THE WOMAN AND THE LAW.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2145, 21 March 1908, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE WOMAN AND THE LAW.

(By Margaret Cameron.) Carmody stood in tho doorway, hat , in hand, while Lusia, his wife, limply loaning against tho wall, surveyed him across a chaos of open trunks and bags, empty trays, and piles of scattered raiment. “That’s the honest way. isn’t it?” ho asked.

“Its the quixotic way,” she retorted. “Nobody else does it-- It isn’t as if wo were importing tilings for sale, Bruce. They’re just for ourselves—well, ourselves and one or two friends, then. Anyway, we’re not going to make any profit on them, or anything like that, so—why should we pay the silly duties?” .“Because it happens to be the law of our country that if these things are imported they should be taxed. “It’s a stupid law!” “Nevertheless,” gravely, “it iis the law, and as good citizens—” “Well, I’m not a good citizen! In fact I’m not a citizen at all; I’m a woman. You needn’t look so solemn, either! You’re tremendously proud of that stiff necked old ancestor of yours who helped dump the tea into Boston Harbor, and you ought to bo glad that I, at least, am going to live up to the family traditions and rebel against tyranny and oppression.” “Then I’m to understand,” —he closed the door again, and picked his way, between the chairs top-heavy and over piles of cardboard boxes and underwear, to her side,—“l’m to understand tliat you intend to cast your silks and laces into the waters of the Narrows ?” “Not I! I don’t know why you should infer anything so silly l” “If the colonists don’t pay the tax, you must not forget that neither did they use the tea.” “Oh—well— maybe they dfdn’t, but that’s another story!” “No, wife of mine, it’s the same story. No tax, no tea, —and no trinkets. You pays your money and you takes your choice. Now, I’m perfectly willing to pay the money, but I do not choose that either you or I shall become a lawbreaker and go slinking home with our petty illicitpossessions, just to save a few dollars'.’-h. “Oh, it isn’t that! I don’t care so"""' much about the money! It’s the principle of the thing I It’s stupid and silly—and tyrannical 1 A law like that is simply a 'dare’ to any normal person, and I’d like to break it-, just to prove I could !” “Well please don’t!” He smiled amusedly at her, abandoning argument. “Promise you won’t—for my Bake?”

“Oh, of course if you are going to take that ground!” She laughed a little as she ruefully admitted her defeat. “What is it I’m to promise?”' ?

“That all the dutiable stuff in the trunks is to be packed together listed.”

“Yes, sir.” He laughed but continued: '“And you’re not to conceal anything about your dres6 or in your bag.” “We’eH. But Ido it under duressl l don’t like it ! I protest against the law and the observance of it!” . “All right, little rebel; protest all you like, —but remember your promise.”

He kissed her lightly and left her to the long task of packing, when he returned some hours later, all the trunks were closed except one, before which she crouched, laboriously scribbling on her knee. “Almost through, dear?” “All but this miserable list. Suppose you write while I pack? It’s so confusing to stop one to do the other. Then we’ll be sure to get everything down—and incidentally, I’ll finish much sooner.”

So it was that they made the list together; and in the rediscovery of many things that he had forgotten buying, Bruce failed to note the absence of certain feminine adornments, filmy spoils of Brussels, Bruges, and Venice, in which his interest had been but vicarious at heft. Nor was his attention arrested by the subdued but persistent twinkle in his wife’s eye, a roguish gleam that recurred at frequent intervals during their breezy homeward voyage, as she lay in her chair and watched his overcoated figure vigorously tramping the decks. When they landed in New York, one golden September morning, they were rapturously welcomed by Cecily Bradford, whose guests they were to be until their own house, closed during the year of their absence, should be ready for occupancy. “Otis is desolated not to be hero on the dock to meet you,” she assured them, “but he said it Vvas simply impossible for him to get away to-day. And ho wants you to go directly to the office, Bruce, just as straight as you can march.” “What for?” demanded Carmody. “Oh, I don’t know. Something about a man from San Francisco, whom it is most important that you should see before ho leaves for the

West this afternoon. Otis ’phoned me that the steamer was sighted, and said that you were not even to take time to go up to the house with us.” “What a bore! This is New York all right!”’ he exclaimed. “They don’t give a man time to wash tho salt off his face before they begin to unload business on him! Well—l suppose I’m in for it! There’s no reason, then, why you girls shouldn’t go right home. I’ll attend to the trunks before I go off to the treadmill, anyhow.”

“Thanks: I’d rather wait,” objected his wife. “If they happen to take a fancy to pull everything out and limit for false bottoms or dynamite bombs or the crown or jewels or something, I prefer to do the repacking myself 1” “A 1 right. Get into a carriage,

then, and if there’s any trouble I’ll come for you; but there won’t be. You haven't anything dutiable about you, Lucia?” Ho smiled into her eyes and she laughed back: “Not a thing.” Hie women, chattering disconnectedly, ns do close friends in the first moments of reunion after a long separation, had given no thought- to the time of his absence when ho.rejoined them, cheerfully smiling. “All serene!” he remarked. “No

trouble, at all. Very decent chap, . ."■rthat inspector. Hero aro tho keys. / 'You tako tho steamer trunk and ono of the othors up with you on tho carriage— hem’s tho porter with them now, and I’ll send tho rest latex. Good-by. Oh! I’m not likely to need an ovorcoat, am I, Cicely? “Morey, no I It’s been positively hot for a week!” “Then I’ll sond this along with you. It won’t bo in your way, will it?” Ho tossed tho coat upon tho bags piled Q» the seat in front of them, and they nodded brightly to him from tho opon carriage as they drove away. They wero jogging along in tho >. comparative quiet of Vest End Avenbefore thero was even tho briefest lull in their brisk chat. In that instant Lucia’s glance happened to fall observantly upon her husband’s coat, from a pocket of which still protruded tho soiled and dog eared ends of a number of European railway folders, and she laughed gleefully, exclaiming : “Oh, I have such a joko on Bruce! Tho only drawback is that I shan’t ' dare to tell him about it for ten years or so—if Ido even then.” “Europe seems to have had a meokoning effect upon you,” dryly commented her friend.

“H’m—well—l always did stand in awo of his principles, you know.” “Tho inference being that the rest of us haven’t any?” “Oh, of course everybody has principles, more or less. The disconcerting thing about Bruce is that ho lives up to his.”

“And makes you?” “At any rate, ho does his best. Angels could do no more! This is a case in point. You remember that, amongst other things, ho is truly patriotic? Ho respects law simply because it is law, quite regardless of whether it has tho slightest basis of common - sense or not.”

“I have a vivid recollection of his making me miss a train once,” responded Cecily. “Wo could have made it if there hadn’t been a bridge to cross. The sign said ‘Walk your horses’—and he did I I argued and begged and .raved and all but wept—but 4rfeo horse walked I” “Precisely. That’s Bruce. Therefore, he decreed, while I was packing in London, that we should ‘pass tho customs honestly.’ You know what that would mean with him. Full duty on every single thing.” “Now I call that distinctly unfair!” warmly protested Mrs Bradford. It’s not only wanton extravagance, but it takes away half the fun Of bringing things home 1” “That’s what I told him. Moreover, it’s a weak yielding to tyranny and brute force. All of which weighed not one pennyweight with Bruce when the law said we should pay. In the end he made me promise solemnly that.-Pd-declaro every dutiable thing myself.” “Alas and alack!” mournfully.' “You didn’t have any fun at all, did you?” “Didn’t I though!” crisply retorted Mrs Carmody. “Wait until I show you I” She leaned forward and took possession of a handful of railway time-tables. “These came into port in Bruce’s overcoat pocket—Bruce’6, mind you! Observe!” There was not enough breeze to stir the languid and ageing leaves of the trees bordering the avenue, and unable longer to resist the de-

to her roguish triumph, fid open in her lap one of tho >r6ad sheets, disclosing an interlining if exquisite lace. “O-o-oh!” broke so sharply from Cecily that the cabman lifted slightly in his seat that he might steal a glance at his passengers. What he saw brought a shrewd. gleam to his eye, and he promptly turned an attentive ear in their direction, with "results entirely satisfactory to himself. Mrs Bradford’s voice, a low vibrant contralto of wonderful carrying power, and Lucia’s perfect enunciation ; made eavesdropping easy.

“Lucia—Hobart—Carmody!” Tho man winked genially at himself as he marked tho name. “You little imp! How dared you? How dared you?”

“My dear,” said her friend, dimpling complacently, “aside from h.'.s principles. Bruce is a perfectly normal man. And who has ever heard of a man who would voluntarily—or even willingly— destroy a railway folder, no matter how old and tattered and antedated it might be?” Mrs Bradford nodded. “Our library table drawer is full of them, and every month or so Otis brings home a few more and asks me to ‘keep them somewhere.’ He’s always sure lie’s going to need them, but when he does he gets new ones.”

“And brings thorn home!” “Of course. But even so it was an awful risk!”

“There wasn't any risk at all,” laughed Lucia. “That’s the beauty of it. There never was anything so safel” “And do you mean to tell me that all these folders are—?” Cecily paused, fingering them enquiringly. “Every one, my dear, —eight of them—full of lace. And such lace!” Just here the drivers of two passing grocers', waggons were engaged in a noisy-v'altercation, and the cabman lost her concluding sentences, “Of course I didn’t get it all for myself. Some of it is Aunt Bertha’s and some of it is Sue’s.” “And you paid no duties on any of it?” Mrs Bradford was asking when again the man caught the thread. “Not one cent! We declared eyerything else—every single thing, down to the smallest detail. Wo made a most careful list, but sornehow”—the twinkle in her eye might have been inferred from her droll little inflection—“these, got—overlooked.” “Well I call that genius!” enthusiastically declared Cecily. “Sheer iue! Mercy, here wo are at homo! 1 1 wasn’t paying the slightest attention. Fold it up again, Lucia.” “Wait a minute,” said Mrs Carmody to the driver, as he was about to lift out tlio overcoat and bags. I’ll tuck these things in there for tho present.” She hastily .slipped tho folders again into the yawning pocket, handed the coat to tho maid who had come out for the wraps, and buoyantly followed her hostess into the house, where their .rapid, drifting chat was immediately resumed. Nor did tho possibility occur to either of them that the unconsidered caiman—an honest fellow and father of aVumerous and hungry progeny—migVXLthriftily betake himself in persuit wLa 'reward offered by ;i solicitouasgoyernment to those worthy and patriotic persons reporting violations of the customs laws. Once during the morning, as they *at on tho bed beside,a half empty trunk-tray, Lucia asked : 1 ‘Where is Bruce’s overcoat?”

“Down-stairs in tho hall, probably,—on tho rack. Shall I have it brought up?” “No; never mind now. But don’t, let mo forget to bring those folders up after lunch.” It was nearly four o’clock when she again exclaimed: “My land! I must gob those folders 1” “Tho'ro perfectly safe,” said Cecily. “Oh, of courso; But if I don’t tako tho lneo out before night, Bruce will bo seized with a desire to show Otis a map or a time-table or something, and then pussy will be out of tho bag!” At that moment a maid appeared at the door. “There’s a gontleman down-stairs to see Mrs Carmody,” she announced. “To see me?” questioned Lucia. “But nobody knows I am horol” “Didn’t he send up a card?” asked Mrs Bradford. “No ma’am. lie says ho has come on business.” “Business! Oh, ft must b® somoono to see Bruce,” easily assumed Lucia. “Ho asked especially for Mrs Carmody, ma’am.” “This is most mystifying 1 Certainly, no ono has any business with mo. Como down with mo, Cecily: let’s eeo what lie wants.” They decended to tho reception room together and found a strange man standing near tho window. Ho was a prosperous-looking person, alert and well brushed, and bowed courteously to them. “Good afternoon,” said Lucia. “You wished to see mo?” “You are Mrs Carmody?” ho asked, pleasantly. “Lucy Carmody?” “Isn’t thero some mistako?” she suggested. “My namo is Lucia.” Then she saw that in his hand ho held, a little behind him, so that at first she had not preceived it, a a package of shabby familiar papers,

and demanded, somewhat sharply: “What aro you doing with those folders?” “Oh—these?” He .regarded them thoughtfully, turning them over in his hands. “Why—l found them here somewhere and—they interested me, so I picked them up. Aro they yours?” “Yes, they’re mine. Give them to me please.”

.tie nancieci tnom to Her very civilly only commenting: “They’re all European folders, aren’t they?” “Yes.” As she took them she pressed them slightly to assure herself that they were still thick with lace, and ho watched her. “You arrived on the “Rubric” this morning, didn’t you?” The quiet courtesy of his manner and his willingness to relinquish the folders made his possession of them the more unaccountable. The supposition that he had meant to steal them seemed altogether untenable, and both women were puzzled, uncertain how to take this mail, whose dignity was as apparent as his conduct was inexplicable. “You brought them—just that way?” “Ye —Why? What do you mean?” “Mrs Carmody, those folders are full of Jape.” “Oh—are they 7 ? Well Pwhat of it ?” Blank surprise gave way to a palpitating sense of danger, and she fluttered helplessly. “How do you know they are?” “I know, because I have examined them.” “What does this mean?” now demanded Cecily, wrath gleaming in her eye. “Who are you? By what right do you presume to enter my house and examine papers you chance to see?”

“By right bf a search warrant, madam.” “A search—warrant 1”

“I’m a deputy United States marshal, I have received information that one Lucy— or Lucia, you say— Carmody, arriving this morning by the ‘Rubric,’ has unlawfully .imported into the United States eight packages of lace, wrapped in railway folders, and has wilfully evaded the payment of legal duties thereon. Here are the folders—” “Where did you get them?” The inquiry was Cecily’s; Lucia had apparently lost the power of speaeh. “I saw them sticking out of a pocket of an overcoat this morning, I examined them. Here, as I said are tho folders. Mrs Carmody has admitted in your presence that she brought them from Europe, and therefore it will be my duty to confiscate the goods and place her under arrest.” 4 I “Wha—what do you mean?” Lucia | faltered, the one -idea clear in her 1 mind being that she must not let him see, that she was frightened. “You’re not—not going to—arrest—me !” “Yes,” quietly. “Oh! oh!” For a moment she closed her eyes on tho reeling world and

covered them with her hands. “This— why this is perfectly absurd!” cried Cecily, again to the front. “You’ve simply put your own interpretation on the fact that those laces were wrapped in the folders! You simply assume that duties were not paid! You have no right whatever—” She paused , cheeked by the peculiar penetration of his gaze. “Madame,” said he, succinctly, “affidavit lias been made that certain laces were smuggled into this country this morning by Mrs Carmody. We have a sworn statement that Mrs Carmody declared she had

paid full duty on everything she brought in except the laces. Therefore I came out hero specially to find the laces —and I found them. I have no desire to make things unpleasant for you. But I have here” —significantly tapping a paper he held —“a warrant that will enable me to go through your house from garret to cellar, and if I have the slightest reason to suspect that you are deliberately trying to protect her, or to conceal smuggled goods, or that you either of you —aro trifling furthor with the law in this matter, I’ll have tho house—and you—searched—very thoroughly.” “Oh!” said Cecily, in quite a- different tone. “Oh, I wish my husband was here!” “So do I,” said the marshal. “What”—Lucia, staring at him uncertainly, put her hands to her throat as it to ease its aching—“what are you going to—do —with me?” “You’re not going to take her —! began Cecily, and stopped. “It will be necessary for her to go before the Commissioner at once,” explained the deputy. “We’ll make that as easy as we can. I have a carriage at the door, and—you may go with her, if you like,” “And —then?” “The Commissioner will decide. If he finds tho evidence sufficient to warrant holding her;, he’ll fix bail—” “Then there is a chance—” exclaimed Cecily, and again stopped, impressed by his smile and by his

| slight negative gesture. “Hardly. These are protty flefinito.” Ho Indicated the folders. “But I didn’t smugglo thorn 1” cried Lucia. “That is—l didn’t .ueaa— T didn’t mean to soli them, or anything like that, you know 1 I I - oh, what shall I dot’* “You 'should have thought of that before,” ho suggested. Then, aUdressing Mrs Bradford: “I understand that Mrs Carinody’s husband returned with her.” “Yes, but he’s not at home. He .« down-town with Mr Bradford. Ch, can’t you wait until they come home?” “I could, but— You see, she must go before tho Commissioner to have bail fixed, —you understand that this will bo merely a preliminary hearing —and it’s getting pretty late.” Ho looked at his watch. “If I ’phono that we’re coming down, the Commissioner will probably wait for us—he’s always very considerate of ladies, tho Commissioner is, —and if your husband and hers could meet us hero, it might simplify matters. You’ll probably wish to arrange for bail at once, and I take it that you personally—ladies don’t usually—” “Oh, I don’t know anything about it, of courso 1” Cecily’s faco showed how deeply -she was- troubled. •‘l’ll telephone to Mr Bradford.” Sho went un-stairs to the telephone, and Lucia followed, after a fluttering, terrified glance at her captor, very pale and trembling greatly. “I suppose there’s no—hope?” sho whispered. “I —I’ll have to go, won’t I? And—oh, Cecily 1 Cecily! Bruce will havo to know!” “I’m afraid lie will! Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry! But that’s of no use now! It won’t help you a bit. All wo can do now is to keep our nerves steady and make tho best of it.” She called up Bradford’s office, and her faco showed her increasing perturbation as her rapid questions were answered.

“Very well,” sho said, finally; “give mo Mr Clark’s telephone number, —quickly, please.” Then, in hasty explanation to Lucia, “Tho boys are not thero. They went out with tho San Francisco man about two o’clock, and said they would not to back to-day. Nobody in the office' knows where they are, but they think they may have, gone to Mr Clark's office. He’s Otis’s lawyer. If they 10 not there, I’ll ask him to moot us. Listen! What’s that?” The front door had opened and closed, and there was a cheerful sound of masculine voices in the lower Iu.IL A moment later two white-faced women precipitated themselves down the stairs and into the arms of their laughing husbands. “Jove! This is a welcome!” Carmody exclaimed. “Oh, Bruce!” shuddered Lucia, hiding her face against his coat. ‘‘Otis! Otis! Wo want you so!” “Do you now! Four minds with but a single thought 1 We saw our man safely on his train, and then we decided that instead of doing any more business we’d take the rest of the day off and play with you girls, provided you’d— What’s the matter, dear? Anything wrong?” Cecily silently indicated tho waiting officer, who had considerately turned his face in the other direction. “To see me?” “N-no. He —he’s a deputy United States marshal.” “A deputy—well, what the deuce is he doing here?” Carmody turned a startled glance upon his hostess, while his arms tightened about his trembling wife. “‘He came —he says he came about

some lace. He thinks it was smuggled.’,’ “Oh,” said Bruce, comprehensively. “I seel I guess that’s my business.” “No —no, it isn’t 1” faltered his wife. “It’smine! I —I—oh, Bruce 1” “It’s all right, dear. Don’t worry,” he whispered, while Cecily finished, at a gulp : “He’s eome to arrest Lucia !” “Arrest Lucia 1 Arres —1” Bradford had already wheeled toward the reception-room, when Carmody interrupted him. “Hold on, Otis! This is my affair.” Disengaging himself from his wife’s clasp, he stepped quickly toward the marshal, followed by the others. “Good afternoon,” ho said, quietly. “My name is Carmody. There seems to he some misunderstanding here.” “I think not,” replied the officer, measuring the newcomer with his glance. “We had information that Mrs Carmody had smuggled certain laces "hrongh the customs, wrapped in railway folders. I came here with a search-warrant and found tho folders, still filled with lace.” “Precisely. But you haven’t found quite all the facts. To begin with, Mrs Carmody didn’t bring in those

folders.” “No?” “No. I brought them myself.” “Oh, Bruce! You didn’t 1 3Cou mustn’t 1” hysterically protested Lucia, fancying she read his chivalrous purpose, but Cecily silenced her with a little shake, and muttered: “’Shi Sit tight!” “Indeed?” The deputy looked sceptical. He, also, fancied he saw the purpose of tho defence. “You brought in the folders, ell ? “I did. I’ve carried them for months in my pocket —as you can tell by the looks of them —and that’s tho way they came in; in my overcoat

pocket.” “Filled with lace?” “'Filled with lace,—on every thread of which the duties have been paid.” Lucia drew her Breath sharply. Never before in all the years she had known him had she suspected her husband of even the slightest deviation from the truth, and now for her sake —! She was about to protest against the sacrifice he would make, when he selected a paper from several he had taken from his pocket, and said : “Tliore’s tho receipt. If you’ll examino it, you’ll find it entirely to your satisfaction, I think.” “H’m!” said the marshal. “This looks regular enough, but what proof have I that the laces hero specified aro the laces in these folders?” “They are described pretty accurately.” “But we have a sworn statement that your wife declared the duties had not been paid on these —” “Who made it?” interrupted Bradford. “That’s what I want to know I Who made it?” “The cabman who drove tho ladies up from the dock.” Carmody laughed a little. “You remember,” he suggested, “I said there had been a misunderstanding.” “Thai/’s all very well,” said the marshal, “but if you meant- to pay tho duties, why did you conceal the lacb in the folders?” “Well, as to that—” Bruce hesitated a moment-, glanced at Lucia’s

i strainod colorless face, and slowly [continued: “As to that, I was arranging a lit-tlo surprise for my wife, —but it seems to havo assumed proportions I had not foreseen.” “H’m!” said tho sceptical marshal. Then ho shook His head.

“You seo,” Carmody wont on, “wo ngrood in London, my wife and I, that wo would declare everything dutiable, to tho smallest dotail.” Again he looked at Lucia, but sho did not moot his glance. “So whon sho packed—she always does all tho packingsho left all tho dutiablo stuff to bo put in ono trunk, and then wo mndo a list of it—sho and I together, you understand ?—for declaration.” “Well?” “Woll, that’s tho reason tho lace was concealed in folders in my poclcot —because wo made that list to gother.” “Oh —I seo,” said tho marshal. “Did Mrs Carmody also pack your bag?” „ “Mrs Carmody packed everything, gravelv said her husband, whereat Bradford lifted a quick hand to bis lips to cover an irrepressible smile. “You’ro satisfied now that there’s been a mistake, aren’t you?” noxiously asked Cecily. “Not entirely. Mr Carmody, did you show theso laces to tho inspector exactly as they aro now, wrapped in tho folders'?”

“Exactly ns they aro now,—and explained tho mattor to him just as I havo to you.” “H’m I” Tho deputy thoughtfully rubbed tho top of his head for a moment. Then said lie: “Look -here, gentlemen; the man who made this affidavit is out thero on tho box. I came up in his rig. Do you mind if I havo him in hero a minute?” Tho cabman was promptly summoned, and the officer fixed a keen gnzo “You’re sure,” ho stonily questioned, “that Mrs Carmody specifically stated that tho duties had not been paid on this laco?” “Yis, sor 1” Tho reply was emphatic. “Tli’ laady hero ast her did sho pay a any duties on it at all at all, and says Missus Caarmody, ‘Not wan cint,’ says she. AVo -declared iverything ilso, to tho smallest detalo,’ says she, iust like that, ‘but tho laces seem to’vo been —overlooked,’ -says she, like that, ‘The laces soem to’vo been —overlooked.’ ” His reproduction of Lucia’s droll inflection was inimitable, and it was evidont that ho could have originated noithcr the phrases nor tho manner in which they wero delivered.

“There seems to bo somo confusion hero still,” suggested tho deputy, eyeing Carmody. “Not at all.” Lucia’s husband granted that l'aees brought into this country concealed in folders must nosmiled. “Apparently Mrs Carmody is cessarily be smuggled. It is, perhaps, a not unnatural corollary to our peculiar customs regulations. I’ve already explained to you that I had not taken her into my confidence in this matter, for —reasons of my own. I left London with these laces concealed in my pocket; I brought them across the ocean ill my pocket ; when I made my declaration in the ship, 1 purposely chose a time when Mrs Carmody was on deck; and I was careful to place her in a carriage with Mrs Bradford on tho dock before I had the luggage examined. I sent my coat home in the carriage with them, as I was detained down-town by business, and I’vo not seen my wife since until within ten minutes. Now, here are tho laces, here is tho receipt, and I’ve given you my explanation of what, I grant, is an unusual situation. If you’re still unsatisfied, I’ll gladly go down-town with you and do my best to clear the matter up. Perhaps we can find tlie inspector who examined tho luggage. X think he’ll remember the circumstances. J J “No,” said the deputy, slowly, “I guess you’re all right. I’vo mado no arrest here yet —and I won’t. I’m satisfied there’s nothing in this, though it certainly looked like a clear case. I’m sorry to havo troubled you, ladies, but I hope you understand I had no choice in, the matter. Good afternoon.” He nodded to the bewildered cabman to precede him, and bowed himself out.

When tho Carmodys wore again alone, after the first moments of readjustment, Lucia said: “You might have told me, deart” “Cui bono?” Ho regarded her good-naturedly. “Why do you say that?” sho demanded, not wholly relishing the indulgent quality of his smilo. Why didn’t you tell me?” “Well, I’d said my say on the subject—pretty definitely, I thought and when, tho second day out, 1 found the lace, why—!” Whimsically he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not wholly without a sens© of humor, dearie, so I held my peace. But just tho same,” he was serious again, “even if you don’t respect law as law,, you see now how dangerous it is to trifle with it.” “Oh, I don’t know,” she returned. “After all, what did it amount to? It was all fireworks. Nothing, really happened.” To this her husband yielded one astonished stare: then ho sat down oil a chair and laughed.

Olio witness before tho Conciliation Board at Culverton last week said that on the average, musterers’ dogs were worth about £5 per head. “Would you give £5 per head for all the musterers’ dogs on your station?” inquired Mr Kennedy. “No, I would not,” replied tho witness, “but- the best of them arc worth £lO a head.” “What are tho worst of them worth?” inquired the labor representatvio. “A bullet” was tho brief reply, at which there was a general laugh.

“Having boon asked by influential members of the Irish peerage to allow myself to be nominated for the vacancy among the representative peers caused by the death of Lord Kilmaine, I have consented,” writes Lord Cur zon in an address to tlio Irish peers, dated Dec. 27. “When,” he continues, “an Irish peerage was conferred upon mo bv her late Majesty in 1898 it was with a view to my returning at a later date to the House of Commons, and for long this was my ambition. The strain, however, of my work in India proved to much for my strength, and medical opinion has driven me reluctantly to the conclusion that I cannot re-enter that House. In these circumstances, if I am to be of any service in public life, it is in tho House of Lords alone that the opportunity can be found. But I -am, unfortunately, debarred from entering that Chamber by the ordinary channels by the refusal of tho present Prime Minister to allow mo to take my place with all other ex-Viceroys of India upon those benches.”