214 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



July 



'*Tliink what:" said Hugh idly, with- 

 out lonldug at her. 



"That it is uot A'ery uice or pleasant 

 for me to be staying in Alan's home, 

 when I have — betrayed him?" sheended 

 bravely. 



"I don't see what else you can do," 

 retorted Hugh lazily, "unless you go 

 back to your aunt's. " 



The irirl crimsoned to her brow. 

 • "Couldn't we be married now?"' she 

 whispered in sliamed tones. 



He looked at her sharply, then replied: 

 "Look here, Elsie, it is best to be 

 straightforward, so we may as well end 

 this farce at once. I am engaged to my 

 cousin Marian, and we are to be mar- 

 ried ]]ext month. " 



There was a long silence. Up in the 

 bright blue heavens a bird was caroling 

 merrily, and in a strange, mechanical 

 manner Elsie counted five daisies which 

 were in a cluster at her feet. Then she 

 spoke: 



"So you just used me as a tool, 

 Hugh?" 



"Yes," he acquiesced shamefacedly. 



She laughed — a strange, hard laugla. 



"It does not hurt very much after all 

 —not very much," she repeated pite- 

 ously, and then without another word 

 turned and left him. 



When Alan Demaine reached home 

 that night, his mother and sisters met 

 him with the news that Elsie had been 

 suddenly summoned to meet her aunt. 

 "Though when she got the letter I'm 

 sure I don't know," added Enid suspi- 

 ciously. Her brother made no reply, but 

 went straight to his own room, and 

 there, on the toilet table, lay a tear 

 stained note. 



"I have been a wicked, deceitful 

 girl," the letter ran, "and now the 

 greatest punishment I have to bear is 

 the knowledge that I have brought ruin 

 upon you." Then followed an explana- 

 tion concerning her curiosity about the 

 dye, and the note ended with a plea for 

 forgiveness. 



In reply Alan wrote as follows: "My 

 forgiveness you have fully and freely, 

 and I sincerely wish you every happi- 

 ness in the future. You must not dis- 

 tress yourself about 'ruining me, ' as 

 the 'secret' (?) which I told you con- 

 cerning the purple dye is no secret at 

 all, but a very ordinary chemical prep- 

 aration well known in the trade. For- 



give me for deceiving you. 1 overheard 

 j-our conversation with the scamp who 

 tised you as his tool, and I could not re- 

 jist my little piece of revenge. The De- 

 maine dye is a secret still, so you may 

 **ase fretting about that. My mother, 

 who knows nothing, sends you her love. 

 In a day or two I shall simply tell her 

 that the engagement is dissolved." 



Three momhs after the dispatch of 

 this Jetter Alan's manager ceased from 

 troubling, for the new firm failed irre- 

 trievably. 



"Hang it all!" said Hugh to his con- 

 fidential assistant. "We have ^ot the 

 correct ingredients, man. It must be in 

 the mixing that we fail." 



And when his sneech found its way 

 to Alan's ears he simply laughed. "It 

 was Delilah who failed," he said to 

 himself, "not the mixing." And then, 

 with a new, gl;,d hope springing in his 

 heart, he joined his sisters and his sis- 

 ters' friend Monica in the drawing 

 room. — London Sun. 



A Bad Sign. 



A W^elsh county court judge recently 

 had before him a case in which a printer 

 sued a pork butcher for the value of a 

 large parcel of paper bags with the lat 

 ter's advertisement printed thereon 

 The printer, having no suitable illustra- 

 tion to embellish the work, thought he ^ 

 improved the occasion by putting an \ 

 elaborate royal arms above the man's 

 name and address, but ultimately the 

 latter refused to pay. 



The judge, looking over a specimen, 

 observed that for his part he thought 

 the lion and unicorn were much nicer 

 than an old fat pig. 



"Oh, well," answered the butcher, 

 "perhaps your honor likes to eat ani- 

 mals like that, but my customers don't. 

 I don't kill lions and unicorns. I only 

 kill fat pigs. ' ' 



Verdict for defendant. — London An- 

 weris. 



At the beginning of this century 

 there were 31,4oU,000 persons in the 

 W'Mld using French as a spoken lan- 

 guage, and in 1890 the number had in- 

 creased to 51,2UU,00U. 



Every president of the United States 

 has been either a lawyer or a soldier or 

 both. 



