Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, December 21, 1901, Page 2

——— aa ~exclaimed Nugent, : By TOM CHAPTER V. (Continued.) At the Marble Arch the man stopped @md civilly parted from them, pointed ut their way and jogged on again, as @ecd-humoredly as ever. It was now wery late, and there was no prospect, for the Taggetts, at least, but to walk @e their destination. The woman who accompanied them made no suggestion @s to taking any conveyance, and was Brebably as penniless as they were. Mr. Taggett made a feeble attempt as they went along, to beguile the walk with suggestions of the uproarious Saughter with which the events of the day would be greeted in select circles {m years to come; but Mrs. Taggett did get seem to see the point of the joke at that particular time, and the stranger trade along beside them without pay- fing the slightest attention to anything that was said. ‘Thus is was that, worn-out, bedrag- @led and faint with hunger, the three came, at last, to the gate in the wall which led to Rickerby's Folly, and it waz the loud and persistent ringing of the bell by Anthony Taggett which @roduced such a startling effect on Cor- gmelius and his master. After some slight delay the gate was orened, and the old man stood looking @t them, with the lantern held above fis head, the better to scan their faces. + After a little parleying, the gate was ehut, after they had been admitted into the rined garden; and they stood there close together, speaking in whispers, @nd wondering what was to happen mext. Cornelius, in the meantime, had @one into the house, as has already eer related; after a little hurried dis- eussien, Nugent gave orders that the @eople were to be admitted. The better te receive them, he sat down at a table, apparentiy busy with correspondence, and composed: himself as much as pos- eible. ‘The first to enter the room was An- theny Taggett, followed. by his wife. WNegent Leathwood, who had made up ‘his mind what part to play, sprang up ft once and went towards them, with a cordial smile and with his hands out- @tretched. “I beg that you will not offer any @pologies,” he began, hurriedly. “Any friend of poor Gilbert Rickerby must, Of necessity, be a friend of mine. I un- erstand that you ‘have come a long ‘way to see him?” Mr. Taggett nodded; he was some- ‘what surprised by the warmth of this ‘weloome from a stranger, and was about to gasp out a question, when Nu- @ent began again, hurriedly: “Your errand, te Gilbert Rickerby, is a fruitless one. Gilbert Rickerby is dead. Do not speak of ft. I beg; { will tell you all on another occasion. For the present, as E have said, you are my friends, be- ause you were his; for to-night, at least, we will find accommodation for you here.” Mr. Taggett was about to make some attempt to give expression to his sur- prise and sorrow, when he observed an exthaordinary change come over the face of Nugent Leathwood:; he saw, too, that that gentleman was iooking @traight past the man wnose hand he held, towards the door by whica they ead entered. Turning his own head ‘quickly he saw, standing near the dc ‘the woran who had accompanied them ‘Qn their journey; she stood quite still, frowning heavily. “What are you talking about?” she aid, harshly. “What nonsense is this, about Gilbert Rickerby being dead? ‘Why-—you told me that you were Gil- Bert Rickerby when we—"” “Yes—yes, Ursula—I know—I know.” hurriedly. “I told ‘you that, to—to try you—to test your— yeur love——Well, what the dickens do you want?” Old Cornelius had crept to his elbow sand etood there, striving excitedly to @ttract his attention. In a_ hoarse webisper, distinctly heard by the three who stood watching them, the old man man tremblingly blurted out his news: “The gel!—Rickerby’s gel!—I can't @na ‘er anywheres!” CHAPTER VI. Recks Answers an Advertise- ment. Mr. George Reeks—commission agent and general dealer in the small and erafty 2nd shady ways of life—was in @ifficulties. Not that this was anything aut of the common, so far as Mr. Reeks ‘was concerned; perhaps it would have Been somewhat disconcerting to that gentleman if he had found himself, by ome extraordinary trick of fortune, in easy rcumstances. Only, on this oc- asion, things were rather more desper- te than usual; and Mr. Reeks, used as the was to wriggling, had merely suc- @eeded in wriggling himself into a cor- mer from which there seemed to be no @rospect of ever getting out again. Mr. George Reeks was a little man who might, under happier conditions, fhave been cheerful, but who was under ‘the hand of an adverse Fate, merely worried-looking and inclined to melan- hoty. In person he was small and of a wuddy complexion, his hair for the most wart had long since slipped away from @ rather large nead, leaving only some tushy tufts round about the region of this ears and the back of his neck. Ata time when life wore a rosier hue he had marrted a lady of commanding pres- ence, and, to do him justice, had never quite fost sight of a romantic idea that @he was a dream of beauty, and that ghe had condescended greatly in listen- fmg to his addresses. The lady, for her part, did him the honor to be extremely Jeatouc of him, and labored under a constant fear that ke was a species cf ¢@iderty Lothario, to whom a pair of Bight eyes meant madness and the utter of a petticoat despair and disas- ter. Mr. George Reeks lived at No. 2, Lit- tie Pond street, Camden Town—a mod- es* fouse, the upper purt of which was fet out in lodgings at such time as any Gedgers could be found to occupy them. & week before disaster had fully swept Mr. in so far as it relates | COUT CCTTTTOCETTTEY 8 E Rickerby’ S sed 3 GALLON Peveriririe», 0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00-00-0-0-0 down upon him Mr. Reeks had felt that the world was smiling; he had let the whole of the upper part of the house at an astonishing rental, to a man who, in pn apparent fit of madness, desired to live there with his servant, Now, the name of that man was Gil- bert Rickerby, and he had taken the rooms, on coming first to London, on the recommendation of his servant, James Holden, who knew the neighbor- hood well. Mr. Gilbert Rickerby, for his own part, merely desired to hide from his fellows for a while, and was glad enough to find a retreat in this quiet house in a little back street. He was able to pay well, and he was ac- cepted as a tenant without question. Three days after his appearance, however, "he had gone out one night with his servant, and had never re- turned. The rooms, being entered by Mr. Reeks, had disclosed the astound- ing fact that his own and his servant's luggage was open, in the most careless fashion, and the contents spread about the rcoms—evidence that he had in- tended to return. But the days went on, and there was no sign of him; and the dreams of Mr. Reeks of being able to obtain a steady and easy income for an indefinite period from his new lodg- er, began to fade. In deed, at that time Mr. Reeks was in that condition when he had absolutely nothing else to de- pend upon. Quite late one night, when Mr. Reeks sat with Mrs. Reeks in their sitting room, Mrs. Reeks made a discovery. It is usually the woman who makes the discovery in these cases, and Mrs. was not behind her sex in such They had been talking of the mystery of the absent lodger and his servant, and Mr. Reeks had disconso- lately shaken his head and expressed the opinion, more than once, that luck was against him. “It's what I have told you so often, George Reeks; you ought never to have received the man here without a refer- ence On the face of it, it is distinctly absurd to imagine that a man who can not give a respectable reference, should be supposed to act as decent people do. Pecple with references are not in the habit of going out for walks and never coming back any more.” “But, my dear, you forget, that this man paid down @ week’s money in ad- vance, and at the best terms we could offer. There was no hesitation on bis part, and I—” “Hesitation! I should think not, in- deed!” cried Mrs. Reeks, sitting up more stiffly in her chair, ‘Depend upon it, Geerge Reeks, that man had som? dreadful design in his mind when he determined to get into this house. Have you jooked through , his persqnal be‘ongings? “My dear, I wouldn’t ae of such a thing!” exclaimed Mr. Reeks, in horror. ‘ After all, we may be merely worrying oarseives about nothing; the gentleman nay turn up to-morrow, having merely been en a little—a little journey.” “In the words of the vulgar, George Reeks, ‘Pigs may fly.’ Take my word for it, you will never see your precious lodger again, or his servant, either. The best thing you can do, at the moment, is to eat your supper, and be thankfal that you have anything to eat at all. It won't be for long, at the rate things are going.” The “supper” referred to was some- thing very hot, and very economical, which had been brought in from an 2d- jacent cook-shop by the small servant maid who presided—under the direction of Mrs. Reeks—over the domestic part of the establishment. For a few mo- ments, ai least, Mr. Reexs forgot his troubles, as he gazed upon the savory things before him; even Mrs. Reeks consented to smile, and heaved a sigh of satisfaction. But not for long; the demon of unrest was to enter even into that humble meal. For the greater convenience of those who purchase, and with an eye to econ- omy on the part of those who sell, such frugal suppers, they are usually wrapped in paper, and Mr. Reeks, in dividing out the contents of the paper into equal portions, commenced to read, and came across the advertisement of- fering a reward of £100. She stopped, stared, gasped, and at last, forgetful of everything else, swept the savory mor- sels on to a plate, caught up the paper and read aloud the advertisement which Mr. Nugent Leathwood had inserted, imploring Gilbert Rickerby to keep his appointment, and let his loving cousin know of his wherabouts. Now. Mr. Reeks was not in the habit of taking a daily paper; first, because it was expensive; and, secondly, be; cause it did not interest him from a business point of view; whatever ar- rangements he made for the getting or scraping together of a precarious liveli- hood, were usually conducted at the bar of an obscure public house, or, even on occasion, at a street corner. Thus it happened that he knew nothing con- cerning all the newspaper talk there had been about the death of Gilbert Rickerby, or about the forgotten ro- mance which had been thrown around the house where he was born. This scrap of paper, coming in so strange a fashion to him, was the first intimation they had had that Gilbert Rickerby ‘was wanted. Mrs. Reeks read it aloud; Mr. Reeks sat back in his chair and stared at her in amazement; the supper grew cold, but neither of them noticed it. After a long silence, Mr. Reeks spoke in solemn tones: “Rickerby was the name of our lodg- er!” he said, in an awed whisper. “Yes,” said Mrs. Reeks, slowly, “and he is missing. More than that, George, there’s £100 reward!” Mr. Reeks started up wildly, almost upretting the table in his agitation. “Where is he?” he cried; ‘where is the man who cheats me out of his rent, and then goes about with hundreds of pounds tacked on to his name?” “It's very certain that he is not here,” responded Mrs. Reeks, gloomily. “If he was—" Mr, Reeks breathed heavily. “If he was—I'd hold him until you had time to find a policeman; then we might stand some chance of the reward, One hundred pounds, Mrs. Reeks. I never had £10 in one moment in all my life —lez alone ten times ten.” There was another long silence, while Mr. Rickerby looked at the scrap of pa- per—holding it alternately close to his eyes and at arm's length, as though to get the full, dazzling effect of it. Final- ly he put it down with a sigh and shook his head. “It's no good, my dear,” he said. “The man has gone; if he wanted to put in an appearance, he would have dcne it before this—if only for the sake of that £100: I'd have put in fifty ap- pearances for that amount.” Mrs. Reeks was thinking hard. She sat, with her chin on her hand, staring, with knitted brows, at her husband, and now and then slowly nodding her head. At last she spoke: “George Reeks—it seems to me that there is something to be made of this.” Mr. Reeks sat upright and looked at his wife. “Think hard, Mrs. R.,” he said; you have a wonderful mind, if you care to put yourself to it. Think hard.” “TI am thinking harder than I ever thought in my life before, George Reeks,” she added, nodding at him with much gravity. “I always said that I ought to have been the man, because I have got the headpiece.” “True, my love—most true,” replied Mr Reeks, admiringly. “And what says that headpiece?” “It says, in the first place, George Reeks, that this Mr. Gilbert Rickerby went away from here in a most desper- ate hurry; and it says, further, that he left belongings and papers behind him—" “Steady, Mrs. R.—go steady; I’m getting excited!” broke in Mr. Reeks. “More than that,” went on Mrs, Reeks, rising and pointing aloft, like a prophetic spirit; “it says that those pa- pers are up stairs, in his room, now; that he is disposed of, or keeping away, for his own purposes; it says, also, that we want to know what is in these papers, and what bearing they have on this advertisement, and on a certain reward of £100. That's what it says, George Reeks; what do you think of it?” Mr. Reeks had risen, also, in his growing excitement; but he quailed be- fore the infinite possibilities which seemed to be opened out in the larger mind of his wife. ‘““What—what ought we to do?” he asked, feebly. Mrs. Reeks had but one reply. She stepped forward quickly and grasped him by the arm. “Come up stairs,” she said, in a tragic whispers They went up together; hesitated for a moment at the door of the room; and then went in—Mrs. Reeks first. Mrs. Reeks carried a candle; and the place —although it was but a comfortably- furnished, middle-class room—had ‘something of an eerie appearance, by reason of what was in their minds; perhaps they had thought that the mys- terious Gilbert Rickerby might start, at any moment, from the shadows, and confront them. On a table near the window, were spread some papers, which had been pulled, hurriedly, out of a leather writ- ing case and left exposed to view. On these Mrs. Reeks pounced at once, seat- ed herself in the chair by the table, and began to read them. “To begin with—a diary,” she whis~ pered. “Th elast page unfinished, with! a line broken off in the middle.” “Read it—read it, Mrs. R.,” said George Reeks, in a trembling voice. Mrs. Reeks read: “To-night I will put the theory of my life to the test;, to-night I will give the lie to all those croakers who say that there is no truth in man or faith in wo- men. I did wrong to bind an innocent girl to me, by a promise she was unable to keep. To-night I will play the fairy godmother, and cry, ‘God bless you, my children!’ To-night some of the old mistakes, born in me and bred in me by a selfish father, shall be swept away and atoned for. I go to meet the man who loves my dear girl; I go to give her to him. God bless him if he be worthy of her; God help him if—” Here the entry bioke off abruptly, as though the writer bad not quite made up his mind how to express what he felt. Mrs. Reeks laid her hand on the @iary and loked up at her husband. ‘Now, the thing is pretty clear, so far as we can judge,” she said. “He told you, if you remember, that he had but just returned from abroad; that he was unknown in England. It is evident that the entry refers to an appointment he was to keep; the advertisemet tells us that he did not keep it. Now, he left this house intent cn keeping that ap- pcintment; he was in such a hurry about it that he would not stop to finish what he was writing or to put away his papers. The fact remains that he did not keep the appointment; the further fact stands that the appointment was so important that the other party is willing to pay £100 to see him. Do you follow me?” “A—a little, my dear,” replied Mr. Reeks. ‘You go at such a fearful rate, that it is difficult to follow you at all.” He leaned his head upon his hand in a state of bewilderment. “What do you expect me to do?” “In the first place, George Reeks,” said Mrs. Reeks, in a business-like tone, “two things are clear. This diary sug- gests that Gilbert Rickerby knew very little, if anything, about the man he was going to meet; the advertisement suggests that the man he was to meet knew very little about him. Very well, then; here is my proposal.” “Make it as easy as. you can, my dear,” pleaded Mr. Reeks. “It's as easy as winking if you put your mind to it,” replied Mrs. Reeks, sternly. ‘You shall answer this adver- tisement; you shall find out how the land lies; you shall, if possible, claim to know more of this Gilbert Rickerby than you really do; and you shall, if possible, get the reward.” Mrs. Reeks sat back in the chair, folded her arme, and looked at her husband with much determination. “But—but, my dear—what do I know about the matter?” he urged. “What does anybody know about the matter?” she retorted. “If this Nugent Leathwood, who advcrtises, had known anything about the matter, or about the man, he would have known where to apply concerning him—would have known, for instance, that he was living here; and there would have been no necessity for him to advertise at all or to offer such a reward. No, George Reeks, this is,the chance of a life-time, and you must take it.” “But, my dear, mention fs made in the diary of a—a girl,” hazarded Mr, Reeks. “That has nothing to do with you!” replied Mrs. Reeks, sharply. “You have to concern yourself with money, not girls. We don't want any nonsense of that kind, George Reeks. Now, we'll just glance through the rest of the pa- pers and see what is to be found,” ‘They glanced through the rest of the papers, and found documents of all Finds—some relating to shares and stocks; warrants for payment of mon- ey on this, that and the other; valuable securities of all sorts. Then they looked at each other, this poverty-stricken pair, debt forever hammering at their reor doors, and a new intelligence seemed to flash from one to the other. Mrs. Reeks hurriedly thrust all the pa- p2rs into the writing case and faced her husband. “George Reeks—there is more in this than I thought. No man would g0 away and leave all this behind him un- less he felt that, for some reason, he could not face the world. George—you shall face it for him!” “What do you mean?” gasped Mr. Reeks, recoiling from her. “I mean that Gilbert Rickerby has dropped out of existence; that this man, who wants him so badly, does not, -.p- parently, know where to find him; that ne has been abroad for years; that you, George Reeks, shall blossom out into Gilbert Rickerby—and make what you can out of it!” Mr. Reeks began to protest feebly. “Quite impossible, my love; I never personated anyone in all my life, and I'm not going to begin now.” Mrs. Resks got up and took him strongly and fiercely by the shoulders; in that position she towered above him, and he visibly quailed. “George Reeks, she said, in a determined voice, “you have been a failure; as George Recks you cannot live respectably. Now you shall have to try as Gilbert Rickerby; you shall put a bold face on it” (as if it were possible for Mr. Reeks to put a bold face on anything!) “and see what can be done. In any case, we can’t be worse off than we are at the present moment—and I’m desperate!” “I'm desperate enough,’” replied Mr. Reeks; ‘but I don’t see what good this is going to do. It’s all very well to say that I am to blossom out as Gilbert Rickerby; but I’m not a bit like him.” “That's not in the least necessary,” said Mrs. Reeks, airily. “I only say that it must be done as a temporary measure, If you have the pluck to stick to it that you are Gilbert Rickerby, it may mean money in your pocket; peo- ple who are prepared to throw £100 about are not likely to be particular what they spend. Take the plunge, George Reeks—and take it boldly; if the worst comes to the worst, and they search yeu, they will at least find that your linen is marked ‘G. R.’ “But what am I to do?” asked Mr. Reeks, spreading out his hands, feebly. I may carry the thing through at first --but they are bound to find me out.” “Let them!” said Mrs. Reeks. “Nev- er mind about the future; make what you can, at the moment, of the fact that you know something of Gilbert Richerby, and that you have his papers in your hands.” “His papers! Yes, that’s a strong Eoint. After all, as you say, Mrs. R. we can’t be much worse off than we are, and I can always find some way of slipping out of it. Now, let me think what sort of a man this Gilbert Ricker- by was; and let me pluck up courage enough to carry the matter through.” Mr. Reeks discovered that it wanted more courage than he was at that mo- ment possessed of. But, after a sleep- less night,’and the discovery that the morning brought nothing better than two irate tradesmen, who told him pret- ty roundly what they thought of hin he determined, in desperation, to see what could be done; in the event of failure to personate Gilbert Rickerby he felt that there might be some pros- pect of trading uron his knowledge of the diary and the papers, and screwing some money out of someone. Waiting until nighfall, he made himself as re- spectable as a limited wardrobe would permit and set off for St. John’s Wood. Now, there are many ways of getting from Camden Town to St. John’s Wood. ff one has leisure, and the weather be fine, it is possible to walk, and to note, as one walks, of the change of each neighborhood as it merges itself into the next; or there are omnibuses which strike a path into the heart of the mys- terious region, and seem to lose them- selves and their passergers in it. Or there are cabs, which may be had for the hailing, at street corners, and which will deliver one, as it’ were, within an inch of the spot one desires to reach. Mr. Reeks, knowing well the depth of his pocket, and having private reasons of his own, decided to walk, But, as has been said, Mr. Reeks was not a ccurageous being; and, moreover, he had before him a difficult task. Therefore, with a laudable desire to keep up the small measure of couraze he possessed, he stepped into the first public house he saw and partook of cer- tain strong liquors. Indeed, after that he may be said to have punctuated his erratic path with such pauses; so that, by the time he had arrived at the gate of Rickerby’s Folly, he was preparerd to swear positively, not only that he was the real Gilbert Rickerby, but that he was anyone else who might be suz- gested to him at the moment. Cornelius admitted him; Cornelius saw him go swaying unsteadily up the garden towards the house; Cornelius ushered him into the room wherein Nu- gent Leathwood sat, with the simple announcement that here was a gentle- man to see him. Leathwood, starting up from his chair, confronted this strange-looking little creature, with a hat cocked jaunt- iyl over one watery ey, and demanded to krow what he wanted. “One ’unnerd pounds ’ward!” claimed the apparition, sleepily. Mr. Gilbert Rickerby!” ex- “Pm CHAPTER VII. A Dead Mr.n’s Money. However startling it may have been to Nugent Leathwood to have this man standing before him and proclaiming himself by that name, which already seemed to haunt him night and day, he soon recovered from the shock; saw that whatever this man was or what- ever he might know, he was, at the best, a weak little creature, half-stu- pefied with drink and scarcely knowing at the moment who he was or what he said. However, precautions had to be taken; Leathw2od came slowly toward the swaying figure, and stood before it, with his hands thrust in his pockets, and stared at him leisurely. “So you are Gilbert Rickerby, are you?” he asked, quietly. Mr. Gilbert Rickerby—back from the grave! Do you understand me?—back from the grave, I say!” “What—what d’you mean?” stain- merered Mr, Reeks, pattly-sobered by the manner of the other and by the words, “I mean that, Gilbert Rickerby is dead —died nearly a week ago; that he lies in his grave and is almost forgotten by this time. Where have you been wan- dering, you madman, not to know that?” Mr. Reeks opened his mouth as if to say something, shut it again hurriedly, and turned and made for the door. But before he reached it, however, the hand of Nugent Leathwood fell upon his shoulder and twisted him round, and the eyes of Nugent Leathwood were looking into his qualing ones. “Don’t run away,” said the quiet voice. “There is some game on here which I do not understand. Come, now, who put you on to this game, and who are you, really? You are not Gilbert Rickerby; of that I am certain. But you know something about him. Why, don’t you know that Gilbert Rickerby was a young man of twenty-six?” Mr. Reeks nodded feebly. ‘About that, I should think,” he said. “Oh! so you know him, do you? This grews interesting. Come, sit dow”. my friend, and let us hear what you. tave to say for yourself.” He pushed the reluctant Mr. Reeks into a chair, and seated himself on the edge of the table close beside nim. ‘Now, let me hear what you have to say about this Gil- bert Rickerby.” George Reeks saw, only too plain'y, that he was in a remarkably tight place; even in his muddled state, at the moment he was quite capablec of recog- nizing that fact. Moreover, this calm man, With the quiet voice and the dark hair, had abou: him a certain sense of power that was not to be denied. There- fore, with some attempt to treat the matter as a mere joke, and with many labored apologies for the mistake he had made, the little man made a full confession—-pointing out how he had been tempted by some faint hope of the reward which was offered. Nugent Leathwood listened with the closest at tention—asking a question now and then, and occasionaliy breaking in with a short, Gry laugh. At the end of the re- cital the little man sat cowering in his chair, fully sobered, and wondering, dimly, what was going to happen . (To Be Continued.) As the Orient Sees Us. “Is.this Brooklyn. bridge built for Americans or Europeans, uncle? Péo- ple crossing here use no English,” I said. Liberty Statue! I will let the Beauty Statue hall from the Bay of Yeddo when I am wealthy enough to afford it. We walked down Broadway. We came to a graveyard. Tombstones in the midst of com- merce! O romantic New York! I wondered how Wall street gentle- men would be struck glancing at them. What a soft silence hovered! The old Gothic church was my own ideal. “Uncle, cried. The morning serv! tee was proceeding. Alas and alas! Not one soul was there. Is this a-religiour city?—From the American Diary of a Japanese Girl, in Frank Leslie's Popular Monthly for December, let us fall in and rest,” I Question of Beauty. In the early Indiana days, when both judges and attorneys literally “rode the circuit,” a newly elected judge, noted for his lack of personal beauty, was plodding along on horseback between two county-seats one fine summer day. Suddenly he was confronted by a hunt- er, who unslung his squirel rifle from his shoulder, and ordered the horse- man to dismount. Somewhat startled by this. peremptory command, the jur- ist began to remonstrate. He was quickly cut short, however, by the re- mark: “It’s no use talking. I long ago swore that if I ever met a homlier man than I am I’d shoot him on sight.” The judge, sfzing up the situation, premptly got off his horse. Folding his arms he faced his assailant, and said: ‘If Iam any homlier than you are, for heaven’s sake do shoot and be quick about it.” Needless to say, his wit saved him.—Argonaut. Benevolence Its Qwn Reward. “Hear about old Gcodboy’s adven- ture lasv night?” “Nope; caught in the act of per- forming a virtue, as usual, I suppose.” “Not quite. Adventure of charity. Met a young man he knew. Young man had dined not wirely, but too well. Said to young man, ‘Come ‘long, old chap, I'll see you home all right.’ Young man came and Goodboy brought him to the house, leaned him against the door post, rang the bell and de- scended. Didn't get half way down stairs when he heard a shrill woman’s voice and the young man coming after him. Young man came quick and head first. Was almost sober when he reached the sidewalk. “What'd jue do? I don’t live there—I moved last week.’ he sobbed. And Goodboy staid late on the curb opposite waiting to see what would happen to the man that did live there.”—New York Times. The Future of the Holy Land. .Palestine is not destined to be simply a pastoral country. The suburbs of Jerusalem and Jaffa are increasing at such a rate that one almost fores2es the time when Jerry building will be traced to Jerico. The bulk of the Jews live in towns in Jerusalem, in Tiberius, in Safed, and for these Jews urban in- dustries must be created—olive-wood carving, embroidery, ready-made ciothes, straw-plaiting, basket-making, soap and glass maunfacture, jam-mak- ing—all were suggested at a recent conference of the colonization societies, now at*last awake to the actualities of the problem. The Iea has set up & weaving room in Jerusalem, the wool and silk of which are procured in Pal- estine and Egypt. A dyeing factory and a lace factory are in preparation. —tI. Zangwill, in Frank Leslie's Popular Monthly for December. No Objection to That. “AN I ask is your endorsement—” “Now, my dear sir,” pretested Sena- tor Sorghum, “Of my political policy.” “Oh, that’s all right. I thought you psith rman about,a note.”—-Washing- ton Star. “Welcome, oast Pig.—tIn the first place, never roast a pig over five weeks old, and three weeks is the better age. Do not trust to the butchers but go over every part of the body and give a_ thor- ough cleaning. Roll up the ears in greased cloths, to prevent their burning; stuff the pig with stale bread dressing seasoned with pepper, pow- dered sage and butter. In stuffing the pig leave room for the bread to swell, and sew up neatly. Skewer the fore legs forward; the hind legs backward. Rub all over with butter, dredge with flower that has been seasoned with salt and pepper. Place a piece of wood between the teeth and stand on the rack in a dripping pan. Roast in s moderate oven, basting every 15 min- nutes with melted butter, to which a little boiling water has been added. The time for roasting will vary from 2% to 4 hours, according to the size of the pig. The ears should be unwrap- ped the last three-quarters of an hour. To serve, stand the pig in a large platter with a garland of cress or something green around the edge. Put a wreath of parsley around the neck and something/in the mouth—a lemon, or apple, a bit of cauliflower or any- thing effective. The dishes comple- mental to roast pig are apple sauce, turnips and sweet potatoes, Pium Pudding.—The best plum pud- ding being the worst indigestive con- sequences, I offer a modified recipe, which I can vouch for as “perfectly de- lcious.” Three-fourth cupful of mo- lasses, one cupful of brown sugar, one cupful of finely chopped suet, three cupfuls of bread crumbs, two cupfuls of flour, one cupful of sweet milk, one cupful of mixed raisins, citron and cur- rants chopped, one teaspoonful of soda. Sift the sugar into the molasses and add the milk and suet. Mix the soda evenly through the flour and add the fruit to it, tossing it about to insure it being coated, then put into the wet mixture, adding last of all the bread crumbs. Boi] or steam im molds for three hours. This pudding may be made a week before using, one being careful to reheat thoroughly the day it is used. Just before serving pour some brandy over the pudding and set it op the fire, so that it will be enveloped in # blue flame when placed om the table. cleaning, THE CHRISTMAS GIRL. (In three ages.) © THE DIAMOND aGh No mind is so great that tt cannot, influenced by o small ena i. | N ——a ~ oy