Handkerchiefs are always dainty gifts, especially for sending by mail to distant friends. A sheer handkerchief already hemstitched may be ornamented with a band of drawn-work, a strip of insertion with lace edging, or the monogram, favorite flower, or name flower of the future owner. No matter how small the gift, it is the loving thought and friendly wish which are appreciated by the receiver. A CASE OF PURE PLUCK. BY W. J. HENDERSON. Outside of Life-Saving Station No. 5 it was blowing a whole gale of wind. The sky was a flying tangle of ragged gray clouds that were driving at dizzy speed down into the southwest before the mad force of the northeaster. The beach was a desert of flying sand that struck the face of the staggering patrolman like a thousand red-hot needles. The ocean itself was a wilderness of writhing waters. The seas were running high, and the gale was tearing off their foaming crests and sending them swirling down to leeward in sheets of smokelike spoondrift. But the offing was clear of sails, and the life-saving crew sat in the cheery living-room of the station and smoked their pipes at ease. "It's a-blowin' putty fresh," said old Dan Ferns. "It sort o' 'minds me o' the night the _Dora A. Baker_ came ashore. That was twenty-five year ago, an' her ribs is stickin' out down there now. They get covered up in these here big gales, but the pond runs out an' scoops the channel right through 'em sometimes. I remember the wrack o' the _Dora A. Baker_ jess as if 'twas yistiddy. She was loaded with corn an'--" "Say, Dan," said Sammy Wardell, the youngest member of the crew, "I remember hearin' Wall Green say ten year ago that you'd been a-tellin' that yarn fur twelve year." "Anyhow," said Dan, "her skipper had real pluck, he did, an' when the corn--" "Oh, stow it, Dan! Stow it!" came a general chorus. Then Henry Slocum, the only member of the crew who had been a deep-water sailor, and who was noted for his reserve, suddenly spoke. "I don't know what you fellows call pluck exactly," he said, with fine unconsciousness of the fact that he was talking to some of the bravest men alive; "but I'll bet I saw a case once that none of you can trump." "Let's have it, old shell-back," exclaimed the Captain. The other men knew that Slocum's experience at sea had been extensive and varied, so they settled themselves in their chairs to hear a yarn. "This is a true story," began Slocum, "that I'm going to tell you--" "O' course," interjected Dan Ferns; "all sea-yarns is true."