more than a day too late for the benefactor to die and get into
that week's issue, but in plenty of time to make connection for the
next output. Thus the Fosters had to wait almost a complete week to
find out whether anything of a satisfactory nature had happened to him
or not. It was a long, long week, and the strain was a heavy one.
The pair could hardly have borne it if their minds had not had the
relief of wholesome diversion. We have seen that they had that.
The woman was piling up fortunes right along, the man was spending them
--spending all his wife would give him a chance at, at any rate.

At last the Saturday came, and the WEEKLY SAGAMORE arrived.
Mrs. Eversly Bennett was present. She was the Presbyterian
parson's wife, and was working the Fosters for a charity.
Talk now died a sudden death--on the Foster side. Mrs. Bennett
presently discovered that her hosts were not hearing a word she
was saying; so she got up, wondering and indignant, and went away.
The moment she was out of the house, Aleck eagerly tore the wrapper
from the paper, and her eyes and Sally's swept the columns for the
death-notices. Disappointment! Tilbury was not anywhere mentioned.
Aleck was a Christian from the cradle, and duty and the force of
habit required her to go through the motions. She pulled herself
together and said, with a pious two-per-cent. trade joyousness:

"Let us be humbly thankful that he has been spared; and--"

"Damn his treacherous hide, I wish--"

"Sally! For shame!"

"I don't care!" retorted the angry man. "It's the way YOU feel,