THE-BEST OF LIFE.

—. » -«m »ound and lon«. T«l th« d»y U Blled with U>« lilt of * »oek, Xsd you walk with a world-wlda brotherhood.

Winning a lore?

Ind th»*h-

When the ihaU

BUII a better Ufa.

beau faeter with hope* and tear*,

look* on to the hap-e year* at laet be woe—and wile!

Bat keeping a lore Ah ! that la beat The doubting, wondering hope la

Deep truat and tnitl

Deep trail and troth ha*« >e perfect life of lore and r -Langdon Ballinger, In t><

brought at laat

reaL

ir, In Good Houaekaep-

I Bound for Halifax, j

t a. coaaiT-akTwoca.

Madeline Harding lay still and calm; her (are had no fear In It. no longing to grasp at life as It slipped away from her. She was 12 years of age. and the had known very little happiness. Nor had that little come anywhere neat the rcrUltauon of her childish dreams. On the whole, when she knew that hei B. time was nearly tip. she felt glad. The only regret was that she could do ' t do more to help others, and that some ! few night miss her as a friend—until they found one In her place. The end was very near, when a remarkable thing happened. A slow l fumbling footstep ascending the stair? was followed by the appearance of a . v stranger In the doorway who. In a !; hoarse tone, and glancing at the nurse In charge, said.— “I want Mrs. Edward Harding." Hie hair was long and as white as Kj- Snow; so was his beard. H!s eyes were big and hollow and they, had a | harshness which made the nurse r shrink back when they fixed hey with ‘ a stare. "I want Mrs. Edward Hardly. Ing." said the unknown, for the second j time; but without moving a step for- | ward from the door, which a startled : maid servant hod thrown upon for t . him. “She is here,",responded the nurae. The old man turned to the bed, and I his voice began to quaver as he spoke. “Mrs. Edward." he said, and his hand stcok as he laid It on the coun* i' tsrpane, "it's me—the man you saved | - from a lot of misery! Me. Charles '• Brown, that swore he’d come back to prove he was grateful. Oh. you poor i thing!" he added with a low cob. as i light was given him to under,md , that this was a dying woman, "hn.-e I come just too late for you to know | me? To be glad I’ve kept my word? ! Can’t yon speak to me? Can't you H give me Just a look out of those eyes j' that never turned away when I was j in the very worst of r y trouble?" But not a word came; not even, a j- slimmer of recognition flitted across | ‘that still, calm face. Then the whiteB haired’ man sank down on bis knees ' by the bed. ‘ ' “She’s dead, or next thing to It." he j moaned, "and I'm too late! It's Jnst j my wretched luck. And I've come so far and J knew she'd be glad, and now i nothing matters." He tore open a f'-. packet he had carried In his hand and t . a little bwndle of bank notes fell wt | upon the counterpane. “I was so pleased to bring them baek.”*murmured | the man. "to show her I kept my word! | And now I don't care for anything." With which remark be quietly y fainted, there, where he knelt, on the floor. The brothers of the dying woman were looking anxiously at him whnn he recovered consclofsnens. But he

upon his fare gathered tho^bank notes . together and replaced them In nis breast pocket. Then, with a glance at

counties of England.^ For years all to show her Just a little of what I feel

went fairly well; he married, had children. and was contented with bis lot. Suddenly, and from no explainable cause, a run at mlafortune set In for Charles Brown. Crops failed, times were l»d. his wife and the two children died within a week of each other by an Infectious fever, and at the year's end he found himself hesvily in debt and ou the road to ruin. Then, like many another unhappy creature, he tried the consolation of drink, which, as a matter of course, led him from bad lo worse. Finally he resolved tnat to make away with his life was all that remained lo be done. "And it was she—the lady who didn't live to see I'd kept my word—that saved m?," he said. "I had asked one and another to give me a helping hand to’ Bet out of the country to somewhere that woufd open afresh chance: but it was no use. —a n—rsou he was. too. who hsd married me and my poor Annie and baptised our children—said he never helped any but deserving men; another bad too many claims—he was the nobleman of whom I rented my farm. It was the seme all round. No one ready to start a man afresh, and that was bow 1 made up my mind that, as there seemed no way to live, the best way out of my difficulties was to die. So I cleared out of the old home, selling my stick, and all that was left me. and then, with a few c'otaee 1 done up In a hurdle and a matter of twenty shillings in my pocket. 1 mads for the sea. It was only a walk of a few miles to where the boats started to cross ths channel, and l meant to take my passage at night and Just pitch mysell overboard when I got half way." "And this lady—how did she hell

yott?" I asked.

“I'm coming to It." answered the old man. ".As I've begun, you shall heal my story to the end. A dark nigh it was. though not stormy. There didn't seem to be man>ypassengers and the few there were had all gone below. or at least 1 thought so. 'Now'j your chance. Don't be a coward!" said I lo myself, and I got away to the stem of the boat, where there was no ont to look and I was Just going to take the leap when I felt a hand on m> arm and saw the figure of a woman rising up from a corner where I badn'l

known there was anybodj

i pei

luiet. kind sou jf just what the trouble is. . „ help you if I can.' “At first 4 wouldn't: bat she began persuading me and of last I found myself telling her everything as though I'd known her all my life. “Tts your place. I would not give in without gaother try.' she eaid when I'd made a clean breast of everything, 'and I telleve that for a new life there's nothing iike a new country. Why not go to Canada?' “ 'Because I can't.' I answered, and then I pulled out the few shillings' which wire all I had left after paying my ticket from Dover. That won't take me to Canada.' I said, 'nor to anywhere else that 1 know of. Better let. me drown myself, ma'am— there's no vein wanted in the next world. I'm thinking, supposing there is a next

world '

" -Oh. I can't let you be a coward!' said the lady, and so kindly! Then: wasn't any o.uotlng lexis, or preaching nt me. or telling me I *a» a miserable sinner. I expact she knew It wasn't the right moment for anything of that sort. -1 live Just a short railway !!*- tan'-e from where we shall land.’ she .said, 'and though min? Is only a little home, t have a spare room wheip I shall be pleased for you to 8le?p for a night or two while we arrange

tilings.

"JX am not rich, bat

. My.

'Don't be desperate.' she said

quiet, kind sou of way. 'At any rate.

I in three daysA rh mdn»y to go

t pocket. Then, w

the lifeless form of the woman who In rotrld TSnd you enough money some unrevcaied trouble had proba- ! -away to that big country where men

like you are wanted, animate sure to g.ton. Wtllyougo? When you grow

rich you can pay me back.*’’*-

bly befriended him. he went away. f He was seen at the f tncral. walking 'brtjnd the mourners. Then he finally L disappeared, and the little Incident : was soon forgetten by the very few j who had known anything about It. | I was one of those few; the why and 6 because of that fact has nothing to do

-J with the present story.

> *, A week or two later I took the train from London to Liverpool, and on looking round the compartment at my i fellow travelers. I recognized the old 1 - man with white hair and beard, who ■poke of himself as ''Charles Brown" when Mrs. Edward Hard'ng was dy-

ing.

His ey es were fixed upon the window r— by which be bad taken his seat, but I | am certain that he saw nothing—nnL leas, indeed, be had some mental vision of his own past or his future. After a while we two had the carriage to ourselves, except for one elderly lady whose capacity for sleeping ‘ i railway Journey was i astounding. I look ; a vacant place nearer to blia. and ft,.* t he was “Bound for Halifax." answered the old man, quietly, and then added, “for Canada, you know." “A fine country, and full of pose!-. L bflttlea." I said. "I have sometimes should like to emigrate.“ I do not think he was listening; ht And fixed his eyes again upon the outside world aa soon as hedtad answered After an Interval I made another r attempt, asking if he had ever before [_ crossed the Atlantic. "tee—fire years ago,” he said. “And

t came back a few weeks sine* to find

the only true friend I ever possess'd

L ! But I xame tco tfte.” ^

Another silence, and then as If oved by some strong and irresistible

impulse, the strange old man made me

acquainted with his life atory.

I: and l felt a big lump com? in my •hroat that choked back all the Winks ••at my heart was full of. / "So she took me to her home nnd made me feel as welcome as though l had been one of her own friends, and In n weeks time I was gpn'—with a right gcod will. too. to succeed ahA make something better of ray Lf*?." "And did y>u sue ■eed?" I paid. “yes. I’ve nothing to complain of." answered the old man. "except that she didn't Hv4 to boar all I hail done. Bat I had paid her back before the yeor wa‘ t out; and In two mor- v-ars I d squared up every debt I’d left behind me. And then, w hen money kent on coming in. I wrote to her lhat I was going to give myself a trip across the oIr hfmng pond, to show her I'd not been quite unworthy of her kludnew. and to ask her if there was any oiler fellows as unfortunate as I bad been who could be set going by a few of xry •“auk noiea. ’tut I was too late.” "Ann now what are you suing to

do*"

*Tm Just going hack again.” answered the loan. "There'* nothing else I can da I’ve been reading over some of Mm. Edward Hardings letSo write to me every

then. And I think that'* what d adv.se If she could speak to

me. And the money I have here"—he

touched the breast pocket of his coat— "and what I can make, shall go to help thos that are down on their lurk, same as I was when she held out her kind hand to me aboard that chnme'

steamer.”

I had taken a fancy to this CbaH-s Brown, and I lingered a day or two-in 1-iverpool. and finally saw him on board the ship bound for aHlifax. “I’d like a few flowers put on her

TolC briefly. It was this: He had grave/' were his last words to n«. “if a small fanner, like bis father you should be over there, perhans you before him. la one of the southern wouldn’t mind seeing to It. J'd like

I fancy she knows all

f." was my an ,—Wxverley h

them I the les

"I believe she doe*." was as we clasped hands;

zlne.

BEAUTY IN VEGETABLES. Caraallsa af ths Tomato sad Koyal Par.

pis if Ksd Cabbaes.

Amusement has been offered recent-

ly by a real or pretended recommendation of vegetables for millinery adornment. attributed to a vegetarian soclHy. DouL-Ucks the prosaic associations of th»se with cookery will bar

froa- such use. But it is none true that beauty of form and

tolor abounds In the products of the kitchen garden; and the subj-ct has been wholly neglected perhaps because. as In other things, it Is so conLineally presented to the eye that It Is overt->oked by vriters. It has not been wholly slighted hr the painters: aoute of the most elaborate groups in "still life" pictures have been made

up of vegetables; and kitchen gani>

pa!

e* peti the street that the beauty of vegetables Is especially forced on attention. Of course, the vegetables and fruits bring their colors with them from the country. But It Is along the barren street that the beauty Is presented to us. How many of the passers-by have eyes to see it and featt upon It dally? But Hip Italian, at least, who often pretides over tL must enjoy a polychromatic delight, for his wife chooses blazing huts in personal adornment. But the vegetables, of all artistic tints and forms! The potato seems to be the only exception: it is a pig alike in form, color and dirt. But if It were well cleaned. Us tuff or red and its argus eyes might count for sim-tLIng. Take the potato's relative, however, the tomato. When not crimson or ye’low. it is pure and Intense carneltan; and perhaps Its warm tints gave It thn old naAe, "love apple." The red cabbage isToyal purple: it la used hy chemists to get a fine vegetable color. The egg plant is purple even to blackness, profoundly rich In hue. The blood beet is *0 deep a purplish red lhat it may even remind one of Keats' wotds. "Deep-dy^d as with the h’ h>1 of kings." The carrot is pore salmon red. and adds its bits of gloW-'to 'our soup. And then there is th^ bright rose red of the radish, the globular Moiety of which is sometimes cut into loses to grace a dinner table. The red pepners are appropriately of fiery colThe yellow* „ are no lees rich. Squasnes delight in this, as well as in all fanciful forms, snowing all golden effects from pale lemon yellow to deephuratag orange- Along with these are

green prdourts. there sre all hues snd shades, and In seme these are marvellously variegated, as In the blotched :ipe» of the citron melon and the -ll-named snake watermelon; also In the curiously netted stripes of the luash. The whites have apoque alf colored with red; the flesh-like purity of the parsnip and the pearly luster of green corn and white onion. The color is. of course, enhanced by form. In which, for variety, the squashes lead the garden host, with iound. lobed. pyriform, or with swanlike shapes. But what a varlely of each of the what full! i. as In the rotund, compact cab- >. the obiate lobed tomato, and the

tables we have the charmingly crlm-1-ltd and crinkled leaves, and some dissected Into fringes and frills, as In jiarxfey and the exquisite mats of "chicory salad ’ Utility alon? doesmot reign In the market garden; beauty revels there In root and fruit, and smiles forth In the green-grocer s display. Indeed, the growing foliage only might be arranged In a pretty display for landscape ga-denlng—say strlped-leafed corn for centre, the red.temmend and biocd-leafed rhubarb btirroundlng this, then the purple cabbage. next the finely fringed parsnip, followed by the red-topped beet, and fronted with a border of bright yel-low-green lettuce heads.—Popular fgi-

ence News.

A Karat KoUlwr** for KrrrjrboitrSome years ago I had a little pas-sage-at-arms with a gentleman who prepared to prove the royal descent of almost any man In the street, for a payment of ten pounds down. When I hinted some doubt of his bona fldes, be called upon me and showed, by a fairly plausible argument, that almost very body has^coyal blood in hiselns. If he only knew it. When you remember, on the one band, that you bad two grandfathers and two grandmothers. eight ancestors in the previous generation, sixteen in the generation before that and so on. and, on the other, that as yon go back, the popu lation of the country decreases—at the time of the Conquest it has probably not a tent of what It Is now—you can easily see that the present Inhabitants of these Islands could not oil be supplied with ancestors unless the same people were used over and over again. {Urii ancestor must, in fact, do duty for so many descendants, that the probability Is that we all of ua have a great many of them In common. That is why the majority of people hare royal progenitors somewhere in the dim vista of the past.— . London Truth.

By means of an Injection of a coloring matter lhat is not poisonosu into the veins Dr. Icard of Marseilles claims to be able without danger to distinguish death from catalepsy.

New York City .-The illustration shows one of the season’s most popular garments, sn Eton of bltck tsffets with white pesu de sole trimmings

MTOS WITH Samoa OOr.T.i»

and an ecru linen embroidered collar. The Jacket Is simply adjusted with shoulder and underarm seams. It reaches Just to the waist line at the back and has a fashionable dip in

front

The fronts are shaped with single bust darts and may be fastened below the collar if so desired, but these Jack-

of the wrapper. The skirt touches in front and has a graceful sweep In the back. Bands of satin ribbon finish the collars and cuffs. The mode may be developed in challe, albatross, cashmere, nun's veiling, or French flannel. It Is also appropriate for lawn, dimity, gingham or mercerised cotton, and may be made with or without lining. To make the wrapper in the medium •lae will require seven yards ot thirty-six-inch material with three-quarter yards of all-over embroidery. ■*

Some dressy little frocks for summer wear are made of white wash silk which comes a few yards wide, and will launder Just as well as a swlss or dimity. Both of these virtues are very desirable in fabrics for children's garments. The dress shown here Is made of white silk with lace trimmings. The waist is mounted on a fitted body lining that closes in the centre back and is cut slightly low at the neck. The full front and backs are gathered at the upper and lower edges and arranged over the lining. The fulness at the neck Is confined to the square portion, and the waist flt« smoothly on the shoulders. The lining and body portions are joined separately in the underarm seam, and the waist blonses stylishly

WRAPPER WITH SAILOR COLLAR.

eta are usually worn open to display the fancy vest or neck piece worn beneath. Bands of peau de sole finish the edges. The broad sailor collar is of same material, covered with separate collar of linen. It completes the neck and gives a becoming, broadshouldered effect. The sleeves are regulation coat models, fitted with upper and under par-. i. They hare slight fulness the shoulders and flare In bells at the Tists. Etons In this style are made of peau de sole, moire, taffeta or any lightweight woolen fabric, and usually lined with white, as they are Intended to accompany light-colored wa Tucked or hemstitched taffeta may be used for the collar and motifs of lace applied. To make the Eton In the medium ■Ise will require two and one-half yards of twenty-two-inch material, with five-eighth yard of contrasting material for collar.

Cool, comfortable .bouse gowns are made of China and India silk, which come In many different colors and are more expensive than fine gingham, e possession of an attractive wrapper is a source of great satisfaction to most women, and the desire for stylish bouse garments'should be en-

ouraged.

In the wrapper illustrated in the large drawing vlolvt and black aUk is trimmed with all-over lace and sfctin ribbons. It is mounted on a gloveflrted lining that closes In the front. ' Three backward turning tucks at each side of the centre back atltched down a short distance, the ess forming a Watteau back. A smooth adjustment 1* maintained un-

der the arms.

The full fronts are gat! neck and drawn In at the waist wL_ satin ribbons that are Included In the under arm seams and tie In a bow with long ends. A high bapd turn-down collar completes the neck. A broad tailor collar of lace is

the nth

front. lasteuing on top. Bands of velvet rlbbotland lace form an attractive finish around the bottom

over the soft belt of pale blue liberty satiD. frhe sailor collar extends across the back and forms square tabr In front It Is fastened permanently on the left side and closes Invisibly on the right The sleeves are short full puffs that terminate In narrow arm bands. Lace on the collar bands and waist provides a stylish finish. The skirt is gathered In several rows of • birring at the top and arranged at the lower edge of the body portion, closing In the centre back. It Is trimmed with two bands of lace. The shirring Increases the size of the hips and makes a very becoming skirt for slender girls. Dresses In this style are made of challie, albatross, crepe de chine, or-

otan's nai

gandie, lawn or dimity, with lace or

ribbon-for trimming.

To make the dress for a girl eight years old will require two and onequarter yards of forty-inch materiaL Debts expand the more they are con-

NEW JERSEY STATE NEWS. Special Condensed Dispatches Pros Many Points. THREW HERSELF~BEFORE A TRAIN. A Rifle Boll la Yosai Woasi's SU« —Strikers Piss (er Thslr Owi Fscterv —Fir* Frlffct-

A woman giving the name of 1 Henderson. 56 years old. and Ji

street. Philadelphia, as her ipted to commit suicide

:ar> old. and Juniper ia. as her address, at-

tempted to commit suicide on the East Side. Camden, by throwing herself in front of an express train. The attention of Special Policeman Hare was attracted by the peculiar actions of the woman, who was noticed to walk half a dozen times across the track as though watching for a train. He ordered her to leave, bnt.she refused to go until threatened with arrest. A half hour later Hare saw the woman near the State Street Station. She dropped with her head on the track as an express trail) was approaching. Policeman Hare dragged her from the tracks just as the train sped past She was arrested, but re-

fused to talk.

Printers and color mixers in New Brunswick arc contemplating a co-op-erative factory instead of returning to v»ork in the local wall paper factories where they were employed. There are 4S strikers, and it is calculated that each man can contribute a: least $:ooo for the purpose. Other capital can be produced. and W. Henry Drinkwater. of Buffalo, president of the National Trade Association, is looking after the interests of .the strikers and encouraging them so far as he can. None of the strikers has returned to work, and it is believed the details for the factory .scheme will be completed next week.

•low. wrho Irunswick.

and Miss Lillian Hube. of Trenton, w seriously wounded Young Barlow w celebrating the Fourth. His cousin w standing near by. Sudenly the rifle was discharged. The young woman fell to the ground with a bullet in her side She is in a precarious condition. James Lambert, of Pittsburg. Pa. who has been working with a gang oi men laying pipes for the South Jersey Gas Company, walked seven miles to Trenton and went to the Municipal Hospital in that city suffering with the smallpox. Every precaution has been taken to check the spread oi the dis-

ease.

Major Daniel T. Mathers, of the Third Regiment. N'. G. N. J.. held an election for lieutenants, with the result that Harry E. Pennell, first sergeant, and Carl Voelker. sergeant, were elected to fill vacancies caused by the resignation of Lieutenants E. M McCann

and James B. Adams.

John Schiller. 24 years old. machinist, of Philadelphia, and a member of the Clifton Boat Club, fell out of a boat ax Bridgeport and was drowned. The body was recovered and shipped to his

friends in Philadelphia.

The house of Louis Downatn. of Newport. was burned to the ground. Nothing was sayed. Mrs. Downam was so badly frightened that she dropped dead from heart failure. The loss by the fire is $1500. The origin is unknown. Because a cannon would not go off quick enough to suit Harry Dengcs, of Bridgeton, he looked into the muzzle and just at that time the charge exploded and carried away ^ portion of Dcn-

ges' face.

John P. Drummond, owner of one of the largest brick yards in Asbury Park, and prominent in horse racing circles .1 1 T 1 e._.-. .

•ughout

*rn of John Batten, at Newport, ruck by lightning and entirely consumed. A calf, several tons of hay and feed and farming utensils were con-

sumed.

Constable William Post, of Camden, an agent of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, while attempting to kick a cat that was trying to\»tch hi* pet canary, missed the Mi- * ' ‘ his foot in the door JSmb

and crushed several ti The Second Battalion of the New Jersey Naval Reserves wiil cruise along the coast of Maine in the auxiliary cruiser Panther during the latter part of this month. Commander Potter and Lieutenant De Unger will be in charge. August Schaufwener. of Philadelphia, was committed to the Camden county jail by Justice Thompson for 20 days for fishing for bass in the lake at Grenloch with more than three hooks on his

line.

James Flynn, aged of years, of Market street, Gloucester City, was committed to the county jail, Camden, without bail by Justice George R. Thomp-' son. on the dharge of assaulting Alf rata C. Kee. aged 16. of Wilmington. Del.

He si independent company there is ' to end the strike and will sign tl if the combine does not interfen Beat KBs S«v«. Pittsburg. Pa. < Special) .—There are no indications of an. early abatement of the hot wave. The mercury at ti a. m. was 84 degrees. Eleven deaths and six serious cases of prostration have been rtnorted within 24 hours. "Volcaraei 'Active. Managua. Nicaragua (By Cable).— The, Democracia, of this city, reports that the volcanoes of Mind Valle and Ribband Vicja. in Coata Rica, situated, respectively. 80 and 60 miles soul’ of Lake Nicaraguc, are in active lion.

Former Arkansas ultlor's Sal cite.

Little Rock. Ark. (Special).—Col. J. N. Smithee., fonnerl> editor of the Arkansas Gazette, now a citizen of Denver. Cot., was (pond dead in bed at the Merchants' Hotel here. He had shot'

himself with a ptstpl.