naval academy In 1863. and at once assumed active service, partici pating In both attacks on Fort Fisher, and being severely wounded. During the period of strained relations with Chile In 1891 he commanded the York town at Valparaiso, and at that time became known as "Fighting ftob." In the Spanish war he commanded the lowa, which distinguished itself when f'ervera's fleet was destroyed at Kanti -11 go. That Via Different. Mrs. Tittle—What a beautiful world it must have been when there were only Adaiu and Eve In It! There was nobody to say nasty things about them. Mrs. Tattle —But, then, they had no body to talk about. Mrs. Tittle —Well, I guess, after all, the world has Improved since their time. —Boston Transcript. Mrs. 81z7.ey —I notice you're clean ing house. Mrs. Newcome, and I was nfratd you mtght be tempted to throw your rubbish out on the back lot. I Just wanted to say that we don't do that sort of thing here. Mrs. New come—l burned all our rubbish in the furnace this morning, Mrs. Blzzey, In cluding an old boot on "Ktiquette," which 1 might have saved for you.— Philadelphia I'ress. It is the tricky man who Is always talking of the pitfalls set for the un wary. WHERE FOUR TRAINS MEET, TIIE TIPTON (INI M STATION, ON THE LAKE EItIE & WESTERN H. R. Tipton, Intl.. enjoys the distinction of being tin 1 daily meeting place of twelve passenger trains under very unusual circumstances. Four trains on the Lake Erie and Western Railroad arrive from, and depart for, the four principal points of the compass, three times each day passing at this point. Three times a day during six days of the week the four steel chargers are seen drawn up at the station crossing, as shown In the accompanying illustration, which is reproduced from the Four-Track News. They exchange passengers, baggage, mail and express from the north, south, east and west, then pass each other and follow the rails in their several directions. Twice during daylight they stand there and snort at each other, and once In the dark they come together, each trying to olltdazzle the other with Its big, bright eye. PICTURESQUE ANTIQUITY. Ruin* of a Civilization KxistinK Before Columbna I.milled. With tlio entrance of New Mexico and Oklahoma (Indian Territory being Included In the latter) as States, there will be admitted many copper-colored voters. The l'ueblo Indians of New Mexico and Arliwiia are full-fledged citizens even now, under the terms of the treaty by which the country they occupy was acquired from Mexico. In Oklahoma are a number of tribes which, having recently accepted allot ments of land In severalty, are en dowed with the privilege of the fran chise; and, though the so-called "live civilized tribes" of the Indian Terri tory are as yet a nation separate and TYPICAL SEW MEXICAN TOWS. distinct from our own, they will like wise possess the right of ballot when, in lOOfi, the region they inhabit is opened to settlement. Some of these peoples, voters and non-voters, comprised within the area mentioned, are very curious and inter esting. For instance, there are the Havasupi, who live deeper down In the bowels of the earth than any other known human beings. Their dwelling place is Cataract Canyon, an offshoot of Grand Canyon, which is called the l'lace of the Ladders, because the town at the bottom can be reached only by such means, descending the vertical cliffs. These strange folk tan buckskin and make beautiful baskets; and they own wonderful deposits of copper ore and red earth suitable for the manufacture of paints, which are eagerly sought by the Moki for color ing their weird masks and other para phernalia for ceremonial dances. The Mokl are such marvelous runners that frequently they make a trip on foot to the canyon, a distance of 100 miles. In a single day. The Moki of Arizona and the /.uni of New Mexico are called I'ueblo In dians —the word "pueblo" meaning a town. They are builders of towns of n most peculiar pattern, which are OLDEST IIOI'SE IK AMERICA. constructed much after tbo manner of beehives, an entire city being prac tically under one roof, with a multi plicity of rooms arranged in suites. Entrance to Ihe apartments is Accom plished by ladders. These aborigines are sun-worshipers, and the orb of day Is their great gpd. Next in import ance In their cosmogony is the snake god. who controls the rain supply. In honor of various divinities are held elaborate dances, the most remarkable of which Is the famous "snake dance," in which some of the participants act ually carry Ave live rattlesnakes in their mouth#. Another odd custom of theirs obliges the young girls to wear their hnir done up at the sides of their beads in such a way as to imitate squash flowers, while the tresses of the old women are braided to repre sent the withered stalks of the squash vine. From an antiquarian standpoint this southwestern region is the most won derfully Interesting on the continent. Here where snakes hiss and rattle and the coyote howls was a civilization long before Columbus touched these shores and relics of it are still blis tered by the sun in their derest lone liness. Hundreds of ruins are to be found of a race of men who, scien tist! tell us, were 7 and 8 feet '.all and who lived in houses cut in the solid rock. Here the cliff dwellers had their seat of power and here are the links which bind the old Spanish in vaders with the civilization of to-day. As one walks about Santa Fe, or any of the other cities, scenes of the cen turies past greet his eye. Santa Fe 1# the site of an ancient pueblo, or town, ruins of which are still visible, and which present a singular contrast to the street cars, electric lights and oth er features of modern city life to be found in this second oldest city of the United States. One of the interesting spots is an old house of crumbling stone and mortar which Is reputed to be the oldest house in the United States. Not far from Santa Fe are villages which present all the aspects of the al>orlgines practically as they appeared to Cortes and Coronado. Of the adobe towns, or pueblos, the most noted In Taos, which lies In a l>eau tlful valley, watered by branches of the Itlo Grande. It has two great adobe buildings five stories high, sur rounded by prosperous ranches. The pueblos of New Mexico are nineteen in number and are very simi lar In appearance. Each accommo dates from KK) to 300 persons, the pueblo Indians being communistic in their manner of living. The houses are built one upon another. In a suc cession of terraces, sometimes five In number, the upper stories being reach ed by means of ladders. The walls are very thick and the Interior Is gain ed, not through doors, but by entrance ways cut in the roof. The Pueblo In dians have been pronounced by eth nologists to be the oldest race on the continent. COLD CAUBED BY MICROBE. Popular Notion that It la Canned by Kxpoaure a Failure. The common theory that all colds are the result of exposure of some sort is a great mistake. Exposure is not the direct cause of the disease. Scientists say that colds are caused by a hostile microbe, which gains a foothold when vitality Is lowered by exposure, and that if one is Inured to exposures he lias an effective remedy against the mi crobe of cold as well as many others. There are many evidences to prove this theory. There are many places wlien» it is Impossible to catch cold. l>eoau*e there is no cold to catch. Nansen and his men, during the three years they spent In the arctic regions, were Immune from cold, though they were constantly enduring exposure of every kind. They pass<>d day after day in clothes so saturated with per spiration that by day they froze Into a solid mass, so that they cut Into the llesli. And at night, lu their sleeping bags, the first hour was spent in thaw ing out. They returned to civilization none the worse in health, but soon contracted severe colds upon reaching there. Then there Is the remarkable in stance of St. Hilda, that lonely, rocky island which wns visited by Dr. John son when lie ami Bos well were making their fninous tour of the Hebrides. There are about 100 inhabitants on the island. The coasts are so precipitous that for eight month* of the year it is practically Inaccessible. Several vessels from the mainland call there during the summer. And, strange to •ay, whenever a ship reaches the inl and from the mainland every Inhabit ant. even to the Infants, Is seized with a cold. This fact liaa been known for more than 200 years and was of great Interest to Itr. Johnson, who was skej) tlcal concerning it. The question of this St. Hilda cold long puzzled men, who never dreamed that it was an infectious dlseaae and that without the possibility of Infec tion it is impossible to catch it no matter what the exposure may ' be. That is to say, It ia due to a micro organism, and without the presence of this micro-organism the disease can not l>e contracted. What It Signifies. "When a man writes poetry to a girl it's a pretty good sign that b* truly loves her. Isn't it?" "Not necessarily," answered Miss Cayenne. "It may be that he merely happened to think of a lot of words that rhyme with her name."—Wash ington Star. Those women who look "as if a wind could blow them away," can usually sweepnnddust all around their heavier •liters.