aloud as he wielded the stick. The prisoner howled and cried for mercy, tears running down his brown cheeks, for though the beating does not break the skin, it is extremely painful,. As the last stroke fell, he jumped up with a yell, and raa out of the room. Stern Chinese Justice was satisfied. I remarked to a friend, "Not much use now of appealing to a higher court." For a greater crime the penalty is to wear a cangue, besides a certain number of strokes with a bamboo. The cangue is a large square board that fits about the neck and besides being very heavy and uncomfortable, is considered a great disgrace. Sometimes three men are locked together and turned loose in the streets while their names are paint ed in big black characters on the board. This is a terrible punishment for the Chinese, publicly "shamed" and laughed at by their friends. We also saw three women locked in the cangue, but this is a rare occurrence. These laws may seem extra cruel ones, to enforce but may be necessary. The Chinese Cities are so thickly populated, the petty crimes are so many that were the convicted prisoners put in State Prisons, fed, clothed, and well taken care of, it would be a "picnic," and there would not be enough jails to hold them. We were extended an invitation to return again and witness other modes of punishment inflicted on the poor creatures. It was respectfully declined. July. Josephine Spencer. Treading a measure-like a minuet Poppies and musk are wreathed amid her hair; A horn of fruit swings from her careless hold, Before her tread ripple the crested fields Lined purple caves where miser Ocean shields His gray shelled hoards where priceless jewels fret. Goddess of Plenty! Matron of the Year! When thy full-lidded moons look down on thee No wraith of shapeless Hope nor Failure sere But emblem of Fulfillment they shall see! A Crumpled Romance. Gordon Whitney. I recently attended a Catholic Church in one of the lesser towns of a western Canadian Province, where I was an interested spectator of a service I had not seen in many years. The building was not a pretentious one; it was small and plain and was scrupulously clean. The windows were of stained glass each bearing an image of a Catholic saint. The walls were hung with pictures of varying size, representative of the life, sufferings, and death of the Christ. The altar was most ornate and gleamed with silver candlesticks bearing lighted tapers; there was a profusion of vases filled with artificial flowers, while large painted panels flanked the immediate center where hung a splendid ivory crucifix, silver flowers and paintings being arranged as a rich fringe for the simple center. The priest splendidly dressed in almost barbaric vestments stalked solemnly through the ritualistic formalities of swinging censers, bowing before the crucifix, sprinkling the congregation with holy water and chanting the prayers. A nun seated next to me courteously handed me a copy of the service in Latin and English. Unable to follow the alternate singing of the priest and the choir, I looked at the cards of prayers in English and French I found scattered through the book, some of them being for souls in purgatory, supplemented by appeals to different saints. a blank line indicating the insertion of the name of one's particular saint; there were also clip pings from papers, among them being a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox and sentiments of different philosophers and poets, all of a religious character. The nun herself was clad wholly in black, not even permitting herself a bit of white at the throat, as is sometimes the case, to relieve the dismalness of her costume. On her head she wore a stiff black bonnet which encased her face as though it were set in the muzzle of a cannon. The priest preached a short sermon on marriage as a sacrament, giving at the same time a set of cast iron instructions for the regulation of engagements, with the purpose in view of making marriage less of a failure than is disclosed in the chronicles of the divorce courts. He spoke simply in broken. English on the theme that the children of God should "increase and multiply and replenish the Earth," and with what mutuality each party to the contract should discharge its sacred obligations. As he proceeded with his effective appeal many women in the congregation covertly wiped their eyes, and by settling back in my seat I could note its visible and my courteous nun. I fell to musing. In fancy I saw her in a far away French village with its quaint streets and stirring effect on houses shaded by trees time worn and overhanging. I saw the simple market place, with its drinking fountain surmounted by a moss grown stone cross. I saw the girl with tear filled eyes watching her peasant lover as he followed the recruiting sergeant across forest and field to a nearby fortified town, where discipline fitted him for the ranks which were rushed to the front to repel the invading Germans who threatened the Empire. Bazaine had surrendered Metz, the ill fated Napoleon III with the faithful Mac Mahon was defending Sedan, Paris was the center of an ever narrowing circle of hot throated cannon and glistening bayonets, and there in the mire of a deserted redoubt with his mute and ashen face turned toward the sky, lay the nuns stark lover and here beneath her black vestments lay her broken heart, while she waited. with saintly with saintly patience for that union beyond the grave she had been denied on earth. All this I saw in her suffused eyes and nervously twitching hands and I pitied her sorrowing retrospection. The service concluded, the older part of the congregation left the building while the children were held in their places by the somber, but now composed sister. I inquired why the children were kept, and she replied "tis to be feared they'll muss the ladies' dresses and so we kape thim 'til the last." The woman was Irish. and my crumpled French romance fell to earth like a balloon shot to pieces with shrapnel. The Seasons. Harold Goff. There's the fragrance of bloom in the orchard, And a robin sings cheerily near, There's the thrill and the rapture of springtime, It is June, best of months in the year; In my heart is the chill of December, You will come to me, dear, in December, But your smile will be brighter than sunshine, And thougn the fierce storms may be raging, My heart will singing, " 'Tis June!" GIRL QUERIES. Conducted by Catherine Hurst. Address all communications in this department to Question Box, In answer to a "Young Mother," I will say, by all means teach your little girls to be just as polite to Papa and Mama as to strangers. Kindness and courtesy in the home are as necessary as out of it. Will you please give me a simple lotion for the complexion. I live where the wind blows a great deal and my face is much tanned.-Rosebud. I think the following will help you: Apply two or three times a day, stand over night. Next morning add eight ounces of the cucumber juice, half ounce oil of sweet almonds and fifteen drops tincture of benzoin. Pour oil in slowly, shaking the bottle well. Keep in cool place, and apply twice a day with cloth or sponge. Use a great deal of fruit and milk in your diet, drink freely of pure water, keep the bowels well regulated and you ought to be fortunate in having a good complexion. When drinking milk a less quantity of other food is required. What will remove paint from clothing?-Lydia. If fresh paint turpentine will completely remove it. If it has been on for some time difficulty will be experienced in getting it all off, although turpentine will do some good. Please give me a scientific way of cooking beef steak and mutton chops (not fried).-Midge. Broiling is very good, or cooking in the oven. If cooked in the oven try the following way for beef-steak. Place steak in a pan, sprinkle with salt, pepper, and some bread crumbs, and any herbs you like best, such as sage, parsley, thyme, summer savory, etc. Put two or three pieces of butter on top and cook about half an hour. Have oven hot to begin cooking. Can you give me names of pieces of instrumental music suitable to play in Mutual. (Organ and piano selections).-Cora. Much depends on how advanced the pupil is. Perhaps the following will be of assistance to you: Godard. Love Song (out of sketch book) Nevin. Simple Aveu Under the Leaves The old Folks Dance .Albert Jeffery. .LLack. Thome. .Thome. .Godard. Beaumont. .Tichner. .Egghard. .Nevin. ..Rogers. .G. Backman. Ducelle. .Kirchner. .G. C. Blake. OUR GIRLS. The Journey to the Promised Land. Grace McDonald.* women The Mormon camp at Winter Quarters was early astir. Men were repairing their wagons, were watching and wishing-tomorrow began the long journey toward the Promised Land. In the company first ready to depart was Janie Moss whose broad accent told one that she came from the south of England. How anxiously she had waited for the company to be off for she longed to go where her thoughts had gone three years before. But she brightened up as the expectations of her new life with Jimmy Browning soothed. her aching heart. They would not be long in crossing the plains for the joys to come would take the pain away. It seemed to Janie that the parting good-byes were so long. Soon, however, after the sun had arisen, the company began to move. The tears that were forced back by nearly everyone made Janie feel glad that she was going to her home, not leaving it. So she made up her mind to help others and do all she could to aid them. Day after day they diligently traveled along, hiding their sorrows and showing their abundant joys. The first part of the journey. was quite exciting for they crossed the Missouri river thirteen times for the sake of getting green feed for their cattle. All the women and children who were able, walked *Granite Stake. behind the long row of wagons. They chatted merrily about various things, but they did not interest Janie. She would steal away, gather pansies, and put them in her locket for "pansies are for thoughts," you know. Not one of the company guessed the thoughts that were hid under Janie's sweet face. On the other hand everybody was pleased to have her near them for she played with the children and she seemed to be ready to help whenever there was anything to be done. As the company emerged from the grassy plains and started over the steep mountains, new and varying scenes awaited them, enlivened now and then by the appearance of some strange and unknown animal. One day it was a buffalo herd passing over the plains. The next day it was some Indian warriors. The trip through the mountains, delightful as it was, had its accompanying dangers. Mountain fever, dreaded by the tired emigrants, broke out in camp. Janie Moss, whose health grew poorer day after day, was the first victim to be taken to her bed. |