the scales of a woman's love, yes, even so light a thing as a laugh-at the right moment.-Philadelphia Inquirer.

A Venture in Fiction.

"There must be some interesting story! There always is about such places. Think hard!" said Miss Cobden.

Dr. Marshall smiled at the pretty, earnest face turned to him. Girls like Miss Cobden were as rare in Eliotville as strawberries in January, and the doctor, fully awake to this fact, was making the most of her stay in the quiet old town.

Fortunately at this period, the general status of health in Eliotville was considerably above par-fortunately for the doctor, for he was a conscientious young man, and would never have neglected a patient even for such merry eyes and bewitching mouth as Miss Cobden possessed. As it was, he was free to spend most of his time in her society; to drive with her among the hills, and to walk with her across the fields, where already, with the opening spring, Mother Nature was working her countless miracles.

"Interesting stories are rare here," said the doctor. "Really, I can't recall a single local incident that isn't either sordid or commonplace."

"Oh, I'm sure there's one," Miss Cobden said. "Every town has its traditions and its folk-lore. Think hard," she urged again.

I'm afraid I don't know them, then," he said. "Hold on, though! The very one! Stupid I didn't think of it before."

"Produce it!" the girl commanded. "I'm all attention."

"Do you remember that little house up among the hills?" asked the doctor, "the tumble-down, weather-beaten affair with the honeysuckle at the door?"

Miss Cobden nodded.

"Once," said he, "a very pretty girl lived there. She eloped with a young fellow from the next town. They drove like mad over five miles of the worst road in this section to the parsonage, with papa on a foaming black mare following hot on their trail.”

"How interesting!" said Miss Cobden. "Tell me all about it."

And this the doctor proceeded to do. He told the story well, giving color to every little detail. Miss Cobden listened raptly. The color in her face came and went, and her eyes shone.

"It's just the sort of a story I wanted,' she declared as the doctor finished. want to see the little old house again and the parsonage, too, and the bridge-in fact, the whole of that ride."

The doctor leaned forward in his chair.

Friday afternoon the doctor pulled up before the house of Miss Cobden's aunt, with whom she was staying. He wore an immaculate frock coat, and a shining high hat gave him quite a distinguished air. Miss Cobden laughed gaily as he helped her into the buggy.

"I wanted to make this as realistic as I could," he explained, "so to borrow local phraseology, I handsomed up.''

"That," she said lightly, "was just why I put on my best bib and tucker. Of course, that other couple wore their best clothes."

"And their understudies can do no less," laughed the doctor.

They drove along the winding roads to the little house among the hills. The doctor reined up the horse in the little driveway.

"Now," said he, "here is where the ride begins. Sit tight, for I promise you I shall make it as exciting as possible." Do," urged the girl.

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Imagine papa standing in that side door," he said. "He is muttering profound curses and otherwise misbehaving verbally. Now he starts for the barn to saddle the black mare. We're off! "

He touched the horse with the whip and they flew down the drive into the roadway. Down the little hill they sped, the doctor urging the horse into a breakneck run. When they reached a little hollow he turned to the girl.

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Papa in sight yet?" he asked, anxiously.

She laughed gaily as she caught the spirit of the thing, and looked back.

Not yet," she said in a nervous little voice.

The pines and cedars flew past as they galloped up another hill.

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"It was here, probably," the doctor explained, they first sighted papa. Do you see him yet?

"Yes," she said, "he's galloping down the hill."

"Is he gaining on us?" asked the doctor.

"I don't think so," she replied with absurd gravity. "But hurry! oh, hurry!"

The doctor shouted to the horse and the buggy swayed from side to side on the uneven road. The girl's cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled. They thundered across a little bridge.

"It was here," said the doctor, "the

wagon came near upsetting and he put his arm about her lest she be thrown out."

Suiting the words, he slipped an arm about Miss Cobden. She gasped, sat very erect for a moment and then nestled against his broad shoulder. He could have shouted with delirious joy.

On they flew, the buggy banging recklessly, and the doctor's left arm holding the girl close to him. Presently they came to the foot of a steep hill.

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"The parsonage is at the top of the hill," said the doctor, "and it was about here their horse fell down, and they ran up the hill afoot. I can't make Dolly fall down, but we'll let her graze along the side of the road. Quick!

He reined in the horse, jumped out and lifted Miss Cobden to the ground. Then he caught her by the hand and they ran lightly up the hill. At the top was a small white house, and before it they stopped, panting breathlessly.

"Such was their ride," said Marshall, dramatically. "Shall we repeat the climax? Shall we go in?"

The girl's eyes opened wide. "I-I took out a license - er- this morning," panted the doctor without looking at her.

"Papa has-has reached the foot of the hill. He's-he's starting up now," said the girl, also looking away.

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fireplace. My hostess was pointing out this chimney one day when it suggested to her this story of a Christmas long ago.

"My father was captain of one of the old whalers," she began, sitting down on the doorstep with me, "and his ship was long overdue. It was late in December and terrible weather, and mother was so sad and fearful that we, too, felt she must be right and poor father would never come back. The day before Christmas I couldn't stand things so any longer, and I said: 'Let's do something to cheer up! Let's have a candy pull with all the girls here tonight!' My sister jumped up and said, 'Let's!' as if she felt just as I did. Mother said we might, so we hurried out and asked sixteen girls. The Nantucket boys were as fine a set as you'd find anywhere, but we didn't ask one, just for the fun of the thing, to see what they'd do. By night they knew all about it and vowed they'd get even some day.

"When the girls were all there we hung the great iron pot full of molasses on the crane in the kitchen chimney and sat around and told stories while we waited for it to boil. Presently mother called us to come into the front room and see how the weather had cleared all of a sudden and how the moon was rising right out of the sea. It did look beautiful, and we all stood looking till someone exclaimed that if we didn't look out the candy would surely burn, and then we hurried into the kitchen-and the candy was gone, kettle and all! Gone entirely, though all the windows and doors were fastened for the night, just as we had left them. No one could have come in or out of the house without our seeing him, either, for both the front and back doors had been in sight all the time. Well, we hunted and listened and looked, but not a trace was to be found of the candy. It just looked like witchcraft.

"By and by, all the girls went home excited enough, and we went to bed, but we could not sleep. If ghosts had not done it, who had? And who but a ghost, and a strong one at that, could ever have lifted and carried off that heavy iron kettle all boiling hot?

"We did not have Christmas trees in those days, and we did not give presents, either, because it was thought to be wrong, but we had a grand Christmas the next day in spite of that, for father's ship got in early in the morning, and by noon he was with us, and when he undid his bundles there were presents for everybody. It was about the happiest day in our lives.

"By and by we told him about the candy, and how he laughed at us. 'Ghosts,' he said, 'ghosts in Nantucket' I'll rout them out.' So he went and

looked up the chimney. Then he went out and climbed up to the roof and called us girls to come. We only had to climb up the cliff at the back of the house and step right out on the roof, and father, being a sailor, could walk on the ridge pole as if it had been flat. The snow on the cliff was all trampled down and black with soot, and there was molasses candy hardened everywhere. So, of course, we guessed in a minute how it was. Those

boys had been watching us, and when we left the room they just pulled the kettle right up the chimney. We found afterwards that they had a rope with a hook all ready.

"When they found that we knew, they

I had it made up and wore it to be married in, so that I never forgot it. Taking it altogether, that was a pretty nice Christmas."

She sat smiling to herself like a girl again as she looked up at the huge old chimney up which went the Christmas candy, and out toward the beach where the Christmas whale had lain.-Caroline Benedict Burrell, in Ram's Horn.

A New Year's Wish.

A little tenderer each day
To all who hold me dear;
A little sweeter in my home,
May I become this year.

brought it back, and the girls came in and we had another candy pull that afternoon. But before that we had all been to the shore to see a very wonderful thing. When father went away he said:

If I bring a whale back with me you girls shall each have a silk dress.' We never had thought of it, for whales were always found away out at sea, but it happened that as they were near home they found one and just towed it in, and there it was Christmas morning, right on the Nantucket sands. And that was the way I got my first silk dress, and the next year

O, may my eyes, that plainly see
My neighbor's faults, grow clear
To sins and errors in myself
As fades the passing year.

As the chill winter frosts give way
To sunshine's sweet appeal,
May to the winter of my heart

Love's gentle radiance steal.

And thus upon life's barrenness

Shall flowers and fruit appear,
Each season bringing heaven's gifts
To bless my happy year.

-Mary F. Butts, in Christian Endeavor World,

Marketing for Magyar Maidens.

The Magyars are the dominant people of Hungary, especially on the plains, and they have some queer customs, especially in the manner of selecting wives. A writer visiting Hungary tells an interesting story of the annual maiden market as he saw it in Bodony:

The girls were mostly handsome, wellproportioned Magyar types, who, in their artlessness, did not seem to find anything improper in the short cut of their skirts, which barely reached below their knees. They wore shirt waists of light material, dark shawls crossed over the breast, aprons, and thick, red or blue stockings in low shoes. Some were bare-headed, while others had large gray kerchiefs tied over their heads in a peculiar fashion.

On both sides of the village street gingerbread bakers and gew-gaw dealers had erected canvas tents for the sale of their wares. There were acrobats and fakers, and an organ grinder turned the crank of his instrument with the rapidity of the merry-go-round in front of which he was stationed. The cars of the merry-goround were filled with giggling girls, while others strolled about in small groups among the tents, admiring and commenting on the goods, and being followed by their elder relatives.

The young fellows, with their friends, lined the street, eyeing the girls and exchanging remarks about them. Whenever a group of the latter stopped in front of a stand, which happened quite often, in order as it seemed to me-to give the lads a chance to approach, one or the other young man would step up and begin a conversation with a girl who had attracted his attention.

I was much interested in the proceedings; in fact, enough so to spend several hours in Bodony, during which, with the help of my Ratfa host, I learned all about the annual maiden market, the main features of which are the following:

The preliminaries, generally, consist in the young man buying the girl, who has made some impression on him, a gingerbread heart or something similar, and an inquiry as to what village she nails from. He addresses her with the familiar "thou," while she uses the conventional 'maga," corresponding to the English "you." The conversation which follows is not very clever, being more or less restricted to good-natured banter.

During this conversation this girl is critically eyed by the relatives of the young man, who carefully inspect her whole appearance. After awhile they join in the conversation. If everything seems to be satisfactory, the young couple walk off arm in arm, while fur

So maw told him agin, and paw says:

I tell you what I'm agoin to Do. I'll git a Day off and we'll go and Finish up this job all at wunst. It makes me sick To hear this Foolishness about shoppen trubbles all the Time. If wimmen would no how to Go at it they woulden't have no Bother. The way to Do is make up your mind what you Want to git and Then go and By it without Runnin all over the sitty and examinen all the Fall and winter stiles of folden beds and sossidge grinders when you no frum the start that you are agoin to git a solud silver teaspoon what was marked down From sixty sents. You go along and Watch me this time, and it'll save you lots of trubble in the Fewture."

Paw got his Day off all rite, and Aunt grace come over to Take care of the baby and the pupp becos maw sed it was a Shame if me and Little albert Diden't get a Chanct to see the sites.

When we got Down town and was pushen thru the crowd pretty soon we Come to a place whare they was a turrable Jam, and all the people was tryin to Git ahed of each other and some Had thare Hats nocked down over thare eyes, and Everybuddy was pullen or pushen, and paw Let go of Little albert's hand and hollered, "Hello, here's a fite goin on," and tried to rush in whare it was. After while He found a nopening, and that was the Last we Seen of him fer a long time.

At last I cot site of Him fitin his way Out agin By comin Side ways with a glassy look, and I Hollered:

What was it, paw?

"Thay was Sellin salt sellers with solud Silver Tops on them in Here fer five sents