perpetual challenge cup for friendly competition between foreign countries. Here is the history of the struggles made by British yachtsmen to secure the America's Cup. 1870-Magic beat Cambria by 39 minutes.

1871-Livonia raced thrice against Columbia and twice against Sappho, winning third match with the former by 15 minutes.

1876-Madeline

twice defeated Countess Dufferin by 10 minutes. 1881-Mischief twice defeated Atlanta

by 28 minutes. 1885-Puritan beat Genesta twice-first

by 16 minutes and second by 1 minute 38 seconds.

1886-Mayflower twice beat Galatea

first by 12 minutes and second by 29 minutes. 1887-Volunteer twice beat Thistle -first by 19 minutes and second by 11 minutes.

1893-Vigilant thrice beat Valkyrie -first by 512, second by 10, and third by 40 seconds. 1895-Defender beat Valkyrie III in the

first of three contests. The second race was won by the British boat after a foul. On appeal, however, the race was awarded Defender. The third race was not sailed. 1899-Shamrock I, designed by Mr. Wil

liam Fife, and built by Messrs, Thorneycroft & Co., London, met Mr. Iselin's Columbia 11 times before the issue was settled, so uncertain were the winds of that season. At their eighth meeting Columbia won by 10 minutes 11 seconds; at the ninth Shamrock I carried away her topmast shortly after the start, and Columbia, according to agreement, went on and won; and then, in a strong wind and sea, at the eleventh trial, Columbia won by 5 minutes 17 seconds.

1901-Shamrock II, designed by Mr. G.

L. Watson, and built by Messrs. Denny, was the challenger. Columbia was again the defending yacht, and proved the winner in

all the three matches, in the first

by 1 minute 25 seconds, in the second by 3 minutes 35 seconds, and on the third Shamrock II was, however, 2 seconds ahead, but lost by 41 seconds on the time allow

ance.

The trials of Shamrock III on the Clyde, at Weymouth in the south of England, and elsewhere, the breaking of the long pole mast, so carefully constructed by Messrs. Denny and the determined manner in which another was immediately constructed, are all matters about which the yachting public have kept themselves in close touch. That Sir Thomas, the Dennys, Willie Fife, George Watson, Captain Wringe, who will be in command, and the English public think that this time they have got the cuplifter, there can be no manner of doubt.

Not less confident are the friends of the Reliance. No one who has seen the work of the marvelous boat builder of the little New England town, can fail to read the meaning of the lines and curves. the defender's creator has put into her form. There are shown the intuition of what the moment will demand; the allowance for the feeling the sea will have for the creature entrusted to it, and the need of the craft which is to skim the waters at the wind's command. All of this, a man deprived of the faculty of sight, has year after year, been able to give to the fairy-like creation that delights the eyes of the nation, while it gallantly defends the coveted prize. But of the launching of the Reliance, as exciting as that of the Shamrock, have we not read in the chronicles of the day? It is a noble vessel, in truth, and is dowered with the confidence of the New World's hopes. Yet should the cup change hands this time and cross to its original resting place, the American people will give the conqueror her due, the owner their huzzas, and set to work as fast as they can to build a boat that will bring back the trophy to American shores for another cycle of time.

W

Chapter IV.

HEN Stratton walked into the office of the Illuminator it was without any elation over the story he brought. He couldn't have told how he collected the data for the gowns, nor much about how the photographs came into his possession. He remembered dimly that when he passed out of that not-to-be-forgotten alameda hedge, he had seen his hostess with several other women talking excitedly with Miss Delmar; that later when he had dared to approach Mrs. Hinckley, she had at once. opened the subject of photographs and offered to show him a number of her own to choose from. He could not remember to have told her that he had skulked into her home to steal the likenesses of her guests, but some way she knew it, and was showering coals of fire by giving him what he had come for, and preventing his robbing her of it.

Moreover, he found himself pos

sessed in some mysterious way, of the photographs of the bridesmaids. of yesterday, even Miss Delmar's "though this," she said, "you will not need, since you have the miniature your sister painted. How clever it is, too. You must be very proud of her. When she comes back I shall see if she will do me."

A number of other women had given him "points" (he remembered long afterwards that one of them had written down the names of textiles and fashion of the gowns he was to describe.) But of this he recalled little as he sat writing the report that brought delight to the heart of his chief. The story was

a "beat"-no other paper had ever printed any sort of picture of Miss Delmar. To have the miniature and to be able to say it was "reproduced by kind permission of the owner," was to have reached the heights of ambition for the Society Department of the Illuminator.

It was all a success except in the

eyes of the man who had brought the news. To him it was an ignominious failure. Not only was he honestly ashamed of having gained his point in the way he had, but he was secretly mortified at having his own profession superseded by the mechanical labor of the photographer, which, as art, he was bound to hold in contempt. And that he was compelled to write out the trivialities of a report on a mere social function irked him now to the most intense degree.

How different was his feeling on opening the paper the following the following morning to that he had experienced on seeing his sketch of the Hon. Asa Witherson. He seemed in twentyfour hours to have run the gamut between a sense of happy accomplishment of something worth while and the wretched execution of an abominable thing. Another difficulty faced him; he had not thought of it in the rush of the night before, now he felt he had been unmindful of a brother's duty to a sister. Frances' portrait had been reproduced with the others; he had allowed the publication of that likeness he should have been the one to keep from the public gaze. In his sister's absence, too, he had forced her into a position she might, like. the young girl, shrink from, and now he realized fully Claude Delmar's hatred of notoriety. And there was the miniature, to be returned, so in no way could he avoid the responsibility of what he had entered upon so lightly yesterday, as a passing thing from which he might win a little glory by his deeds.

Quite unheedful of his steps he went along, head down, upon the mission of the moment. He was stopped at the Fountain by a block. of wagons and cars. Waiting to cross also there stood beside him, he suddenly perceived, the girl who had not been out of his thoughts since this hour yesterday. She saw him in the same moment, hesitated

the fraction of an instant, then bowed. She said something, what he could not have told, but it permitted him to speak:

"I have been wondering where I am to take the miniature," he said. The block was broken and they were walking up Market street as though their affairs called them naturally in the same direction.

"I am sorry I destroyed that sketch," she said, irrelevantly. "I've been wanting to say so ever since. It was not mine; I had no right to it, and all I can do now- she looked shyly at him, flushing a little "but you won't have any use for another."

"Not for the Illuminator," he answered quickly. "But when I come

back, perhaps I

shall be able to do

a portrait of you, if you will let me, that will be

"When you come queried.

back?" she

If I go at

"Yes, from Rome. once perhaps I shall not do any more such things as I tried to do yesterday. And in Italy art may be art."

"Why not in California?"

"In America only the industries. have place," he said, bitterly, thinking of the photographs.

"Because they are worked for," Claude declared. "My father used to say if we worked as hard in America over our art and music as we worked over them in Europe we'd make them as successful industries as any others. I've come back to try it; why don't you, too?"

"Try to make art an industry?" "A success-then in Our Own country, and with our own atmosphere. Can we not be ourselves, even in art?"

That walk up Market street took on, for Stratton, a beautiful significance. He and the girl talked of such things as youth puts hope in; of wonderful aims and how to reach them; and what one will do with them when accomplished, and of the unending possibilities in a wide, great land that was not even bound

ed by an ocean to east or west or a continent to north or south, but had within itself all that could content a great nation and make it, with the help of its workers, the greatest of all mighty powers.

And the whirling wind that buffeted them as they faced it only keyed their spirits to a tenser tone, and the light that shone from the glowing sky and turned the floating dust particles to motes of gold, gleamed in their eyes filled with purpose and with lovely dreams.

It was that night that Stratton wrote to Frances: "The West needs her sons who will carve their masterpieces here, not take their effort elsewhere."

lows and cast her beams coldly forward over the pathway before.

But dark or bright, the sea still held its charm. The roar of its waves drowned the voices of people chatting boisterously while lounging in their chairs or tramping noisily in eager exercise. Emily did not dare to become more sociable with her fellow-travelers than to briefly exchange greetings lest she should find some unavoidable means of spending the money she must hoard. True, she saw no coins or bank notes in evidence, but the little slips of paper the stewards brought to be signed every time an order was given, stood, she knew, for amounts that must be settled as ex

CHAPTER IV. Mixed Motives.

The sea, whether angry or tranquil, is calming, and the traveler can forget many things while idly watching its moods. Emily spent Emily spent many hours regarding the ocean's vagaries, now gazing over the shortening distance that lay before and that at close of day seemed to be leading to a land of rose and gold, then turning with lingering regret towards the way whence she had come. In the morning that way was golden, but at evening it was gray and dark or a great pale moon would glide ghostly from the waves, perhaps frame some floating object for a moment, betraying a ghastly sight, then rise above the line of bil

tras. She wondered, indeed, that so many extras should be wanted; the accommodations were ample in all respects, and some of those who were constantly demanding more could not, she guessed, from their talk overheard, be accustomed at home to the luxury they were enjoying now.

One afternoon, having exhausted all the stray literature, and tired with incessantly walking the deck, she met the purser as he came from the second cabin.

"Lonesome, aren't you?" he said. "Come and see me; I'll show you some curiosities that'll amuse you."

They were near his door and she listlessly followed him into his office. He flung his cap on the desk