MAGAZINE EXTRACTS.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2584, 15 May 1911, Page 3

MAGAZIN E EXTRACTS.

A German chemist has discovered that o) boiling sawdn-,i with h) drochloric acid, j.rajv is Imnui. The liquor is fer ri'cnttil and ilitn distilled, From gcwts. 0, sawdust about 6 gallons of proof spirits were obtained

Api-les ai.e the Year Round. — This fruit, says a Home contemporary, is to be found on sale in English shops all the year round. And the reason is easily given. No i.-.wni than um hundred and twenty thousand cases of apples have been shipped to the Thames from Tasmania, at the other side of the world, where their summer is our winter This, too, is in addition to a very large quantity that arrived in London from New Zealand and Sydney With the surplus front onr own orchards, and ‘hose from gardens in miter countries, apples will scarcely ever be out of season. And it is Well, for vegetarians declare that apples and hie vVM ah ,ha.‘ is required foi human suctvi.ru.se. The Lord oe Rerout-ey.—Julia Cart in. in the ,• ii/i'unie of Art, tells the ■ o' the romantic marriage of the Lord hley, the subject of Tennyson's "In the year 1791, Henry man of seven or eight and .< „ and betr of the Earl 0/ it. Lord Bttrghley of those days, .ue in the quiet village of Bolas, on mks ol the River Teru, in a remote lof bhtupshirc While young he had cm leu into a marriage which had proved nhappy, and when he came to Shropshire had recently divorced his wife. In a melancholy mood he resolved to hide himself from the world, and, concealing his birth and rank, heassumed the name of Jones and the profession of a travelling artist, and lodged during some months in the house of a larmer named Thomas Hoggins Here he (el! 111 love with the Jatrner's lair young daughter, Sarah, and, with her parents' consent, made her his wile The names of the contracting parlies may still be read in the parish register ol the Shropshire village, where the wedding took place on the 3rd October. 1791 Upon his uncle s death, a •a: ’-alterwuls Mi Cecil succeeded to the m ■ and, without idling his secret, he V- ’ ;iu Ins bride home to Hurghley, where she learnt it for the first time

A Rival to ihe Hai.pu'ES - Perhaps the most peculiar ol Turkish musical instruments is Uiai known as Mohammed's Stan dard, which cousins ol a brass frame with numerous bells, on itio lop ol a long pole I surmounted by the orescent and streamers j of horse hair, li figures in Janissary or I military bands, in conceit with various I chums great ami small, trumpets, horns, and cymbals, winch produce noise enough to pul any foe to Ibghi That such a triumph has been obtained by our own beloved .iium,;l music (remarks C hj Gordon mmimi;- m l:l,n kwond) we are all aware, ■", ti'.a m "Hled m one «1 our favourite ■ .1 --ri; baliatl.j how

(Mm ;,«■ red and sae deep ,ti i i.uu'i die braveladr.-eep ;i:,.i u.iin owe. lo lell Knglisb

ii mill. i.n.iiil ihi.MiM ues itry to the pibroch's Miulid ■ mull. I d tliu Imij;I!:.Ii saw. they saw—- '. niiiulei iltht) nciuililitljlciw, iheblaw; , iiuiiuiiiiilci U tin y .v id.it &\\a , awa',

, jiii me htmUitU pqtcia an' a', an' a' 1 am quilt; Mire Uiai no Bout hi on will for & moment question the veiutily of this incident ! Even a single stand of pipes lias done rigid good set vice lu pulling to flight the most savage of lues, as when, in the Peninsular war, a solitary piper somehow found himself separated from his regiment, and in Imminent peril Itoma whole pack of hungry wolves With Use calmness of desperation he blew up his chattier, and what was his joy when, at the Jnst skirl of the pipes, the whole puck turned tail and Jltd I Captures Bkiohs —Traces of the primitive custom ol capture, says a writer •n an old number ol Blackwood,' are observable m the marriages ol the Miao tribes m Souiit Western China. The women of one tube, without waiting for the attack, uiinulattd or otherwise, of their wooers, gc through the wedding ceremonies, such as they ;ne, with dishevelled hair and nakeo Ret uiiici blanches of the same people dispense with every iorm of marriage rtlt Wall the return ol each spring the mar riageabie lads and lasses erect a “ devil's stall," or May pole, decked with ribbons and flowers and dance around it lo the tune ol the men s c astanets Choice is made by lha young men ol the particular maids who take iheir fancy, and, if these reciprocate llic admiration ol their wooers, ihe pairstraj oh to the neighbouring hills and valleys lot :he enjoyment ol a short honeymoon, aftei uhich the itusbands seek out their brides' p unil-, and agree as to the amount in kind which they shall pay them as compensation 1,,, the loss ol their daughters Among other clans the young people repair to the hillsides in the " leaping month," and play at catch with coloured balls adorned with long strings The act ol lying two balls together, with the consent of the owners of both, is considered a sufficient preliminary for the vnne kind of al fresco marriage as that jusl described In the province of Kwang-se a kind of official sanction is given to those • poiitaneons alliances The young men and women of the neighbouring aboriginal tribes assemble on a given day in the courtyards it the prefects' yamuns, and seat themselves the ground, the men on one side of the yards and the women on the other. As his inclination suggests, each young man crosses aver and seats himself by the lady of his , i, () ice Me then, in the words of the wbinesc historian, "breathes into her mouth . >nd it tins attention ts accepted in good aart the couple pair off without more tide. ■> I,o’act thus described is probably that o) • is . ing but as that lorm of salutation is an i j rely unknown among the Chinese, the his lonan is dttveo to describe it by a circumlocution. In the province of Yunnan he tribes have adopted much of the ‘ tiinese ceremonial, though they still pie ac some of their peculiar customs, by ~ people much virtue is held to be in int ;, lK en by the bride on her \veatitn§ ,| ni , allf l in the unctuous anointment ot v dole body with rose-maloes which , (l |s the ablution, but among the hw iv, on the Burmese frontier, the relict ■puue become again conspicuous ,i„. day which is to make a Kakhyen n , al , ar,(l maiden one arrives, “ five n and girls set out from the britw*- , village to that of the bride, win t . ~. wan till nightfall in a neighbouring ,m dusk the bride is brought thither ,i P of the stranger girls, as it were, withi, grow ledge ot nor parents, and told (Lose men have come to claim her ,dl f.ct out &t once (or the bridegroom s hj. dm morning the bride is placed . t a close canopy outside the brides house Presently there arrives a ,/ young men from her village, to as they say. for one of their girls ... (,fcn stolen They are invited to , ,„i- , ihe canopy, and hidden, if they ia ke me girl away; but they reply. ■ ell let her remain where she is. practice is identical with the custom !( hj prevailed among the Maoris of New weal,mil before they learned from our country pen that there were other and more civimse «y\ ol toierinjj ibc ol matrimony. (

A LONG LAUGH. One day. when in the study of her house then almost under the shadow of West minster Abbey, Miss Harriet Martineat heard a prodigious shout of laughter on th« staircase. Presently in came Thomas Carlyle, laughing aloud. He said he had Itces laughing all the way from Charing Cross, where he had been in a printing-office. As soon as he could lie id.: the Indy whs 4. •*•*# the cause of his proLngtd laughter, i’t had been to the dike of his printers tf expedite the product ion of his” Miscellanies,' his first work published ..1 book form ir London. In this, says Miss Martincau almost every other word was altered by tbs author. The manager said to the author. *' Sir, you are really very hard on us with youi corrections; they take a deal of time." Carlyle observed that he had been M aeons' .omed to this kind bf thing, that he had got works printed at Edinburgh," Stc., &C. "’Yes, indeed, sir." interrupted the printer, "we are aware of that. We have a man here from Edinburgh and when he took up a bit of your 4 copy’ he dropped it as if it had burned his fingers, and cried out, " Lord, have mercy on ns ! Have you got that terrible man to print for ? The Lord only knows when you'll get done." Carlyle said he could not reply to this for laughing, and had been lau.,h:ng ever since LOVE IN HATE. 44 You had better come to me this bummer," Aunt Ryder had written to me; " and we will talk over you. plans together. I do not like you to live alone.” Alone! That was the nnrd in the letter that struck like ice upon my sore heart. 1 was utterly alone ! Even Aunt Ryder was my uncle’s widow, not really related to me, though Elsie and I both loved her. Elsie was my step-sister, my second mother since my own diet! in my infancy, my teacher, friend, companion and comforter. And Elsie was dead.

She was thirty-seven when she died. Wasting away slowly, 1 thought of .10 danger till it was too late.

But I accepted Aunt Ryder's invitation, and was preparing to visit her for tire sum* mer, when 1 found the key note to Elsie's life, her diary. I read it. I am not going to quote it here, but far back upon the yellow pares I read how my sister gave her heart years before to one Rodney Wallace; how they had exchanged vows and rings, and/r wedding day was set, and he left her to prepare a home in the city for his bride, and never returned. I burned the diary, because upon one ot the pages Elsie had begged I would if ever 1 read it.

Then I finished my packing, and went to my Aunt Ryder. She was the widow of my mother’s brother, and our grandfather's estate was divided now between herself and me. It was all mine after Elsie died. And I was an heiress in a small way, having the income of /io.ooo at my command. Aunt Ryder took me to Brighton, and insisted on my wearing thin, light, black dresses and white lace. All my energies seemed numbed by Elsie’s death. We had been but a few days ru Brighton, when Aunt Ryder, who is a hancl.-vue, sprightly woman, admired in society, met sokss Tiend she had known in Paris, where she had lived many years. She war. quite excited over this meeting and insisted upon having a luncheon party at our cottage. " Do try to brighten up a liitia, Rhoda, for one of my pets will be here 1" “ And who is she ?" I asked, being acctis* Mned to seeing Aunt Ryder pet everybody. • This time it is he. He came to Paris some eighteen years ago, and your uncle was very intimate with him. They were both artists and had a mutual adtni ratio* for each other's works. I have not seen him since I left Paris-nine—ten years ago," “Docs he happen to have anything: M convenient as a name ?" I asked. •“Oh, yes, Rodney Wallace. He paiirtfa that portrait of mine over the piano at home, with ‘ R. W.' in one corner P’ 1 Not an hour later, black dress, white roses, ghastly face and all, I was presented to a tall, grave man, with iron-grey hair and soft brown eyes, the very reverse of the gay Lothario I had pictured as the roau who had “ loved and rode away." I was voung, romantic, and I hated this grave, sad man with all the impetuosity of my youth and romance, and yet lu awed me from the first. There van a grave patience about him that reminded me of Elsie. And it was lo mo, to me who so hated him, that he turned tor companionship all through that long summer time. And I, little by little, learned a lesson 1 had not dreaded when near him. How could I love when 1 hat ml ? 1 low c mild my heart be won by my sister s mnrJ- .'cr ? So the dying’days of Aim* lon ml me, not brightened or benefited by my sojourn at Brighton, but pale, listless, w -tchecl, tortured by my fidelity to the de id. my love and hate for the living. One resolve I made. I would never marry Rodney Wallace. Yet when he wrote to me, a manly, straightforward letter, asking my love, it cost me hours of wildest weening to mov« my heart to refuse him When I tried to nerve mv«elf to «?nd away the fatal letter I heard stops in tlw drawing-room, and then Aunt Ryder spoke’ “ Koddey," she said in a tender voice, as if she were speaking to her own son, “ yoli have made me very happy. I hoped this would happen when 1 introduced you to Elsie’s sister." “ Elsie’s sister!" Rodney cried, harshly, as I had never heard him speak before. «• Hush I Elsie was not false." “ Not false ! Was she not my hetroflwl. almost my bride. Did I not love her with dl the strength of my heart ? She broke my heart, she desolated my life I And now —now you tell me the woman I love, as I never hope to love again, is Elsie's sister I" Mv heart throbbed almost suifocatingny t my brain reeled : the room seemed to grow black and rock around me. But I heard Unit Ryder speak. " Rodney, in those days in Paris when I mew but little of your story, I never dreamed hat it was Elsie you loved." “ But the truth ?" Rodney replied, "what vas the truth ?" “ Elsie did not write that letter Elsie lied, believing yon false to h?r. She \vm her mother's heiress. Rodney, and h«f nother married a villain. _ Were Elsit named, and his own child still a mere baby, the home must be broken up, tb* nonev held in your control and that of (t<s ruslees, and so a forged Iclte, was seal t®

you." “ Does-s.be know ?" "No one knows but me, m one! My husband was with Elsie s step-father when tie died and heard this confession, too Um to remedy the evil." "And—Rhoda?" “ Rhoda was so young she prohvrfy never heard of Elsa's engagement, Rodney. Promise me you will never tell har. Iv*metnber that Bayard Woolsfcn, fortune hunter, forger as he was—was yet her father. I stole softly upstairs. Over my empty, -rate 1 burned my false, cruel letter, vowinf in my utmost heart to bo Rodney’* trut comforter and wife. - It is two years since we were married. \ll the shadows are gone from my husband’d face, and lie tells me hi* picture* are p*iat«4 ' ’ ’■