Oh," said the curé, "that is very, very wrong of you." He felt that it was indeed very wrong; for, after all, if a man may not eat meat, he must yet eat something. He cannot nourish a treble chin on air alone. "It is very wrong of you," he repeated. At five the curé dined, and Suzanne was punctuality itself. At that very Then, in sheer absence of mind, he moment she put in her head. "M. le took up his fork and began pricking Curé, le dîner est servi," she said. the turkey with the prongs. Now, The curé got up and walked across man is, after all, so much a creature of the hall into the other room, his dining-habit that I defy you to have a fork in room. What a delicious smell! He your hands for more than a few seconds tried to frown. without the fork finding its way to your mouth; you do not consciously place it there the hand moves mechanically. So it was with the curé. Suzanne lifted the cover. Yes, it was true! There was the turkey, plump and brown and juicy, exhaling the most exquisite odors under his very nose. There was a terrible mental struggle. He turned at first very red -the blush that waits upon a crime; then very pale- he was forming a stern resolve; then nearly blue — this was the strangulating effect of conflicting emotions. "Suzanne!" he exclaimed, in a tone of reproach. Oh, the Eve-like craft of the woman! "Mais, Monsieur le Curé commanded me to cook it !" แ "Cook it? yes," answered the curé, and stopped short. Are not ecclesiastics right in their dread of women? Is not every woman a born temptress? And the worst of it is you can never cure them. Here, for instance, had this abandoned woman been enjoying for years the advantage of living in the same house with a really good man, who had over and over again pointed out to her exactly what she ought to do and what she ought to leave undone, and yet all this did not prevent her from playing the temptress when a favorable opportunity presented itself. And the curé was so very hungry! Nevertheless, he would not give way without a struggle. He laid down his "It was very wrong of you, Suzanne," he repeated once more. Suzanne noticed that the wrongdoing had now been transferred to the past tense. The fork returned mechanically to the breast of the turkey. All at once there was a ring at the front door. Suzanne went to open it. Presently she returned, her face flushed with excitement. "It is monseigneur!" she exclaimed. Monseigneur was the bishop. The curé started up. Suzanne noticed that the knife was now in the dish with the fork; so much progress had been made during her brief absence. "You have shown monseigneur into the study? Good! I will go there at once." He paused and then added, |“ Apropos, Suzanne, you had better keep the door of this room shut while I am with his lordship." He had already opened it, and was on his way to the study, when Suzanne exclaimed, "Mais, M. le Curé, will you not take off your serviette first ?" The curé looked down a little abashed. Yes, the serviette was really tucked under his chin. In his hurry he had knife and fork. "What else is there, Suzanne?" he forgotten it. But how had it come asked. there at all when there had been noth But there is nothing else, M. le ing but the forbidden turkey before him? It was certainly rather odd. Curé." The bishop was gracious and courtly, but he was a disciplinarian. "I have just heard," he said, as the curé entered the room, "of a very sad case, and I thought, as I was passing your door, that I would tell you of it at once. There is no time to be lost." “I am at the command of monseigneur," answered the curé dolefully. The bishop suddenly turned round. In three strides he had crossed the hall, and before Suzanne knew what he was doing, he had reached the dining-room door. "I know the way," he said pleas antly. "Perhaps you would kindly bring me a bit of bread and a glass of water." "Mais, monseigneur zanne. "It is a workman named Le Brun and his family, who have just come into your parish," said the bishop; "Rue de la Guerre, No. 8. He has ready open. fallen from a ladder, and grave fears are entertained. I think you had better go and see him at once." "I will go this very instant," said the curé still more dolefully. The Rue de la Guerre was at the furthest extremity of his parish. It was perhaps for this reason that the news had not already reached him. He had said that he would go that very instant, but he did not move. The bishop looked at him a little sternly. "There is no time to be lost," he repeated. began Su It was too late. The door was alThere in front of the bishop was the roast turkey, still uncovered, and generously diffusing all around it an appetizing odor. The bishop almost started at the spectacle. What! One of his clergy feasting in this way on a Friday in Advent! It was intolerable. Such enormities might pass unheeded amongst Protestants, with whom there was no discipline, but in his Church it was different. He bore a sword, and he would not bear it in vain. He looked round. Suzanne had fled, fearing perhaps to be excommunicated "I did not like to leave your lordship on the spot. alone," said the curé. "Oh, don't mind me," said the bishop, with a smile. "With your permission I may remain here till you return. I have an engagement close by a little later. By the way, could you give me a morsel of food? I have had nothing since the morning." "Certainly, monseigneur. I will tell Suzanne at once.' "But do not delay to go to poor Le Brun," said the bishop. "Suzanne knows me, and will not mind giving me a morsel." The curé went into the hall. Suzanne was there there was generally something to be done in the hall when the curé had a visitor in the study. She helped her master to put on his cloak, and handed him his hat. "Dux femina facti," said the bishop to himself. "I fear she is a bad woman. A turkey in Advent! It is strange how many women are wicked at heart." Then he drew closer to the table and noticed the knife in the dish, and the fork still sticking in the turkey's breast. "Arrested in the very act!" he said; "in flagrante delicto. But not a mouthful eaten. That I should have come at that exact moment when he was on the very verge of the precipice! " He sat down, struck by the strange fatality of the affair. There was bread upon the table almost under his hand. He began to crumble it. Then he put a little into his mouth. He was hungry he had had nothing since the morning. The bread he was taking excited "Monseigneur will take a little re- the salivary glands and made his appefreshment," he murmured. tite yet keener. He wondered whether The bishop was close by, so that any Suzanne was going to bring him anyprivate communication was impossible. thing. He had spoken of bread and Then the curé went out into the dark-water, but in his mind there had been ness, and Suzanne closed the door be- the vision of an omelette. An omelette hind him. is innocent at any time, and yet it is tasty and nourishing. But there was keen. The turkey, it was clear would no sign of Suzanne, and consequently not be able to resist it for a moment. no sign of an omelette. "I shall be fit for nothing at this rate," said the bishop to himself very sternly. "I feel positively fainting. I shall not be able to get through my work." And still the turkey steamed before him, and every exhalation was a fresh testimony to its succulence. Poor, neglected bird! It seemed to provoke the knife of the carver- -to implore the attention of some kindly eater. 66 Yes, on the original transgressor," repeated the bishop; "it is through him alone that this complication has arisen." Then he took up the fork. "There is no one else to do it," he said; "it has been forced upon me. It would be wrong on my part to let him escape the natural consequence of his error. Discipline must be maintained. I alone in this diocese have the power to grant a dispensation, and I hereby At last the bishop was so much dis-grant it — to myself." gusted with things in general that he There was a half-bubbling, half-hissplucked the fork out of the creature's ing sound as the trenchant blade made breast. What business had one of his a deep incision in the turkey's breast; clergy ever to have stuck it in? Disci- then there was a slight clatter of the pline must be maintained, especially in knife and fork upon the plate as the his diocese. He must give the curé a bishop began the sacrifice. He ate lesson - but how?" slowly and sternly; he was discharging a duty, and he discharged it conscientiously. The dining-room door was still open, and Suzanne, peeping from the kitchen, glimpsed the solemn scene. "It is Rousseau," he said to himself, "who advocates the doctrine that in education all punishment should be the natural consequence of the fault committed. In this case, for example, I suppose he would say that this man's fault would be most properly punished by some one else eating up the dinner he had criminally ordered to be prepared for himself. It is a pity Rousseau was an infidel, for there is certainly something in his theory." "Yes," he repeated, "there is certainly something in it. But it could not be carried out in this case without a certain sacrifice on the part of some one else. And who is there to make the sacrifice?" Rapt in meditation, he bent forward across the table, as if he would consult the turkey itself confidentially on the subject. The odor that the bird sent forth was indescribably delicious. The bishop sighed. "Some one, it is clear, must make the sacrifice," he said. "If there is anything wrong in it the guilt must rest on the original transgressor." He took up the carving-knife and felt the edge with his thumb. It was very At the end of a quarter of an hour the bishop rose from the table, looking sterner than ever. "I cannot eat it all," he said to himself, "but I have done my best. I have at any rate succeeded in reducing the temptation. The choicer morsels are now removed. I think the legs are probably tough." Then, without summoning Suzanne, he made his way into the hall and let himself out at the front door. Half an hour later the curé returned. 66 "Has monseigneur gone?" he asked. From Cassell's Saturday Journal. WHAT PARLIAMENTARY WHIPS HAVE TO DO. He 1890, on Ascot day, he lost control over the younger Tories, who tarried on the racecourse and nearly sacrificed the CHIEF of the government whips, the Compensation Clause to the Local TaxRight Hon. Edward Marjoribanks, is ation Bill, which was only saved by credited with an iron constitution," four votes. Mr. Akers-Douglas remains and he needs it. A whip has most chief Tory whip in the House of Comonerous responsibilities, and they are mons, one of his juniors being Lord not diminished when the majority of Arthur Hill, whose wife is the comhis party is a slender one, and possibly poser of many patriotic-or political might be swept away by a catch vote.songs. He was controller of the An instance of the vigilance which the household during Lord Salisbury's adgovernment whip must be prepared to ministration. The second Conservative exercise was to be noted recently, when whip, however, is Sir William Walrond, Mr. Gladstone's majority was tempora- Bart., who has twice acted in a similar rily, on a division, reduced to thirty-one capacity when junior lord of the treasby the action of one of his own sup-ury under the late administration. porters, Dr. Hunter, who opposed the has been in the Grenadier Guards, and proposals of the premier with the object is often absent from the House. Mr. of limiting the debate on the Home Rule Bill to Tuesdays and Fridays, and obtaining a day for the discussion of the payment of members. On that occasion — the evening of February 27 - Mr. Marjoribanks might have been seen in close consultation with the leader of the House of Commons, rapidly calculating the strength of his available forces and that of the enemy, hurriedly making sure of the support of the Irish allies, and fetching up every Radical from below the gangway. The numbers, after the members returned from the lobbies, were very esteemed for his genial manners and close indeed, but justified the principal whip's forecast. Mr. Marjoribanks possesses tact, energy, and good temper, and has always been popular. In 1885 he was appointed controller of the household an office associated with "whipping; " but when the members of the present government were in opposition, his chief was Mr. Arnold Morley, who, as whip to the Liberals, was considered a martinet of severe demeanor, and very "stand-offish" even to his friends. Austin Chamberlain and Mr. H. T. Anstruther share the duties of Liberal Unionist whips. The former models himself upon his father, Mr. Joseph Chamberlain, even to the eye-glass and orchid. The latter was second whip to his party in the late Parliament. On the Liberal side the second whip is Mr. T. E. Ellis, at one time, by some, called the "Parnell of Wales," and who is so national a Taffy that he makes his speeches in Welsh. He also writes for the Welsh press. Next to him in rank is Mr. R. K. Causton, who is highly the fourth government whip is “ Bobby" Spencer, as the Hon. Charles Robert, half-brother to Earl Spencer, is familiarly called in these latter days, his former nickname, Bradlaugh's Baby," having been dropped. 66 Between the respective whips there is frequently much negotiation; for example, the time of rising on the Thursday preceding Good Friday was result of such consultation. Only the chief whips are in the confidence of their leaders. The juniors merely carry Curiously enough, the Right Hon. A. out instructions. On the government Akers-Douglas, the chief Tory whip, is side the chief whip is also chief patronregarded by most press men as unap-age secretary to the treasury -a very proachable also, although he has been important office. In the absence of the called the "antithesis" of Mr. Arnold ministers on particular bills he takes Morley. He distinguished himself charge of the orders of the day, and he greatly by the majority of ninety-two is usually one of the tellers in great on the Local Government Bill; but in political divisions. A whip, in the ex ercise of his duties, must have a pro- or circulars to their supporters, earfound knowledge of human nature. He nestly" requesting their attendance. is responsible for making and keeping a Sir Wilfrid Lawson has explained the House, and preventing a "count out" meaning of the underlining of the word when it is not desired. The two junior "earnestly." If there is no dash it lords of the treasury who generally means that there is important business assist him are expected to possess un- which may or may not come on that limited powers of persuasion in keep- night; if there is one stroke under the ing the sheep within the fold on critical" earnestly " it means that the recipient occasions. They stand at the exits to the House, and no member of their party can escape their watchful eye. If an M.P. wishes to dine out, or to attend some private gathering or public meeting, he has to "pair," or gain permission of the whips, who give him liberty for so long, and he is obliged to say where he may be found at a certain hour. On an emergency a messenger will be despatched for the wandering M.P., to bring him from his dinnertable, his club, the theatre, opera, or wherever he may be. The whip has to cajole, to promise favors to come, to smooth ruffled feelings, and to talk over the wavering ones-all with the view of swelling the numbers of his party on a division, knowing full well that similar tactics are being energetically pursued on the opposite side. On the occasion of set divisions of paramount importance the leaders of the several parties issue written whips ought to attend; if the word is doubly underlined, it means that the member should come to the House of Commons; if there are three strokes, it implies that he must come; and if there are four, it is as good as saying, “Come, or stay away at your peril." Private members sometimes issue similar "whips." In big divisions the chief whip on each side is generally assisted by one of his juniors. It is the duty of the leading whips to act as tellers, and in the House of Commons their votes are not recorded, but in the House of Lords they are. The tellers announce the figures after the division. A government whip in due time obtains his reward. Mr. Arnold Morley is postmaster-general, and Mr. Cyril Flower, who shared with the right honorable gentleman the duties of whip to the Liberals when in opposition, is now elevated to the peerage under the title of Lord Battersea. LEAD POISONING IN IRON WORKS. The British Medical Journal publishes a communication from Dr. Fray Ormrod drawing attention to the occurrence of lead poisoning among men engaged at blast furnaces, in which that peculiar form of cast iron which goes by the name of "Spiegeleisen" is produced. This is largely used in the Bessemer process for the manufacture of steel, and is got from a considerable variety of ores, some of which are apt to contain an admixture of lead. When this flows from the furnace, either with the slag or with the reduced metal, it becomes oxidized, and rises in a dense yellowish-white fume, containing 645 to 745 per cent. of lead oxide. This is very poisonous, and to it the men who are engaged at the "slag holes" |