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—' l jjjroSEiS 4 THE % INjL o \ UOUST 30 (Being in the form | th«* nur* /A of a supposititious dialogue he- y tween Sally Spencer and my self. She 1b away off in Parle, ab sorbed in the vanities of this world, and I am a helpless fnvalld, confined w time to stf come had' You are a he tak«n I think it very un- .ix, to quote that nurse I have such a short l have a good notion to home and discharge her e to travel now and can >me where Richard* and A Bachelor’s Diary | Tennis and Golf by Night—An Autumn Fad The Roses By MAX. A TRAGEDY IN RUSSIAN LIFE rrv. Tompkins and I can nurse you, or k» to a cottage in the northernmost a man nurse for that matter " woods of thiB country, with much MAX: '*1 don’t want a man nurse. time to reflect on the probabilities of ' ■ * ... ... my reward, or punishment. In th J There would be none of that delight next. The Imaginary Sally I. sittln* ! r, ‘' ^Tr/’ f , wUh a n '« n nur “" in the little low rocker that nwn>v ■* nd n " hate one 1 are . m" emptily With the wind, hack nn , kettinK lonely In the l.,n K hour- of ,h. forth, on the porch be.lde me In that I n, * h ' r. al ' ,n * ,or ™V " ur *‘ 0 antallringlv suggestive way that ' »" d *'» «**'«« »" d »7> no1 ■ mptv rocker, have.) my forehead and hold mv hand and SALLY: ”1 ran atav only a short hav,n * " *?••»> big uglv. whlskerr,. Ime. Max. 1 had to wait a few min- I won't have It’ l am utes In the Bon Marche for a fitting ! i !"' , ** ,rI < people always hat ,hd thought I would make a mental " hn < lh *'- ««•"' nnd I want mv pre. .-l.lt with you while walling. Ho. ' th ' nk irr ' v ';ry self- are vou. mv dear’ You look like a '*»>. •« •'-grudge me the only mummy wUh all tho.e blanketa and I co-npensatlon Hc_kne.^affords a mao rugs around you, but not as sick as I had expected Perhaps that prettv nurse you have written so much about is prolonging your Illness with a motive.” MAX: “It is possible that the mo- ive is on my side.” It Stops. SALLY: “You don’t mean to sav, \Tax. that JtOS have btCdM such nn imbecile that you condemn yourself to cushions and calomel and airbags for the pleasure you get In having some silly girl wipe your face an1 hands and look solicitous when you sigh, and comb your hair and tell you what a fine-shaped head you have, and hold your hands every time you have an imaginary pain? Max, I am ashamed of you a sympathy that demands no chap eron.” (The rocker stopped swinging hack and forth The imaginary Sally i? looking away off into the woods, hut I 1 fancy she doesn’t see the royal color of scarlet and gold the trees have put on. Perhaps there are tears in her eyes, and the color** she sees seem rain-draggled, fihe turns, and wher she speaks again her voice is low and hn* a note of helplessness In it that distresses me.) SALLY: “It In all a tangle, mv life and Jack’s and yours. I have tried so hard to he good, Max. hut with a husband who strays after every new j petticoat, and whom T can’t love with- i nut compelling myself to love him. and with the man I do love throwing 1 himself a wav on a woman who can A ' rMj I i M4, nk MAX: “You are losing your tact, never care for him as I have cared | The right way to talk to a man when 1 for years -why. Max. I—I don’t know | he is sick is to call him a martyr nn1 what to do!” a hero Instead of an Imbecile.” (Tt Is my turn to look at the trees , SALLY “1 suppose that's the sort without seeing their beauty It weeim of soothing syrup that nurse hands t J to me now that all I raw was n little you? I see It is time I came home , narrow path that wound In and out from Paris and took you In charge. 1 among the gold-flecked shadows of How many, many times are you g>- the woods, and that lost Itself some- !ne to make It necessary for me to 1 where In their depths. It would he save you from other women?” MAX: “Save me for whom?” fine to take Sallv by the hand and lead her down that path and neve/ (Tho rocker, which hart rw a vert know its ending! I am Interrupted rapldlv when the Imaginary Bally wa-i In my musing* bv a sudden rnnve- scoldlng me. stopped short. There Is ment by Sally. She has risen, nnrt _ l. — . M ...,, .. o hop f h WAtit n hpr silence. Then It begins t© sway i has rorne to me. and has thrown her again but the Imaglnarv Sallv has arms around mv neck and Is kissing turned her head so that 1 can not «•* ! me In the manner o' which 1 have her face, and she changes the sub- often dreamed. Good men are good Ject when she begins talking.) I also In their dreams. But are there SALLY: "I suppose you know that j any ~ood men? Jack Is with me in Paris’ That means jj e Wonders. I have something more to do than to match rthborfs and laces. The widow 1 HALLY: "T won’t give you up I Is there, ton.” j kept the widow from marrying you. MAX: "Ton did not say for who.P [ an(1 j warn yo n t will keep the pretty y °SALLY '"”f a am m mn*t rordlal wit* j nurse from getting you If I have to go her. Ho cordial and so delighted when ! to the limit I want you for myself. I hear Jack Is with her that ho Is I have wanted you for years. Every growing suspicious He asked me this hour of the. day and night 1 have morning when dressing for breakfast thought only of you. though every- If 1 was growing tiro-t of him and one believed I was such a devoted wanted to get rbl of him." «-lfe. 1 deceived even -oti! I haven t MAX “Do you?" , been good in nm thoughts, hut no SALLY T hope vou will be satis- woman who doesn’t love her hu?b«nd fled with the winter clothes I bought | is good In her thoughts. It Is impos- for Manette. They cost more than Bible. Max! T don’t love my huwwnfl. ever before, hut the child la no longer and T do love you, and I know! * • A clock In Mrs. Allens dining room strikes, and even when a woman is making love to a man she can’t keep it The tennis court and golf links at night. No longer are the willfully unathletic to have the ex cuse that they cannot play outside games because of the pressure of business. Artificially lit lawn courts and a golf links have come into being, as these photographs hear witness. The courts and the “course” in question are at the Woodbury Country Club, at Woodbury, N. J., and were designed and installed hv Thomas J. Little, .Jr. The light is applied by the latest type of incandescent gas lamps, which, it is claimed, are better for the purpose than electric lights. There are four lawn tennis courts. The golf “course”—for putting only—is 80 feet long by 40 feet wide, and .has nine holes. n baby to he confined to the company of her nurse and governess, and must dress better You will laugh when I tell vou there Is a party dress ” MAX: “I don’t care what you bought I never care. Tt doesn’t In terest me and never has, and you know I never look at the bills. The nursQ nays ” RALLY: "And I don’t, care what a dressmaker waiting. Evidently II reminded mv dream visitor of the garment waiting a fitting In the Ron Marche, for before It had ceased striking the hour Pally was gone. Rut I wonder if she is that kind of a Rally In her thought?. Household Suggestions Poor Mrs. Craig M ISS BELINDA dropped with a tired sigh into a seat on her own porch and her brother Ben frowned at her with disapproval "Look here, young woman,” he be gan sternly, “how long are you going to keep this thing up? First thing you know I’ll have to send for a trained nurse for you or at least park you off to a reat cure at 9afe distance from the Craigs ’’ "Nonsense. Ren, I’m all right. You greatly exaggerate what I do for poor Mrs. Craig ” "Well, I don't exaggerate when I tell you that you have passed forty-two hours with poor Mrs. Craig in the last week. I have kept.time on you.” "How ridiculous to do that! I’d no idea, though, that I’d been at the farm so much. Still, it would he simply brutal not to do what I can for Mrs. Craig when she is QJ. and there’s no one but the boys to wait on her or do any thing about the house. The hoys are very busy in the fields Just now, too.” "Why In the name of all that’s sensi ble doesn't she keep a girl?” "1 think she would if she could find one. Girls are scarce In this neighbor hood ’’ "What’s the matter with that little Molly Johnson you sometimes have to help Norah? Why couldn’t she work for Mrs. Craig?" "Well,” Miss Belinda laughed, "the matter with Molly Is that her eyes are much too blue and her cheeks quite too pink. Do you Imagine Mrs. Craig la keen on offering that particnlar kind of 1 temptation to her bachelor sons?" Not to Rest. "It’s an outrage that she should de pend upon her neighbors to take care of her and run her house I hope you’ll have sense enough to stay at home this afternoon and rest " "I shall stay at home." "And res*?*’ "Well, part of the time, perhaps; but now I must make a cake." "Why not let Norah make the cake? If she can’t we can easily go without It.” "Oh. this cake isn’t for us. To-mor row is Jimmie Craig’s birthday ami poor Mrs. Craig is terribly disappointed be cause she isn’t able to make angel s food for him It seems that that great six- footer, who looks as if he had never tasted anything lees substantial than nnrk and beans, quite dote9 on angel's rood ” "You little woolly lamb! So you promised to make him one. Why don’t you crochet him a necktie, too?" 'In order to reinstate myself In your good opinion let me tell you that I have persuaded Mrs Craig to get a woman with a child, who will he glad to have a country home. I know there are plenty of them and I’ve written to Fan nie Drayton to find one through her ^settlement work.” "That's a good idea. Re sure to order one with dull eyes and sallow cheeks. By the way. here’s a letter from Fannie that came while you were gone." Miss Belinda’s face brightened as she read the letter. "Fannie says she knows a good woman with a dear little girl that she would love to bring up In the country. Oh. Ben, Isn’t It splendid? Fannie had been hunting for Just such a chance for the widow and what a good thing it will be to poor Mrs. Craig! I must write Fannie to send her at once." "No, I’ll call her up on the long-dis tance and ask her to send them out to morrow." I.Ate the next afternoon Miss Belinda and her brother drove to the station ahd returned with a capable hut sad- loeklng mother and child. After giving them a comfortable supper Miss Be linda conveyed them to the Craig farm, where, through her offices, they were expected. Her Story. ■‘lit will be a relief to know that poor Mrs. Craig has some one to look after her and the housekeeping,” said Miss Belinda that night. But when the next day came the woman and the child came also, with the tidings that Mrs. Craig had sent them away. "There mult he some misunderstand ing," sighed Miss Belinda. "You rest here and I’ll run over to the farm and have a talk with Mrs. Craig ” When she returned, looking discour aged, her brother said. "Well, how about it?" "Ben. Just think of it! That woman was actually willing to work for the board of herself and the little girl, hut Mrs. Craig was vexed because she washed out the child’s one little frock this morning She said she couldn’t af ford to furnish laundry soap for the child’s washing! When I remonstrated against her losing good help for such a small matter, she said, very blandly, ‘With such a good neighbor as you. Miss Belinda 1 don’t see that I really need any hired help? ” "Well. I’ll be Jiggered! But fy?w about our oTerhaaty Importation” that's to be done with the woman and child?” "They’re to stay here and build up on country air and good food for a while, and then I’ll try to find them a perma nent home. You don't mind their staying here, do you, Ben?” "Oh, no. But I must make one re quest, Belinda, and that is that you won’t talk to me any more about your poor Mrs. Craig." Handsome Is "Why. haven't I been good to you? Look at the handsome engagement .ring I gave you.” "Yes. I took it down to a pawnshop the other day to see what I could get on it, and he asked mo what 1 wanted for it—inarblea or skipping ropo.” Leather chair? often become greasy looking where the arms and head rest on the leather. To remove these marks try linseed oil. Boil half a pint of oil and let It stand until nearly cold, then pour in half a pint of vinegar. Stir till it is well mixed, and bottle, when It Is ready for use. Put a few drops on a flannel and polish with soft duster. This will thoroughly renovate all leather. In cases of emergency a kettle or saucepan can he heated over a candle by the following means: Stand two chair? (with rungs) fairly near to gether. Place a lighted candle on the floor between the two. Then lay a pair of flre-tongs ac.ros? the rung? of the two chairs and on the tongs place a small kettle or saucepan imme diately over the candle. The water does not take long to boll. Flatirons become rusty if left in a damp place or it put away flat when warm. Rub them first with beeswax, then with dry, coarse salt, using a short, hard brush. When heating irons it Is wise to remove them from a lighted gas-ring after a few min utes have elapsed, and to wipe away the tiny specks of moisture which will he found to have formed. To remove smoke-mark? from ceil ings, mix a thick paste of starch and water, and with a clean flannel spread it over the mark. Allow it to get thoroughly dry, then brush off with a soft brush and the marks will have disappeared. Before using table oilcloth, paste at each corner on the wrong side a square of cotton. This prevents the corners from wearing out as soon as they otherwise would. To keep bread board? a beautiful color, rub them well with half a lemon: then wash them in cold water, and stand them in the wind or in the sun to dry. During hot weather small bags of muslin filled with charcoal should be hung in the pantry on either side of the meat. This will keep it fresh in the hottest weather. When cooking liver and bacon get a sour apple, slice it very finely, and add it to the gravy. This will im part a delicious* flavor, which i? a great improvement. To give potatoes a flavor add half a teaspoonful of sugar, as well as salt, when boiling. This does not make them too sweet, but gives a delicious flavor. Tactful. Kind words may he more than coronets, and simple faith may beat Norman blood to a frazzle; but. after all, tact Is the possession most dear and most useful to the human race. Mr. Daniels thought so, too. When he left the house he had left Mrs Daniels with a lady friend, whose abilities as a scandal-monger and mischief-maker are pre-eminent. When he returned he Just poked his head Into the drawing room. "That old cat gone, I suppose”” he said, with a sigh of relief. For Just an instant there was a dreadful silence, for as he uttered the last word he encountered the stony glare of the lady who had been in his mind. Then Mrs. Daniel? spoke quite calmly. "The old cat?” she said. "Oh, yes, dear. I sent it to the Cats’ Home in a basket first thing this morning!” His Love A CHARMING SHORT STORY Do You Know- I N the wild and inaccessible canyon of the Tlmok River, which forms the boundary line between Servia and Bulgaria, lies a little mountain hamlet, Vardak. In days of old, while th« Christian Serbs were fighting their Turkish op pressors. Vardak was the refuge of hundreds from Turkish violence. l-Yutn thl? village they renewed their fight with new vigor. Nowadays Var dak i? a peaceful village seldom vis ited by strangers. The inhabitants know little or nothing of the out side world and many generation? died without knowing anything of the great national movement which swept the country. Even when the great war of liberation set all Serbian hearts aflame the storm of enthusi asm hardly touched Vardak. Only old Ljuba and three other men. armed to the teeth, defended into the valley to fight the arch enemy, but none of them ever returned and after a few years they were completely forgotten. It was taken for granted that they had lost their live? fighting the Turks, for what Serbian peasant would not have hurried pack to his house and hearth if he went through the war unharmed? In this quiet, remote village, Mladen grew up. When his father. Ljuba, descended into the valley to fight the Turks he wa? still a baby, and now when he had grown Into a tal! and powerful young man, and earned his living herding the cat tle of the rich peasant. Arsen, did nor remember a single feature of his father’?. But when he looked at the old rusty arms on the walls in the miserable hut he had inherited from hls mother, or when he listened to old blind Jezdlmlr’s tales of the feats of hi? ancestors, the cruelties of the enemy and the desperate fights he naw before hls inner eye an image of fatner. ns a tall, broad-shouldered warrior, thirsting for adventure and rovenge, and often while he was herd ing hls cattle near the river he dreamed of himself fighting the Turks and returning home as a hero cov ered with glory He saw Arsen run ning to meet him. embracing him and crying: "You are a brave fellow, Mladen, and as a reward, I am happy to accept you a? my daughter Milit- za’s husband.” Mladen loved Milltza. though she did not know it. How should Milttza. the richest girl in the village, about whom all the young men were fight ing , have suspected that her father’s humblest hireling dared raise his eyes to her? His Secret. Mladen kept the secret of his love to himself, and did not even mention it to old Jezdimlr. Then the wonderful thing happened. One wintry day, when a terrible bliz zard wa? raging in the mountains and Vardak was entirely cut off from the world, a stranger arrived In the vil lage. He went straight to the rich Aroen’s farm and said that he was Sergeant Janko Vilutln, and that the King of Belgrade had declared war against Bulgaria and now called all men to the colors. Even* man capable of hearing arms must meet at Zijecar within 24 hours. This wa? the message of the King, and when Mladen heard it his hqart began beating wildly and he began to think of all the stories Jezdimir had told him of wild, cruel-looking men swinging their bloody scimitars and singing their songs of war; but when he heard that he was to fight the Bulgarian?, not the Turks, he shook his head. This seemed so un natural. The Bulgarians living on the other side of the Timok were good Christians, praying to the same sainis a? the Rerbs. But, of course, the mighty King in Belgrade must know what he i? doing, and it is not for an ignorant peas ant to trouble his brain trying to understand his order?. The King had issued an order, and all the men of Vardak obeyed and hurried to get ready for their departure. He is Picked. There were twenty young men al- together, and among these was Mladen. They were to leave for Zizecar at dawn,the next day. Many a mother clasped her young son In her arms and many a young girl cried until her eye? were red at the thought that she might never see her lover again, but nobody wept for Mladen, for he had neither parents nor sweet heart. But the rich Arsen supplied him well with provisions and Milltza shoo^ his hand cordially and present ed him with a holy ikon of the Vir gin. When she felt how his hand trembled in hers she asked in sur prise: "Why do you tremble so. M laden ?” But Mladen did not answer. He let go her hand, and silently and with bowed head he joined hi? comrades. • • • Two brother nations that only a few years previous had been sighing under the same yoke were now at war, a senseless' war of foolish am bition. Bloody battles were fought at Silvetzn, Zarinrod and Pirot. The Bulgarians were victorious and the Rerbs fled demoralized and in wild disorder, an army of ragged and ex hausted creatures, thousands of whom found their deaths in the blizzard in the mountains near Pirot. When night fell, the fate of the Serb? was sealed. Among the thousand? who re mained on the battlefield was Mladen. A shell had torn nwav his right leg and the wheel of an ammunition cart had crushed his chest. But Mladen did not want to die. He felt no pain, but was warm and comfortable now that the blizzard had stopped and the moon was making night almost as r'ght as day. He raised his head and across his pale lips came the sound of a name, and she whose name he called bent down over him with a tender smile, and asked: "Why do you tremble, Mladen?” And he told her why, for now he felt as brave as never before: “I love you, Milltza.'* And she did not grow angry at all. She smiled and looked at him kindly with her big blue eyes and he felt her warm breath on his cheek. He could not control himself any longer. He threw hls arms passionately aroun< her neck. And while hls hot, fever ish hands caught hold of the frozen grass. Mladen fell back into the snow and with a happy smile on hi? lipe ho gave up his young soul. A novel use of compressed air is made by railway companies In the Southern States of America. When the loads of cotton are being taken to the coast there Is always danger of their becoming damaged through sparks from the locomotives. To pre vent this, the locomotive boilers are filled with compressed air. A train load of several thousand bales of cot ton can be hauled by these locomo tives at a rate of twelve miles an hour, although no fire is used in working them. Following the proposal for a tax on bachelors in France, the society “La Race Francaise” suggests that every male citizen who either has not three children alive or who has not reared three children to the age of 21 should he taxed $5.50 a year for each child below the number of three This would apply to both bachelor! and married men. Such a tax, it is estimated, would produce about $100,- 000,000 a year. Doubtless the most unique spot in Europe is the little village of Alten- berg, on whose border three coun tries meet. It i? ruled by no mon arch, has no soldiers, no police, and no taxes. Its inhabitants speak a curious jargon of French and Ger man combined, and spend their days In cultivating the land or working in the valuable calamine mine of which the village boast?. Clocks are now made to run five years with once winding up. In 1881 the Belgian Government placed one of these in a railway station and sealed it. It has kept capital time, having been six times wound—in 1886, 1891. 1&96, 1901, 1905 and 1911: and there is a clock in the Church of St. Quentin, in Mayence, which has only stopped once during a period of 500 years. “Aladdin’s lamp, in good working order, price 500.000 pounds.” i? the inscription on a card attached to a curious-looking lamp exposed for sale in the Hhop-window of a Kingston antique dealer. A pen-nib i? a little thing, yet there is more ?teel used In the manufac ture of nib? than in all the sword and gun factories in the world. A ton of steel produces alrcrat 1,500,000 pens. Th£ cost of the navie? of the world last year aggregated $725,000,000. Figures compiled by the Depart ment of Inland Revenue at Ottawa show that the people of Canada la«t year smoked 975,325,501 cigarettes, an increase of nearly 200,000,000 over the figures for 1911. EXCURSION TO BIR MINGHAM. $2.50 round trip, Septem ber 22. Special train leaves j Old Depot 8:30 a. m. SEA-! BOARD. rpHE season of the rose seller? Is now \ at its highest in the topsy-turvy A ancient City of Moscow, which, in spite of its sjucco German buildings ; and miniature skyscrapers, still seems to recall the East at every Vomer of its tortuous streets. Even the rose-sellers here are differ- 1 mt from the pale-faced, tired-looking men and women who ply the same trade in the great cities of Western Europe. ! Every morning when the dawn is Just beginning to break, and the sun, like a great ball of fire, is forcing Its wav up into the silver-gray sky, they take their stand a ragged, barefooted band of smiling urchins—on the new bridge be side the Brest station. This bridge, is one of the finest struc tures in Moscow. At one end is the Arc DeTriomphe. guarding the way to the Tverskaia, the Piccadilly of Moscow At the other is the boulevard which twines its way through the great beeches and sycamores of the Petrovsky Park, in which are situated Yar, Streil- na, Mauretania and the other boisterous pleasure gardens of Moscow nightlife. The bridge is thus the boundary be tween the prosaic, businesslike Teu tonic Moscow of the daytime and the extravagantly riotous, nocturnal Moscow of the Slav. On its friendly parapet the little rose-seller? take their seats, dan gling their half-naked legs against the stone, singing snatches of Russian folk songs, and waiting patiently for the re turn of the belated pleasure-seekers to their daily task. Suddenly a "lekhatch”—a swift vic toria with large rubber tires—or a motor car, is heard afar off in the silent still ress of the early morning. Some twelve or thirteen ragamuffins spring from their places and race to the middle of the street. There is a quiet patter of naked feet on the rough. Jagged cob bles. For a moment the little hand keeps pace with the passing vehicle. The sellers jostle and push each other in their eagerness, and with little re gard" for their own safety snatch "a per ilous foothold on the splashboard. And all the while a fire of pleading requests is kept up incessantly. "Buy a rose, master!" "Fresh roses, my lady? A double for six.” "See, master. I am hungry. I have eaten nothing since yesterday morning. Buy a rose radee Christa.” He Buys. And if the fat, pleasure-sated man in the carriage shows little sign of yield ing to these entreaties, the tired painted woman by hls side is more sympathetic and compels her companion to open his purse. Besides she wants the flowers. They remind her of long-forgotten days and of the many things that might have been. In this way does the little army exact l its toll from the passing stream of car- j riages and cars Life is hard, and the bent, worn-out mother, who, as a "tender” In the cot ton * mills, keeps the family alive on the princely wage of thirteen rubles a month, has need of all the copecks her fourteen-year-old son can collect. Rivalry Is, therefore, keen in this children’s trade, but on the whole there Is no bullying, no Jealousy, no 111 feel ing. Occasionally, however, in the race for first place, “desire outruns perform ance,” an<i the movement of the thin, bony legs is unable to keep pace with the eagerness of the mind. Motor cars are comparatively rare in Moscow, and the rose sellers have not yet learned to Judge their deceptive pace with the same nicety as their 1 London prototypes. And so sometimes It happens that the bridge is a silent witness of a little tragedy. Suddenly there Is a startled shout of warning from the driver. The car takes a wide swerve to the side. A piercing shriek rings out In the cold morning air. A sickening thud follows. The car stops, while a policeman comes forward with his notebook. The little fellow is taken Into the car and driven off to the nearest police station. In a few minutes the street resumes Its normal appearance, and the ragged little sellers return to their "beat" on the bridge. They are sorry, of course, as far as It lies In their power to he sorry, but the battle for bread knows no respite and the world of pleasure must still be fed. **•••• The Other Side. In a little by-street across the river, in the dirtiest part of the town, a frail, shriveled-up little woman Is busily en gaged In cleaning out her room. She swears gently to herself every few min utes. The samovar has been ready for over an hour and her brat of a boy has not yet come home. Most likely he has gone off with the other lads to play pitch and toss. She is still meditating on the punishment she will certainly mete out to him, when a knock at the door disturbs her, and the great, gruff voice of the door keeper rings out: "Maria Vasilyevna! Maria Vasilyevna! You are wanted at the police station at once." A policeman pushes his way into the room. Wonderingly she wraps a shawl about her head and totters out into the street. The neighbors gaze ai ner lastly, curiously, and exchange guesses as to the exact nature of the crime Maria Vasilyevna has committed. At the ouchastok she is ushered into the superintendent’s office. He has a harsh voice, but he looks at her not unkindly. "See, little mother." he says stam meringly, while he shuffles on the floor with his heavy topboots, "there has been an accktent.” She bows her head resignedly. "It is my Pavel, is it not?” The officer nods assent. He takes her into another room and shows her the poor, emaciated body with the white, pinched face and the wide open, startled eyes. The little hand Is clenched tight ly over a hunch of faded roses, as though the instinct of self-preservation so keenly developed amongst the very poor had not left him even in death. "Is that your son?” he asks. Identified. The answering "Yes” is swallowed up in the muttering of a prayer. As gently as he can the officer leads her hack Into his office. The law must be carried out, and the body has to be identified. He shows her where to make her mark In his book, for she can not write her name. For a moment she stands with clasped hands, her eyes fixed on the room which she has just left. "Maye I take the roses with me?" 8he asks pleadingly. The reply is in the affirmative. She goes back to the bare, cold mor tuary. A bunch of faded roses is lying beside the corpse. Greedily, cunningly, as though afratd that the officer might change hls mind, and without a thought for the body beside her. she gathers up the precious bundle. She counts them over once, twice, lest there by any mis take, then, with a quiet good-bye, she takes her leave. Once in her own home she puts the flowers in water, but the faded petals refuse to resume their appearance of freshness. "The devil takes them,” she mutters disgustedly. "They are not worth ten copeck—not even on the Tverskaia." She takes a needle and pricks the long green stems in a last effort to re vive them, hut the flowers are as dead as the child whom she has just left. Yet, though with a sense of grief Comes with the falling leaf. And memory makes the summer doubly pleasant. In all my autumn dreams A future summer gleams. Passing the fairest glories of the present. —George Arnold. Let the eweet heavens endure. Nor close and darken above me Before I am quite, quite sure j/ That there is one to love me; / Then let come what may To a life that has been so sad, I shall have rriy day. —From "Maud.** When I sail to the Fortunate Island* Over the violet sea. May one friend, my heart’s friend. Be there, a-sall with me. On the breast of the deep, sweet waters. In the arms of the white spray, Sailing, sailing, sailing, Till we come to Haven Bay. In the peace of the Fortunate Islands, By wood, and hill and shore, May one friend, my soul’s friend, Abide with me evermore. —Louis MoQuilland. The world wants men, large-hearted, manly men; Men who shall Join the chorus and prolong The psalm of labor and the psalm of l°ve. —Selected. —^LILIAN LATTFERTY. Nothing In It. "I regard conversation as a girt/* remarked the etmlUAiK woman. “It usually is,” replied Miss Cay enne. “If people had to pay for It there would be much less of it.” INDIGESTION? 6top it quickly; Have your grocer send you one doz. bottles of SHIVA R GINGER ALE Drink with meals, and if not prompt ly relieved, get your money back at our expense. Wholesome. deli cious, refreshing Prepared with the Miebrated Shivar Mineral Water and the purest flavoring materials. SHIVAR SPRING, Manufacturers SHELTON, 8. C. E. L. ADAMS CO., Distributors, Atlanta, A Weak Stomach ? (J, Have you indigestion or dys pepsia, a torpid liver or any other of the many iHs com ing from a weak stomach T DR. PIERCE’S Qolfien Medical Discovery for forty years has done a “lion’s share’’ in eliminating these distressing ailments. , Ordsr a Bottle from El Your Druggist today /~nes Scott College ihe Session Will Open Wednesday, September 17th, 10 o'Clock A. M. The Committee on Admission of Students will meet at the College Monday and Tuesday, 9 o’clock to 12:30, for classification of new students. All desiring to apply for admission to CoUege urged to meet the Committee Monday or Tuesday. Dor mitories will not be open until Tuesday. ip'