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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1895-5-24, Page 6Lee COMIN' THRJ) THE RYE. HY liareael B. MATIOna. CONTINUED "0°0cl-bygood-by!" say the Buffs. The footman puts in my portmanteau, and. away I go, feeling likeCinderella, •etithout the beauty. It is a lovely• day, but oh! I wish I had. a companion, for it 1. ault sitting on alone behind those two irgoot Is -backed men -servants. B:ow the nuts Tata their brown faces at rue erten the hedge! 1 shoald be happier a :taxing in the road with Jack, free to pick teem, than perched up here with nothing to do. I evonder if I dare as one of those seen to gather we sonae? I cannot eall them e a. I do not kuow their names, so 1 U) lift my voice in a "hem!" which I de - ,.or 'point-blank at the middle of the foot- latin'e back. "Did you speak, miss?" he said, touck- iug his hat and turning, "A—not exactly," I say; "but I want Houle of those nuts; can you pick them for e?' ' "Certainly, miss," and in another min- ute he is in the road, and scrambling up the hedge; his long :seat hampers his legs, the powder flies from his hair to his shoulders, but he is a man "for a' that;" and, filially, he brings me my nuts with UI inhaled, countenance. I fancy 1 hear him saying later in the servants' hall, "She's low, she is; she ate nuts out in the carriage, and cracked them with her own teeth, she did." ,And now we have passed through the '1 ge gates, and are rolling along between • avenue of tall trees that mark the ap- e oath to Flytton. It is a beautiful old place, and a footman ushers me through tamely paesages and anterooms to the drawing -room, in which I have some tiifn- culty in discovering Lady Flytton—so little, so wizen, so shrunken is she. I make her out at last in a fax corner. I think she is asleep, but she opens her eyes suddenly, and bids me welcome, very kindly desiring the footman to bring white wiue and grapes; while I eat the latter, she chatters away, with the garru- lity of old age, of mother, who was, she says, "a beattitful young woman;" of everything, in short, that. her wondering thought bit upon, Presently she leans back in her chair, and, without the small- est sign or word, goes soundly to sleep. I am just wondering what I am going to do with myself, and thinking how lively it will be herawhen the glass door leading to the garden swings back and Silvia Fleming comes into the room, and, without looking about her,sits downwith her back to no in a low chair. Her hair is hanging down her back in thick curls; she wears a plain white wrapper, that by its severity analses her beauty more than ever con- spicuous. There is a listless droop about the whole figure as she leans back with her arms clasped. under her head. She has not been seated there twenty seconds, when the door opens'and "Captain Chichester" is announced; he is tall, languid,blase,but his steps and face quicken as he spies the recumbent figure in the red velvet chair. "How do you do?" he saysr stooping over her and. holding out his hand; but she does not put out hers; she only looks up at him with a lazy look of welcome, provocation—which is it? "Too hot!" she says; "would not one think it August instead of September ?" He sits down beside her, and they talk in low voices. They do not seem to know any one is present; however, as I cannot hear what they are saying, it is somewhat unnecessary for me to announce myself, though, indeed, I am not anxious -to play the degrading part of eavesdropper again, as I did a week ago. Is yonder coquette the passionate, de- spairing woman that Paul Vasher kissed awhile ago so hotly? Was it but a fine piece of acting—her love and her misery? For surely, surely she is acting her Glyn proper character at this moment? No, she was not acting then, but she was taken out of herself for the time; and Paul's esti- mate of her is the right one; the taint of infidelity in her nature is too deep to per- mit her to be either a good or a faithful woman, Admiration is meat and drink for her, flattery the very air she breathes DO man could keep this woman straight any more than a rope can be made of sand. She does not love this nem to whoni she is talking, does not even admire him' but she will fool him to the top of his bent. A woman's vanity takes many lives to feed it. So much I guess randomly as I it and watch Ler. "Little devil!" says Lady Flytton, soft- ly. Turning to look at the old woman, I find she has come out of her sleep as sud- denly as she entered it, and is surveying the couple yonder with an expression of countenance that is, to say the least of it, vicious. "Good -afternoon. Captain Chichester!" she remarks, austerely. The young man looks round with an astonishment that is ludicrous, rises, and camas towards the old lady. Silvia, I observe, does not move an inch. "I did not know anyone was here, he says,holding out his hand that Lady Flyt- ton altogether overlooks. "I dare say you did not," she says, frostily ; and he goes back to his charmer, looking somewhat red and decidely snub- bed. Tea is brought in and we partake of it apart. Oh, it is dull! If the little woman does not like her company, why does she not leave it? Anon Captain Ohithester takes his departure, aud, it being near the dinner-houtI am shown to my room, where 1 array myself in my little all, and, modestly habited in the same, descend to the drawing -room. Silvia Fleming is tbere, and she speaks some half -words of greeting, giving me the contemptuous, indifferent regard that apparently she always bestows on her own sex. Mrs Fleming comes in, fat and kind: 1 lie her better than her daughter: last of all Lady Flytton; and we go in to dinner, where there is next to no convex- sation,for the hostess devotes herself to her knife and fork with the assiduity of a wo- man who knows her time for wending the same in short, and the other two lam little conversation. In the drawing -room later, the two eiders sit together, knitting and talking, While Silvia's restless Rause paces up aria down the terraced. walk out- side, and 1 sit at a table, turning over a plaotograph-book,and pitying myself from the very bottom of nay soul. "It is too ridiculous," Says Mrs, Flem- ing 's vexed voice, rising in her excite- ment, "and the offers and admiration she has had, too!" "She's a bad little oat" says Lady Viest- ton, shaking her ungodly Madeira -warm- ed old head, "arid she'll never come to any good, never! As to Paul Vasher, he'll never reimay her; he knows her too well for that!" I move -quieldy away before I hear more, /Ind. marvel for the ifinety-ninth time why I was ever invited to Flytton, CHAPTER XIX. A tap at the doot "Como in," 1 say, ' paming in uly wrestle with any bonnet- serings—whioh 1 ant trying to settle in a how that will not disgrace Lady Flytton's smut chariot—and enter Silvia. Appar- ently she is not going to church, for, al- though we start in are minutes' time, she wears a white morning gown and slime re "'Will you do something for me?" she asks, sitting down. 'Tell rue what it is first," I say, cauti- ously. "You know Mr. \ember?" "Will you give hipa this note after church?" look at the hold-out billet, and for a moment hesitate. I love to help lovers; but I like him and do I not like her ; shall I hurt him by taking it? He is strong enough to take care of himself. "Yes, I will give it to him," I say, and put it in my pocket. "You are a good child," she says, and goes away. I wonder if he will be in &lurch? Yes, he is there, as I tasoover twenty minutes later, and he gives me a friendly, look as I go up the aisle behind Mrs. Fleming. That old heathea Lady Flytton never goes to oleurch. The Buffs give me a smile or two, and I wink affectionately at Mary Burns at a favorable opportunity. In the porch outside, when the service is over, I find Mr. Vasher, which is lucky; for sup- posing I had been obligedato run after him? "When are you coming back,little one?" he asks. " Soon! To -morrow sonie time 1" I say, nounderingly, then I thrust the note into his hand and flee. "Did you give it to him?" asks Silvia, as we are walking in the garden after luncheon. e yea:, She speaks truth, the morning was sultry. "How hot it is!" she say, shrugging her shoulders; "there is a storne brewing." The afternoon is worse; the air is charg- ed and heavy with heat the skies are dos- ing in black as night, the very birds have ceased singing; all creation seams to be holding its breath, awaiting one of Nature's fierce convulsions. With the same instinct that has sent all the animals to their hiding -places I go heleaving Silvia peeing up and down, with clasped hands, an in - tont look of listening upon her face. I am ; not ashamed to confess it, I am horribly, terribly afraid of a thunder -storm; the , dread crack of the awful, invisible hosts ' above always makes me shiver, and through my eyelids the lightening seems to strike and. bind me. After all, I must be a coward, for Jack does not mind it at all; he opens his eyes wide, and never puts , his lingers to his ears. The sisters are fast . asleep in a remote corner of the queer - shaded, many -angled room; every now , and then a gentle snore attests their happy unconsciousness. When I am old, I dare say I shall consider it a godly and suitable employment to spend my Sabbath afternoons in slumber; being young and broadly awake, And the time hangs very heavily on my hands. I take a peep at , "Good Words;" I look as the pictures in ' the "Sunday at Home," •finally I take up Lady Flytton's album, which I have in- deed already explored, but still find inter- esting, thanks to the extraordinary un - handsomeness of her friends and relations, her defunct husband bearing the palm away from them all for general unsavori- nese, imbecility, and grimace. I am just grinning at the photograph of a very short man, who has a most ferocious expression of countenance, and looks as though he were saying, "laugh at me if you dare!" when the door opens and Paul Vasher is anpounced. The sisters do not awake, and he does not see me. In another moment he is face to face with Silvia, who comes hastily through the glass door. "You sent for me," he says," and I have come." "Come out into the garden," she says abruptly. And they go out together, along the terrace and disappear among the trees. An hour slips away, the light falls strangely; the skies are of ink, save where a lurid - tipped cloud betokens mischief ; every leaf, and tree, and flower, stands stirless; there is not a living thing to be seen. Steps come quickly along the terrace, and Paul Vasher comes in alone. I am half leaping up to speak to bim, when something in his face checks ino, and I fall back; in another moment he is gone. The closing door awakens Lady Flytton, who sits up, and asks sharply: "Who was that just went out?" "Mr. Vasher.' "Vasher here !" screams the old wo- man. "Has that little oat been up to some more of her tricks? Well, he didn't stay long!" And she composes herself to sleep again. "Waal snoring, at ild?" asks Mrs. Flem- ing, with some anxiety. "Not much!" Hark! A few drops of rain, heavy as lead, fall with hissing sound upon the pavement; a low faint moan comes sweep- ing up over the land and now, with an awful, shivering reverberation, the heavens are rent in twain, the forked lightning leaps out, the flood gates of heaven are loosed, and the storne is upon us. I bury ma head in my hands to shut out the glare of the lightning, but through the hideous discord I hear Mrs. Fleming's voice ask, in fear, "Where is Silvia?" Out yonder; out in the fury and teeth of the storm, as recklesseas wild as the hur- ricane itself; and God only knows what depths of misery and shame she is sound- ing! Paul Vasher's face was not hard to read. And child as I am I know that she has played her last stake and lost In her present mood she will court death, if I know anything of her character. Some ono must find her, and bring her back. But who? I will: My life out there is as much in God's hands as here; and though I do not love her, I would, do this much for my worst enemy. I take my hands from my eyes'snatch up a shawl lying near, and heedless of MTS. Fleming's exclamations of horror, step mit on the ter- race. Down comes the water -spout in its resistless :strength, almost beating me to earth; blinded with lighttaing, deafened with thunder, bewildered by the hurly- burly, I push on, looking hither and thither, in every nook and corner, but I cannot find her. Stronger and fiercer grows the storm. At my side a tree, smitten in mid-air by an unseen hand, is whirled aloft, and hurled crushing to the ground, terabibt, strack dead by lightning lies in any path; overhead, from end. to end of heaven, whom that long, hone -vie shuddering peal that always saunas tome like the shrieks and wild laughter of lost souls in Hades. At last I corn° upon he; sitting ander a tree in a far-off corner, looking out at the atom as indifferently as though it were a pageant arranged. fox, her special amusement. "Silvia!" I 'say, while yet a little way' off, "Silvia I" But she never sties, nester lifts her head, or unclasps her hands, et ,seems to know any voice, while all about her lie the wreck *marlin at the wild hur- ricane, and a few yards cesvey an oak , • . Area witl 1jgitnjig stailde ghastly, stri ea of all Ifs bara. stepping towel. J, her, allele 0 my :1, !— the heavens abe tk, as opens a are 1ight shinue upon our 'fees, mei, (Amy ee the air there rushes Willard as a great e vas= ball of atm°. I slit my eyes, and staud motionless: is not thie desalt' an,, weth a hiss and a whirle' aid with a la breath that scorehea, flee, it 's the ground at say fee and a great smoke belthes forth, and hal , everything frome my oyes. Dimly 1 g, ‘i,P7 way round to the other side; 1 tun 1 1Uled there -- fore Silvia must be 13 a looking just as she looked re e bolt fell. "Alive ancl unharmed, thank God!" cry, taking her oold hand in mine, "If it had only killed inc!' she says in a whisper, pointing her linebar at the sullen flames; "if I had been only one step near- er...a, " Come away!" I say, gently, and she does not resist, but lets me lead her away like a ohild. Her face is pale as the dead; her lovely eyes look straight before her, as though they behold only one object; her hair hangs damp and heavy down her drip- ping back. Au uncommonly- nice couple we look as ITO roach the house, with pools of water running from our olothes; as beaten down and draggled as yonder poor ' &mem that lio with broken stalks in, their churned -up beds. I Mrs. Fleming shrieks at her daughter's 1 face—and, indeed, she might well have taken some grievous hurt out in the storm to judge by her looks—but the girl pulls herself wearily away. I "Leave me alone," she says, and goes slowly up the stairs, to the great embel- lishment of her aunt's carpeting, and I follow. On the landing she turns round. "Come into my room, by and by," she says. I have slipped out of my wet clothes, and am almost attired in dry ones, when Mrs. Fleming comes in,bearing a tumbler of hot wine, whith she makes me drink. It tastes very good, but surely it is rather strong. She goes away a,nd I proceed with my toilet; but somehow I don't seem to be qulte mistress of my lege and in crossing the room I have to tack a good deal. My ideas, too, are very hazy. I find myslf sur- veying various articles of my attire with a benignant and fixed smile, instead of putting them on; and lam by and by dis- tinctly conscious that, with no apparent volution of my own e am standing before my looking glass, swaying from side to side, and saying, in an indistinct voice, "My intention is good, Jack, but my logs is weak." And after that I know nothing, save that I am blessedly, soundly asleep. The clock is striking seven as I awake, and Mrs. Fleming is looking amen on me with some anxiety. "What does it allmean?" I say,rubbing my eyes; " I never went to sleep like this in the daytime before. Was it the thunder- bolt?" "No," says Mrs. Fleimng," I think it was thwine. I put brandy in it to keep out the cold and forgot you were not -used to it." "And so I have been tipsy," I say, putting my hand to my head; "oh, what would papa say if he could see me?" "Say it' was my fault," says Mrs. eming. now, my dear, don't trouble about that; can you go to Silvia now? She has been asking for you." "I will be ready in a minute; but Mrs. Fleming,you will never tell any one about it, will you?" Never, she says, smiling, and goes away. To my knock at Siliva's door, I receiv- ed no answer ; pushing it open I entered, She is standing by a window, looking at the smoke that rises from the spot where the bolt lies imbedded. She is talking to herself, and does uot seem to see or hear me, although I am before her eyes. "I was wrong to wish it had killed me," she utters; "after all, it's a stupid thing to do—to die. Talk of the proud contempt of spirits risen, it is the living who have the best of it, and despise the dead. If I had. died to -day, the women who hate me would have AtLi poor creature!' Pe would have said, 'Poor Silvia,.' I should have been poor Silvia, a weak loving fool to all etenity to him. I will live !—live to pun- ish the scorn and coolness that has dared repay such love as mine—live to m.alse him rue the day he made Silvia Fleming stoop to pray in vain. When he leasts ex- pects me, I will be there; in the hour of his joy, I will stand by his side and strike the cup from his lips; in his night of sor- row, I will rejoice over him—and since I cannot have his love. I will work his mis- ery—and. this I will do, so help me God!" The last lurid gleam of the storni is on her set face, and in her wide eyes. Ha,s the afternoon actually crazed her !man? " Are you there, child?" she says, turn- ing round sharply. "Flay° you heard all She nonsense I bavo been. talking?" "Some of it." "Bah!" she says; "I have a had habit of talking aloud. You were a good. little thing to come out and find me like that; it would not have been pleasant to be kill- ed by thatbolt, eh?' ' "No," I say, shuddering; "but it WaS very near, a narrow escape. Have you told Mrs. Flaming!" "Not I! How that old. woraaaa, my aunt, would have hopped if elm had seen it all! That red thing coming through the air, you and I witleour menthe wide open, at least yours was—" She goes off into a fit of laughter, that does not strike ane as being particularly scantly. " You can go now," she says; "will you send my mother lip to me?" Truly Silvia Fleming has somewhat odd manners. Down in the thawing -room I ilnd the sisters looking out of the win- dow at the desolation of the gaxclen, and, having delivered my message to Mrs. Fleming, proceed to inform Lady Flytton of the shave we had, to width sbe listens with many upliftings of her hands and ex- clamations. "And all that little cat's fault," she says. "Whatever will your mother say, when sho hears that I took so little can of you? As to that Silvia, it's my belief that's she is being saved up fee, something worse!" Frere. "He Is Aire to come beek Be- side, he left all his things here," Taat is conclusive, for however heartbroken a num may be, he does not asually forget his dressing -case and, his little coanforte. "The ground is good for walking just uow," says Mr. lexei:e. "I dare say he has • ' got as Las' as Devonsbire." Yes, the ground is good for walking, b ;I think all roads aro pretty much alike tq ltill jliSt now. As 1 sib staring in to the ft I seem to see Mr. Vasher walking 1ft and fast, trying th escape from his alms thoughts; trying to quenoll flame that will not be put out. PshaVe Probably I me n myth &rid a, fallacy and at this very moment he is dancing a jig or— "Aro you asleep?" asks a oheerful voice behind me. "You have emit° back!" 1 cry, stating up; "how glad I am! We were beginning to think you were lost!" As the firelight falls on his faoe I see that it is mile and worn as that of a man who had fought a battle against fierce odds, and, "Whore is my uncle?" he says, looking round. "He was here a minute ago, but Mrs. Phn fetched him to go to Sally Lane, who says she is dying" "I wonder how long she will be about it?" "She has been dying for twenty years," I say, laughing; "and she will probably be dying for twenty more! Dying with her means port." "Does my uncle give her a bottle to soothe her last moments?" "Always! About once a month, you know; and she is far too carefel a body to go off until she has drunk the last drop; then the thought of the next bottle sup- poris her." • Mr. Neither laughs. "Do you know," he says"that I have missed you, child, during 'these past weeks? Over and over again I have wished I had your saucy chatter to listen to. What have you been doing iwith yourself—anything paricu- ler?" "Something very partioular," I say, sol- emnly; "or at least--ahnost It is a mir- acle you do not find Miss Fleming's pieces and mine laid out in baskets." "What do you mean?" he asks sharply. "You have been in clanger—and Silvia?" "It was a thunderbolt," I explain; "she and I were only a few yards apart, and it fell between us." (To BE CONTINUED.) CHAPTER X. "I wonder i/ Pani will come to -night?" says Mrs, Frere, stirring the fire With a recklessness highly reprehensible in a god- ly 711t111 during those day e of greedy coal merchants and • charepagne-drinking col - hers. It is rainy October now, and the nights are cold and frosty, and, without, Mother Ita,rth is drawing the flowers, her darling, 'down into her 'imam bromt, as Hans Anderset tells us, stivay from the Frost- Xing's breath,whieetatrikes chilly 'natant the tender green stal Ise, and late tarrying f nois sias, myrtles, wed magnolias, "I don't think he is coming 1.):1(11.: nt all!" 1 say, nodding; "he has been gone each a long, long time, you know --e weeks I" "Patti always keeps his Word)" says , • • , • - • _ _ eta_austeadeseeetieeeeeelae MORMON SOCIAL CONDITIONS. Advantages o t Town Life Blended with the Charms of Dural Existence. Social changes of a marked character will be wrought ley the occupation of the ericl region. In this matter also Mormon experience is 11 luminous. Brigham. Young -'ought to found his prosperity not only on Industrial ethie,s, but also upon the happi- leas of the people. He would not tolerate etleness, and the wens of cobblestones e 111 standing in the older portions of Salt lake City were invented that the church 7r ight pay for the labor of men who would • .therwise have been temporarily supported hy charity. As a means of furnishing Lertainment, various diversions were panned including the Saturday night dance, led by the bishops of the wards. The leader's wisdom is almost as clearly exhibited in his social scheme as in his palni of industry. The central idea in it was the farm -village. .A. village site, gen- caally a half -mile square, is selectedin the midsb of a tract of 5,000 or 6,000 acres to be colonized. In Utah there are many small valleys between the towering raountains and the village site is generally located near the centre, andnear the river from which the water is diverted into canals on each side at a sufficient elevation to command the irrigable lands. The half a square mile is then laid out into blocks of four acree, with broad avenues between and the blocks are divided into lots of an acre each. On these lots the farmers have their homes. Here also are their commodi- ous barns. Hero they have their poultry and swine, while considerable space is de- voted to a market -garden. The farmer than has hie farm on the outlying lands, which are diyided into lots ranging from Iwo acres up th twenty acres. From the public park in the centre to the farthest outlying farm is only two and a half miles. Most farmers traverse a much shorter distence to reach the farm from their homes. On the other hand, the woman and eaildren enjoy the important advantage of having near neighbors,while the ohurch, sehool house, stores, and post - office are near at hand. Under this system the advantages of town life are blended to a very considerable degree with the charms of rural existence. It is a system full of delightful peesibilities. The Mormons have realized its substantial advantages in neighborhood association ; but their model will be much improved upon by many col- onies of more recent establishment. Farm life under the old conditions has involved isolation. The hunger for human sym- pathy and company has driven thousands from the country to cities already over- crowded. This factor is responsible for many a social tragedy, as well as for the problems which have arisen in congested eity populations. There is is* reason why farm -villages patterned after those of 'Utah should have a social life and an outward beauty quits as pleasing at for instauce, the suburbs of Boston. There the architecture MOMS al- most uniformly pleasing. Attractive lawns, with trees, vines, and Rowers, are everywhere. People of small means will be able to careened theaaselves with simi• lar advantages in the farm -villages of the arid regions, while realizing all the bene- fits of independence and equality insepar- able from the industrial scheme of irriga- tion—a' The Conquest of Arid America," by William F. Smythe in the May Cen- tury. An Expensive Swiss Frock. The Swiss oraorgandie gown of the Fronde dreesmakor cannot be laundered unless it is -ripped up, though the French scourers manage to clean it. It lase anuch more easila wrinkled than a silk gauze that when it is macle tip with silk it is one of the most expetisive gowns that can be purchanta. Pale rose-colered and deli- cate willow -game Swim ittuslins dotted with pin dabs of black, and triminecl wible many rows of narrow black thread lace, snake plotureeque and efeective summer afternoon gewns. These are finished with wide hatIlg *Al the bottom of a plain, chatt- ier skirt, Hata with silk of pale rose -color or green, ead finished with full gathered bodicee, hie in inch tucks, separated by vertical ram of black lace in inch width. atruilar rens of lace stripe the full puffed onion. deem:, Which are plaited in at the arm -holo tc inch plaits that moot on the $latiltter is ette mut effeet t1A the 'MIAMI fr The etweiglet, 8t(lnk Ctillar is finiS110(1. ()It each alai by Paquin points of rose thstin verge with tiny double ruffles of bleek theette lace. THE FARM AND GARDEN, }tins AND NEWS NOTES For City and Country—Olippinge and • Origioal A.rtteles Witten Have Been Prepared for Our Readers. A correspondent of the Ohio Farmer say that it is the best to keep pigs steady growing from the start, not crowding so fat as to break down part of the system, and cause a more serious cheek from mod- erate feeding. No farmer can ligure out a ration for young and growing pigs. He can compute the necessary ingredients, but just how much they will eat is beyond his judgment. The exact quantity that will be consumed can only be arrived at day by day as they are fed. For growing the pig should have much succulent food, grass of various kinds in their season, ansi along with the grass, grain products, rich in the albuminoids, whole wheat or the by-products of wheat; oil meal can often profitably be used with these ground foods. The rapid process that we must follow to gee the greatest profit out of swine makes it necessary that the pigs have more than grass timing the summer months. They will make a profitable gain on grass alone. One great objection to grass alone lies in the fact that the grass is not always sweet and tender; the weather is not always favorable for the continuous rapid growth of the grasses. If they have grain foods continuously these breaks in the supply of young, fresh grass can bo bridged over without check- ing the pigs growth. Many farmers who grow a few pigs de- pend bo much on the slop from the kitehen and the waste products of the dairy. This is variable in quantity and quality, and cannot be depended on for a regular full feed. We always want some middlings or other mill product to mix with this supply of slop. The slops should be fed. at regular times, not when the farmer's attention is called to them be- cause the buckets are full and muse oe emptied. Twice a day, at least, it should be fed; if allowed to stead longer in A. writer in the Tribune fears that pee-, pie are losing interest in poultry keeping. Several long -published poultry journals have recently been discontinued, presem- ably from lack of patrortage. No wonder a long-suffering public: should wearY of the coustant pufthag of fancy breeds and exaggerated statements of profit made in the business. But other causes must exist, for some of the defunct poultry papers were really good in their way. Number- less novices have learned by disappoint- ing experience that they had expected too much. Two things they are uot slow to learn. First—That they cannot make their hens pay if kept in confineraent ; and second, that they cannot make anything else pay if they let them run at large. Why don't they let pass all the flummery of the poultry cranks about features and rnark- ing points and scores, and go in for meat and eggs by keeping the old-fashioned,un- pretentious creeper fowls? They don't need an exceptionally high fence if conlin- ed,and they won't do much damage with- out restraint. Keeping poultry was never a remmakbly lucrative occupation, and profit declines as numbers kept together increase, until it oftens diasppears entire- ly. But a small flock of sensible hens may be retied upon to pay something,and ntore or less according to the common sense their keeper possesses aud uses. HOW TO RAISE PIGS., warm weather it soon beeornes sour and unfit for pig food. Soar slop is note 'beue- tory of the tree. That there are nursery - halal food for pigs or old hogs. In feeding men by hundreds who grow trees to sell wn- pigs there is a right and wrong way. One cheap, conducting their business as do . right swindlers, iannot be denied, but it general error is the irregularity with Is equally true that a large majority of which they are fed. If they are fed twice a day, or three times, it should be at statenurserymen are conscientious and solioiti- d : ous for the fullest success of all the stook times each day, and these times should vary as little as possible. Changing one sent out, and look carefully to the best in- hsaf hour each day, at one or more times; . terost of their customers. They know how to handle and protect stock,and would not of feecling, can but be injurious to the ; pigs. We know this will be accepted as permit such gross carelessness, and in nine folly by some that feed enough at one times out of teu an investigation will time for a whole day, or if they are feeding show the failures arise from tho outrage - pt all corn in the fall when work is mat sing, ous slovenliness of anters. throw out at one time enough for two or LIVE STOOK NOTES. three days. We must differ from these in n their old-style way of feeding, because we A Missouri farmer writes ithe St. Louis Journal of Agriculture that he finds certainly believe there is a better way. goats profitable for lough land filled with Regular feeding in such quantities as they weeds and bushes. He has had goats for will eat clean and will keep the hogs in e - better health and give better returns for four years, and thehave destroyed the labor expended and food consumed. bushes sumach and small persimmon trees. His hogs have been free from dis- CULTURE OF ROSES. ease, while all around him farmers who An expert of great experience writes to did not keep goats lost most of their hogs by cholera. The writer says that the the Country Gentleiaan that as spring is meat of young goate is better than mut- e better season than eall for planting roses a few notes concerning these beautiful plants will be opportune at this season. We are much favored in this latitude in being able to grow out of doors, without winter protection, many tea roses and others which are partly tender in situa- tions north of this; and these are the best of all roses, in my opinion for, wihle not producing as large individual flowers as the hardier June roses do, they bloom all through the season, are sweet scented, and form nice buds for cutting for in -door use. The Bourdon and hybrid teas are included with them. Among the hardiest of these I would name the following: Appoline, Hermosa, Malmaison, .Archduke, Charles Louise Odier, Homer, Souvenir d'un Ami, Sonabrieul, LaFrance and Duchess of Albany. These live out here with more or less of permanency, without any cover- ing at all. They get partly winter -killed, but as this class needs close pruning in spring, they are none the worse for it. Where winters are deemed too severe to allow the plants to be entirely unprotect- ed, quite sufficient covering will be given by placing two or three spadefuls of earth about the crown of each plant, so that three or four inches of wood is covered. This insures the life ef the covered parts, and when spring cotaes the plants push out strongly, and the flowers come. Not only could the list maned be saved in this way, but a great variety of others also, the varieties in these classes being numer- ous. If not practicable to preserve the plants in any way, a great deal of satisate- tion may be had by purchasing 'dents in the spring. beeong young plants can be haa for ss smail stMli which, if planted out, melee will bloom all through the sea - eon, I much prefer these °vet blooming roses to any other. Unluckily for us in tile North they are not perfectly hardy. What are called hybrid perpetual roses are singularly misnamed, as they aro by no m eons perpetual. They are the hardy June roses, a bush or two at least of which ban be eouial in nearly all gardens. Their hardiness recommends them. The class will be recognized by mentioning the names of some well-known ones in it. They are Alfred Clolomb, American Beauty, Anne de Dimbach, Baron de lionsbetben, Charles Lofebrc, Maher Relines, Itrancoi Micheloin Gen. Jacque- minot, Jean Litsbaud, John Hopper, La Beine, Madame fatizet Matulee 'Bernard - In, Paul aTeyeon, Victor Verdi& and Xavier Olibe. This Is bat a small portion of the number of excellent tangs in this elass but these are well -tried cams, and a goodassortment In the way of pilltar roses, there is but one beside the kinds whiole bloom but once, even bore. The exception is the climbing tea rose, Gloria do Dijon. This beautiful ana fragrant rose is hardly with us, even on the sunny side of a building, and no doubt it could had 'to live out farther north than this were it to be planted on the shady side, or in some way protected from the sunlight in winter. Of those which bloom in June only there are the Crimson Baumann, Prairie Queen, 13altimore Belle, Wild Prairie Rose and Gem of the Prairie. Where it is simply a pillar to be covered, • there are some of the half olimbing hybrid perpetuals which ecu be used. Ulrich runner, Gen. Jacqueminot, Jules Margot - tin and Victor Verdier will answer very well. There is a somewhat new class, knOW12 as Polyantlus roses, introduced fromjapan, which contains some useful sorts. The foliage and flowers sue both small. The flowers are produced in panicles. Having been crossedor hybridized with teas and other kinds, a list of valuable sorts has resulted, and they are as least as hardy as the hardiest of the teas. Of slender growth toad everblootning character they axe be- coming great favorities few of them are: Little Pet, Paquerette, Cecile Benner and Clothilde Souperb. The last named is especially fine. Among miscellaneous roses, the yellow briar, Rosa, harrisone must be named. It is perfectly hardy, and bears its semi -double yellow flowers freely every moment. The red and the white Russian roses have come to be veoll liked. They are so hardy, have such beau- tiful -looking, healthy foliage, and their large single fiowerse are attraotive. Then their large red berries in. the summer and autumn are great charms. TRANSPLANTING TREES. , The Farm, Field and Fireside very truthfully says that most people seem to have an idea that a tree is never injured or that it never, never can be killed after it leaves the nurseryman; at leaset their treatment of it seems based on that idea. It is the easiest thing in the world to tell whether a tree is dead or the roots are lifeless when delivered. Cut into them and if the bark in fresh and reasonably moist and bright to the wooa, and than properly imbeded in moist earth, it is sure to live, but every moment that it is exposed and left in a drying wind, the chances are multiplied agannst it. The roots of a tree injured by exposure are always dry and shrivelled, and the centre devoid of sap. Examine them carefully before receiving them, and than see to it that the injury is not clone after- ward. If the trees are supplied with wet straw and closely wrapped with a wet old blanket or cloth th exclude currents of air, they can be carried any distance safely. When the tree is dormant, its blood (sap) circulates whether roots are in or out the ground, and only needs moisture to live on like an hibernating animal. Just as long as there is fat on the ribs, air to breath and, sleep, the bear flourishes, but when active life returns, food must be fortheonaing or it will quickly perish. When the roots of a plant or tree become very dry, the sap becomes waxy and fills the grain in the wood like a varnish, so that the impediment remains to bother the sap circulation to such an extent that lal.ou.bt 12 11 ever regains the same vigor a the tree in •which a thrifty growth has al: wags been maintained. The removal from the nursery to the final home is the critical time in. the his - ton. The wool of sheep is now worth so little that the question is worth thinking of whether a few gc:aes may not be kept with profit on rough land unsuited to cul- tivation in some of the Fastoria States. The price of beans is usually muoh above their feeding value, and as no stook except sheep will eat them without being forced to do so not many- beans are used for feeding. But in every crop of beans there will be some that will be stained and unsalable, while losing none of their nutri- tive value. So few farmers now keep sheep that these refuse beans mostly go to waste. This need not be. If beans are ground and mixed with other grain they will be eaten by hogs and else by cattle, and their nutrition will be fully made use of. Beans and corn ground together make a better ration than grounsi corn alone. The bean is a nitrogenous food, and It supplements the excess. of carbonaceous matter in the corn. We have fed boiled beans unground to hogs until they- gradu- sily to like them. But it is better to grind the beans, giving a very' little with the corn meal and grailually increas- ing the quantity. (I A record of experience with the e gr. - cultural College herd in Massaohusette is given in a recent report from which car- tain practical conclusions are drawn. In the first place, it is held to be unsafe to purchase animals from a herd where • tuberculosis has existed. Poor sanitary surroundings, poor ventilation and in- sufficient light conduce to the development of the disease, Infeeted stables spread it; cracks and angles in the mangers hold the infection, and it is difficult: to destroy germs with the strongest disinfecting fluid. Diagnosis byphysical exa°minati ns ' held to be impossible. Tuberculin is de - dared an extrently d.elioate and reliable test. It will indicate its existence in the lunge or other organs when obeectiye symptoms are absent and no germs found in the mucus. The test is not fol- lowed by permanent ill effects. It is true, 0, in somo cases, that it produces a marked rise an the temperature when no other tubeeculos is exists, end iii sem a others where 5 is present he Well-defined re-ao- tion mum. Nor atqw4 re-aotiort bear dose relation to the extent of the disease, It la impossible to formulate rules to indicate surely by variations te. temperartme thei existence of the disease; yet tuberoulism the only means found for eradicating it. ,:=7=1323.0 A „s 44: