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JTSjSgr WALTER. BLOOMFIELD mmz l Cnprriubt IN br Stmt Bnmn'i Sore. OHAWKB Vlt. Ernest, yon are my cnly confidant. Continued. ' A* yonr dlecretloa baa always ap- Annt Gertrude made no reply to this question; * shadow seemed to'pais across her face, and sho was, I thought; slightly annoyed by her hue- band's Motor. Miss Marsh gare uncle Bom a delightful smack on the face ■with her narrow little-hand, whereat iio sought to capture her a second lime; but she eluded his grasp and fled up the stairs, her tormontor pur suing her closely. The wondering foot man, unused to American society, be held this undignified reception with an aiilonlshed gaze, add then slowly pre ceded my aunt and me up the stairs. Matters went smoothly enough aftir this little Incident. There wero several tclegrama awaiting my uncle, 1 his attention and kept 1 quiet while my hunt Introduced to her sister, I found Miss Con- I Marsh a charming young lady twenty, very like her sister, more buoyant spirit; and'before been la the house an hour we conversing without restraint, my new acquaintance proving herself n mo«t congenial companion. CHAPTEE Tilt HOWS TOOK AUSTRALIA, Time passed very quickly with mo , In my uncle's house. Undo Sam him self I did not seo very often, and never for more than an hour at a time, lie was so mnoh engaged In the city; and when ho was at home ho seemed to llvo In a whirlwind of Interviews with gentlemen, varied only by an enormous correspondence, written and telegraphic. My uncle's devotion to bis affairs did not much affect me, at least not otherwise than favorably. Aunt Gertrude bad brought with her to- England Introductions to nearly all tho best people, tho adjective hero em ployed being Intended to convey the meaning which Londoifsocloty usually nttachos to It, and she passed a great part of each day calling upon, or re ceiving at her London home, a large circle of friends of high social rank. On such occasions her sister and I not Infrequently accompanied her, but non\etlmcs excused ourselves and ex- Plotted London on foot or went for a flrlvo In tho park Instead. Tho favorable Impression I had at first conceived of Miss Marsh deep ened every day. She was quite as beautiful and Intelligent as annt Ger trude, while the did not appear to be subject to thoao melancholy moods I ■ lind onco or twice observed In her sis- tor-a circumstance which at the tlmo X attributed to a happy union of youth andhealth. One of tho first results of my dally companionship w.lth this charming young lady was the opening of a train of serious thought as to my prospects in life. I reflected that I was now nearly of full age, that I had been trained for no trade or profession, and that my fortunes were centred In and bounded by ap Impoverished estate of £700 a year, between that and tv>*lt being tbe life of my father—a man a little more than a couple of decades oUer than t, and who my natural af fection Induced me to hope might live forever. The prospect dismayed me, yet X could not choose but consider It whenever I was alone. No definite Idea of marriage had ever occurred to me, but aomebow, to a way I cannot explain, there formed In my mind an opinion that It was derogatory to any man to marry a woman whom be was unable to keep In a etyle at least as good as that to which she had been accustomed’ In her maiden days, even though that woman were herself rich. ‘And from such thoughts as these my mind would wander to certain frag- - mentary sentences which had novraud again Inadvertently fallen from the lips of Min Marsh, and from which I had calculated that her Income was rather mom than fifteen times as large as my father's. Notwithstanding inch disquieting considerations, I was, I think, happier than I had over been before, and In consequence my days slipped away with a speed which seemed perfectly marvelous. It was Monday morning. I had been In London a week, and a third part of my vint was spent My lifelong habit of rising early bad not deserted me In London, and I was standing alone at one of the drawing-room window* ad miring the celerity of a postman who waa delivering letters at the houses opposite. Boon the postman crossed tho road and left a large budget of let ters at our house. I had received hut one letter since I left Bnffelk—a few line* from my father expressive of fils satisfaction at my safe arrival in town—and I thought It was likely them might be something for ipe by this morning’s post Not chooelng to wait until breakfast time to satisfy uy mind on this point I descended to the hall and discovered- on the table them a large letter addressed to me In my ■ handwriting, which I took up- i end mad as follows: Holdenhurst Hall, nun**,, April 10, IS-, f—I am' truly sorry to r slightly,* with your but jr« know, peered quite In advance of your years I have no hesitation In laying before you a matter which Is occasioning me very great anxiety, and In doing so X refrain from insisting upon the Impor tance, at least for the present, bf abso lute secrecy, for you must, X am sure, at Mice perceive the necessity for it, Tho enclosed letter from yonr grand father reached me tbe day before yes terday. Bead It carefully, and retain it in your possession nntll you see me. Of course, I am anxious to do any thing in my power to help your grand father In his trouble, but what is there I can do that Is of any use In tbe cir cumstances? This Is what I want yon to. consider, and yon can either write to me to return to Holdenhurst at once, If only for a day. I would come to London myself and talk the matter over with you, but, as you know, a large staff of workmen Is a present en gaged about the place, and one or other of us ought to be here. Poor lit tle Annie! My heart bleeds for her unfortunate father, and I fall alto gether to understand the case, for to me she seemed always a most affec tionate child. I would ask the advice of my brother how best to proceed were It not for his former affection for your mother, which disinclines me to talk with him of the Wolseyss-h# Is so mueh cleverer than I, and would be sure to tblnk at once of wbat waa best to be done. Don’t let this matter worry you overmuch, for'that more than anything would Increase the al ready great anxiety of your affection ate father. BOBEBT TBUMAN. Enclosed In th%thova was a letter which bore tbe postmark of Sydney, N. 8. W. I recognised my grand father's handwriting at a glance, and, taking the letter from Its envelope, read: Sydney, New South Wales. 4th March, 1S-. Dear Bobert—I hope you won't think hardly of me for neglecting to write to yon such a long while, but I am nigh to being out of my mind with trouble—a condition I have to the pres ent done my best to conceal from every one, especially you. My attain are now at such a pass that not only Is It no longer possible to conceal from you the particulars of the anxiety which is wearing my life away, but I am compelled to solicit your aid In re spect of It Ton must know that when, a,little more than four years ago, I placed my only surviving child, my dear little An nie, In the great drapery establishment of Milllken ft Burton, Oxford street, London, X acted In accordance with her wishes and my own best Judgment. Looking at the slenderness of my re sources, tho Increasing unprofitable ness of farming. In England, and the insecurity of a young person depend ent entirely upon such a life as mine, I decided that I should do well In so placing her, and she went to London accordingly. All went well for a year, and my poor girl made good progress In her business. I received a letter from her regularly every week, and on three or four occasions when I was In London I saw her for an hour or so, and was satisfied as to her posltloa. But one day a communication reached me from Messrs. Milllken ft Burton In forming me that my daughter had left their service without notice or. as signed . reason under circumstances which Induced them to entertain grave fears for her safety. The Intelligence dismayed me, and I at once prepared for a Journey to I-ondon that I might. It possible, recover my daughter, but ere I could begin my Journey I re ceived a letter from my child, heart breaking In Its expressions of affec tion for me, yet begging me to forget her as one utterly unworthy. As It that were possible; and she the only one living of all my children! In London I could learn Uttlo or nothing of my child beyond that (he had left her situation In the manner described, and that she appeared well provided with money, having given such email possessions as sho had (as well as other present which she pur chased) to some of the young women employed In the seme'establlshment You who know so well bow deeply I loved my child—you who are also the father of an only child—will real ise as perhaps no third person could how complete was my desolation. I re solved to cease my efforts to recover my child from the villain who hat be trayed her only when my life shall ceaae, and I accordingly left Holdcn- hurst at you know. 1 have traced her to Liverpool, hut too late to see her— to Brighton, to Leamington, Derby and other places In England, but was decoyed by a clever stratagem no leu artful. Into coming to Australia, though I am now of opinion that my daughter has never left her country. Some of the circumstances attendant on the pursuit In which I am engaged an so very extraordinary that I am quite baffled by them. Thongb I have bees unable by any meant in my pow er to discover where my daughter U, my address, wherever I go, Is known to her, and a letter from her, folly and correctly addressed, reaches me regu larly at Interval* et about alx week*. tier letters come from all parts of the world, but X am now satisfied that they are sent to the place* where they are posted merely to disguise the whereabouts of the writer, end thlnjp It Is probable she Is In England Id the neighborhood of London. Last year when I waa 111 In Wellington, Now Zealand, tho particulars of my Illness were known to her, and she Wrote to tee more frequently than usual, ttoljr once since aha went away did she fall to write to me for three months, and then came a long letter, couched In terms more than usually affectionate, informing me that she bad been 111,' but was now recovered; that there was nothing she desired more than to see me again, but that It she could not ask my forgiveness In the character of a wife she wonld not ask It In the character of a mother, X am convinced that my girl is well treated, ad .far aa Is possible under any anch arrangement as that to which ahelsaparty. I forgive her the step she has taken from my very heart, though I regret It ae keenly aa any father could. Were I to see her or write to her I should tell her this and use no word of reproach. And now for tbe aid I require from you. I have noticed that the letter* which reach me from Annie an en closed In envelopes embossed at tb* extreme edge of the opening, "Dicken son, Maker, Blchniond, Surrey.” That you may not fall to understand my meaning, I enclose one of the envel opes, From tbl* evidence I have formed the opinion that (he live* In Blchmond or thereabouts, and I want you, If yon will, to Institute « secret Inquiry—personally, If you can conve niently do so-to ascertain this posi tively, but you must be careful that she does not see you, or before I could return to England she would be gone. Should you discover her you might telegraph to me, but If you fail to do so a letter will serve, addressed Bex 2S4T, Postofflce, Sydney, N. S. W. I am anxious to avoid returning to Eng laud unless there is a good chance of achieving my object, and this tor sev oral reasons, of which economy Is not the least, for I have not found It easy to travel as I have done on an Income less than £200 a year—though of this I make no complaint. If only I might see and talk with my Annie once more I could die content. ' With every good wish for yourself and my grandson Ernest—who most be almost. If not quite, a man now and assnring you both that I have never ceased to think of you potwlth standing my long silence, I remain, al ways yours faithfully, WILLIAM WOL8BY- Tho letter fell from my hands and X eat for some minutes lost In thought. .That the playmate of my childhood, she who had alwaya been to me as. a sister rather than tbe relation she really was, sbbuld have fallen to low, filled me with sadness, while I could not but feel extreme pity tor my grandfntherlnhlsdesolatlon. Thoughts of tho happy Saturdays In summer when, with little Annie for my com panion, I bad wandered through the Suffolk grovei In search of nuts, or chased her among tho neglected grave stones of Holdenhurst churchyard, of her bright eyes, rosy cheeks and happy smile, crowded upon my mind. And I thought, too, of the stalwart old man who had taught me to ride and shoot, whom I had accompanied I know not how many times to Bury market In. bis village cart, picturing him now as white-haired and bowed with car*. I know not how long my reverie lasted, blit when I was recalled to myself by. a summons to breakfast I started up, full of energy, resolved to do whatever might lie In my-power to satisfy tbA pathetic appeal I had Just read. My uncle and aunt and Min Marsh wero already seated when I entered the breakfast room. Uiiclo Sam was stirring his coffee vigorously, and ap peared even more vivacious than usnal. “What!" be exclaimed, as I entered the door, “one week In London and your country habit* already loatl Why, I thought you were an early riser. Come, Ernest, what have you to say for yourself!” “Only that I have been up for nearly two hours.' 1 “Two hours!” echoed nnclt 8am In credulously ; “why, what have you been doing?” I replied that I had been reading m., letters. Tbe declaration mystified un cle Sam still more. He raid he had himself sorted all the letters which had arrived, and there appeared to be none for me. My explanation of tbl*. I thought; was not very pleasing to my uncle, for after remarking that what ever might be the nature of my corre spondence It did not seem very beuefl clal to me, for I looked very pale over It, he opened the Times Its full width and said no word more during break fast. "You certainly have lo*i your color this morning,” remarked aunt Ger trude; “are yon quite well. Ernest?” “Yes, I think so,” I replied, and when the next minute Miss Msrsh pro posed that I should go with her fer a long drive I had no further doubt of the matter. To be continual. Hopatoun’a Multifarious tlUu. The present Earl of Hopetouu baa hud forty-one years of. life, and twenty-eight of his present style and title. Ho has been a good deal In his time —a traveler, and a whip, and a lord in waiting, miti gated with a lord high, commlsalonei of tbe church; a paymaster general, a lord chamberlain of tbe household, and a president of naval architects; a brig adier general of archers, a captain of yeomanry, and a lieutenant colonel of submarine miners; a master of har riers and eke of beagles; a governor and a governor general. A man with many aides, truly, whe yet scarcely exhibit* any “sMs” at all Why the United States Fought Canada in 1812 By Capt. A. T, Mahan, U. S. N. HE War of 1813 wa* very unpopular In certain sections of tbb United State* tnd with certain parts of the community. . _ By these particular fault *** fodnd with the invasion or , 1 1“ 1 8 Canada. Yon have declared war, it was I I I clpal reasons. One, tbe general policy of the British Govern- l ? L B ment, formulated In the suceesslve Orders in CoqiMflMO th* " unjustifiable injury and violation of American commerce, tne other, the Impressment of seamen from American merchant - ships. What have Canada and the Canadians to do with either? If war yon must, carry on yonr war upon the ocean, the «*neor yonr avowed wrongs, and the seat of yonr advereary'e prosperity, and do not embroil those Innocent regions and people in the common ruin which, without adequate cause, yon sre bringing upon your own countrymen, and upon tne only nation that now upholds the freedom of mankind against that oppressor of our race, that incarnation of all despotism—Napoleon.” So, not wltnout some alloy of self-interest, the question presented itself to New England, and *0 New England presented It to the Government and the southern part or the Union! partly as * matter of honest conviction, partly aa an Incident or the factiousness Inherent in *11 political opposition, which makesin point wherever It can, and then magnifies the point to the uttermost possible, often until the polnt'ltself disappears under 1U Incrustations - Logically, there may a( first appear some reeson In these arguments, w* are bound to believe so, for we cannot entirely Impeach the candor of our ancestor*, who doubtless advanced them with some degree of conviction, tub answer, of course. Is, th*t when two nations go to war, all the eitireni of on* become Internationally the enemies of the other. This Is the accepted prin ciple of International law, the residuum of tbe concentrated wisdom of many generations of International legists. When war takes the place of peace It an nihilates all natural and conventional rights, all treaties and compacts, except .those that appertain to the state of war Itself.—From “The War of 1812, in Scribner's. ' AMERICANS IN PORTO RICO- / JZ? /2T Estimates Bun From Bl* Hundred «J Five Thousand. The question Is, how many Ameri cans are there in Porto Bicot The number ha* been variously estimated from (WO to 6000, but all estimates ar* mere guesses A cenan* wa* taken ,ln 1809 at tho dose of the year, and at that time, ac cording to the enumeration there wero 10G9 persons on the island who were bora te the United State*. ThI* wa* one year after the occupation, and con- dttlon* since then have changed so that the figure 1* scarcely of any as- slstanceutt all In estimating the number, now here;’ Of the total of 1068 on tbe.- teland born to th« tlnited States, «*? resided to the department of Baya- mon. which.la the district where the capital is located. *Of those to this district nearly all redded to San Iran, the capital being the residence of 831 of the 080. Of the 1008 born to the United State* and residing here, only 281 w.ere women. Of course, these figures do not in clude, the soldier* who were here, and ' excluding that element to the popula tion, we believe that most -observers will admit that the number of Amer icans on the island ha* increased since that date, and also that for a year or k> the number 111 been decreasing. Perhaps th* year 1903 was the year, of the largest number of American* on the Island. The population 1* •* restless and »o constantly changing It is difficult to get any accurate e»u- mate.—San Joan Newt. This is a Country of Ideals By Or. Leighton Park* E sre apt to take the idle, extravagant millionaire whose portrait gets into the newspapers so often as the avenge type of the W American rich nun. The truth is that he la the exception. We forget the thonsands of modest rich men who work, many of them, fourteen boars a day. and some of th* time every day for others. I have not yet come to contact with colossal wealth, but I know many rich men, very rich men, who are as unosten tatious, as hard-working, as unselfish, as devont and as humble as human nature is capable of being. Let us be fair. Tbe rich man shou)d not be belabored because be Is rich, nor the poor man petted because he la poor. Character la the test If it be true that we are piling wealth op In America fasts* than It has been piled up before to human history. If our forests, our mines, our farms and our factories are making unprecedented private fortunes possible, I am glad that the development belongs to this country. This 1s a country of Ideals. The teachers In the public schools, the professors In th* colleges, and all that multitude of men and women who are working, not for money bnt for ideals, will continue to stamp Idealism upon the minds and hearts of trar youth; they will convert wealth to the service of Ideals. When the power of wealth and the power of sound Ideals are to conflict, Idealism is sure to conquer, sure to make money Its servant. This nation waa founded on an ideal, and the moat powerful Influence* in Its life to-day ar* working toward noble Ideals. The moral and spiritual tone of the country la higher than ever to spite of th* accidents of wealth and poverty. ’ ...... All that the Government can do 1* to seo that men start to life equal to their opportunities. It cannot legislate brains, character or Industry Into men. Some will succeed and some will fall. It 1* the business of the church to help to equalise things—charity, advice, education—bnc above all, inspiration. To the rich and poor alike It teaches that there are other successes besides noncy successes. jz? Distinction of Birth in America and in England By Thomas Wentworth Hlgginson if-T-T I—lit — NE can hardly cast so much aa a glance at tbe United State* Senate to session, and then at tbe English.House of 1/wds to O aeaslon. without recognising the American elective body to have a far more Intellectual aspect than the other assemblage; or without further observing that nine-tenth* of th* visible Intellect to the British House Is to he seen to th# facta and forehead* of tbe Bench of Bishop*, or the so-called law Lords, whose origin may have been of the humblest. “Why noble Earls should be so ugly," wrote one English observer of some note to hi* day, “la a problem to nature:” bnt tbe question if not that of mere.beauty or ngliness; It 1* of visible mental power. Even so far aa a possible heredity goes, it mnat be recognised that a repub lican life I* what make* grandparent* moat truly Interesting. Free from the technical whims of on organised peerage, inch, for Instance, as primogeniture. One la left free to trace for good or for evil hi* Inheritance from the various lines of ancestry. Those line* may be drawn with especial interest from public service or social prominence, from pursuits, or education, or even wealth. Whittier’s Quaker Inheritance was ae important to him as Longfellow a parentage of lodges and tended proprietors was to him. I knew an American radical who, on going to England, paid some one at the Heralds' College to look up bis ancestry. Coming hack to London eoms months later, he found that the Inquirer had gone back no further, aa yet, than to reach one of hia namo who wa* hanged a» a rebel under the Tudors. "Just as I expected,” namo who waa hringed — said the American, to delight; “do not foUow It any further. I am perfectly, satisfied.”—Atlantic Monthly. * ' jzt JZ? JZ? li You Are Well Bred— By O. S. Marden OU will be kind. ^ Yon will not use slang. O V S Yon will toy to make other* happy, vlt you will not be thy or self-conscious. , You will never lndnlge to ill-natured gossip. You will never forget the respect dne to age. - You will not swagger or boast of your achievements. Yon will think of others before yon think of yourself. You will not measure your ctvlUty by people’s bank accounts. Yon will be scrnpnlons to yonr regard for the rights of others. You will not forget engagements, promises or obligations of any kind. In conversation yon wUl not be argumentlve or contradictory. Yon will never make fnn of the peculiarities or ldiosyncraclea of others. Yon will not bore people by constantly talking of yourself and yonr affairs. You wUl never under any circumstances cause another pain If yon can help It Yon will not think that “good Intention*’’ compensate for rude or gruff manners. , You will be aa agreeable to yonr social Inferiors a* to yonr equals and su periors. Yon will not sulk or feel neglected If others receive more attention than yon do. Yon will not have two seta of manners; one for “company” and one for home use. Yon will let a refined manner and superior Intelligence show that yon have traveled, instead of constantly talking of tbe different countries yon have visited. ' Yon will not remark, while a guest, that yon do not like the food which baa been served to you. Yon will not attract attention by althcr yonr lond talk «r laughter, or show your agottaa by trytog to absorb wnvsmticnc-SncMs*. WISE WORDS. Hope Is the mainspring of life.— Socrates. If thou wert worthy,- thou conldat have no mercy.—John Mason. “Error and vice and Injustice follow Inevitably a disregard of conscience.” If sfe cannot live so as to be happy, let ns at least live so as to deserve happiness.—Fichte. . “A man may become weary of dally toll, bnt It doe* not produce as much depression as doe* dally Idleness.” Take, thy self-denials gayly and cheerfully; and let the sunshine of the gladness fall on dark things and bright alike, like the sunshine of tbe Al- mighty.—James Freeman Clarke. A happy nature is sometimes a gift; bnt It Is also a grace, and can-there fore be cultivated and acquired; and It should be a definite aim with those who are training a child.—Lucy Sonia- by- . “The moat dangerous thing about the path of (In la that many believe It a short-cut to happiness. It never has led there and never will, but its lying fingerpost deceive* thonsands every year Just the same.” Degrees Infinite there must ala be, bnt the weakest among us.V gift, however seemingly trivial, 4_ la peculiar to him, and which, wow lly used, will be a tlft also to his race forever.—John Raskin. The great consecrations of life ar* apt to come suddenly, without warn ing. While we are patiently and faith, tolly keeping sheep to the wilderness, the messenger Is Journeying toward ns with a vial of sacred oil to make Ufi king*.—Saxe Holm. Kwl th. Fhrsiqu*. The Improved physique of the Jap- sues* to which you recently called at tention, writes a correspondent, is un doubtedly dne -o the more generous diet which they have enjoyed of re- ’ cent yean. In tbd past they were veg- etartans more from necessity than choice, and their staple food of rice and pickle*, though It made them tough and wiry, stunted their growth. This Is proved by comparing the'average Japanese with Japanese wrestlers. They come of the same stock, bnt they stem to be a different race, for their average height most be dose to six , feet, end (heir weight something pro digious. They are a curious, example of heredity, for some of them can trace their wreetling ancestry back for cen turies, and they have always been meat eaters.—London Chronicle. A GUM Hoes.. A house composed principally of glass bottles stands to tbe town of Tonopab, Nev., and was erected by a miner, who used the bottles on ac count of the scarcity of other mate- . rial. The bottles were placed in row* with the bottom ends outwird and ar* hdd to place by mud Instead of plas ter. The corners of the building ere composed of wooden beams, also cov ered with mud. The walls ire ebont a foot to thlcknenand are so well con structed that the' boose Is actually more comfortable to winter tbar many of the Other dwellings to Tonopab which ar* built of other material. It is twenty feet to length, sixteen fret to width and contains two rooms. It was built entirely by the owner. Th.Fm.1l Potato Crop. Here U something that will surprise yon: The potato crop of France 1* grown on 3,700,000 acre* of tend and the annual product Is about 460,000,000 hushels, as against 284,000,000 for the United States. Th* average yield la ‘ over 120 bushels to the acre, and the average price 1* twenty-five and one- half cents, a bushel. France exports nearly 8,060,000 bushels, and consume* 442,000,000, Ar about eleven pushete per capita.—New York Pres*. Feeding Mtregan ArtlBcisIlj. The chemist* of the Agricultursd De partment have shown that ablllfy to puiOKBi ffluuwu uiai EUiuy w v fix the nitrogen, which Is Infinitely -V abundant to the air, and apply It to the wornout fields of the world, will enable mankind to cultivate wbat la practically virgin soil forever. A plant at Niagara Falla is taking i" from the air by electrolysis, - yet in commercial quantity,