The Exeter Advocate, 1895-9-27, Page 24
COMM THRO' THE RYE
BY HELEN I. leBTSIERS.
(coNT.NuED.)
"I cannot I say, slowly; "it ie all too
sudden. I do not forigve you; would you
leave itle tell a lie? A.ntl. you seem to lesve
fergotten what lies between- us --how eau
there be any shadow of friendship between
ite?"
"I do net ask for frleedehip," she seys,
baok lawn the pillows.
Hew pale and lost and lovely she looks!
No Wonder Paul fouud, it In his heart to
piVY nor juet now.
"Do you know," she says, opening her
eyes, "that et is yoa who should as for-
giveness of me, not 1 of you? Paul was
mine fleet, do not forget that, and he
alight neve beeu mine again, it you had
not bewitched him; if I stole him from
yon last, you stole him from me first.
How did you maim him love you.so well?"
she cries, with a low wail; "whether with
you or away from you, it was always the
serne—you were the very apple of his eye.
Men are not ueually so faithful to the ab-
sent, or so cold to a beautiful woman who
loves them. And all these years that I
have been his wife he has never spoken one
word to me, save before sarvauts—never
toothed my hands in commonest friendly
greeting. I came behind him once and
put my arms around Ins neck; he started
up—you h ould have seen his face, there
was murder in. he left me without a
word—and for all of this I haw ta thank
you, Helen Adair! Oh I it is pleasant to
steal into his room, like a thief, in • the
dead of night, an1 hear him ory, 'Nell!
Nene over and over again, and toss his
outstretched arms into the air; often as I
have watohed and listened, I never yet
beard him whisper, ‘Siliva 1'"
doep pity wells up from my heart as I
look down on this passionate, sinful wo-
man, between whose lips the fruits of evil-
doing have turned to such bitter dust and
ashes. Has not God punished her heavily
enough for me to forego ney little impotent
condemnation?.
"If I had known how it would be I
never would have tricked him into marry-
ing me—never. I thought that if I was
his wife I should regain all my old empire
over him; no man ever withstood rae yet.
My one heart's desire was to make him
love me again, then I should have known
happiness at last. Happitiess! good. God(
though 1 have alwayshated the very name
of Death, I shall not be sorry when he
calls sne; only I dread the old, narrow
bondage, and the thought of the blind -
worms creeping over ray breast—pah!
"Will you give me some of that medi-
cine? I sent that fussy doctor away; he
was no good, and I know the proper reme-
dies. Thank you. told them just now
to send my—"
"Mammal mammal" says a gentle
little voice outside the door which opens
softly, and on the threshold stands Paul's
son, and Silvia's. A. breathless calm binds
me hand and foot as he stands still for a
moment, heseitating, then comes on his
little unsteady feet, straight across the
room to my side, looking up into my face
with Paul's own proud, wilful, beautiful
brown eyes. And still I do not stir, until,
perplexed, he lifts a tiny, dimpled hand
and slips it inside mine—and the clinging
baby fingers touch some strange, till now
unknown chords deep in my heart— I
tremble, and a passion of new born love,
fierce regeet and bitter pain shakes melike
reed, and I bow my head low over the in-
nocent, ebeldish face. Nay, Silvia, it is
you who nave conquered. not I.
To this unsoiled treasure, "fresh from
God," you are mother, not L Through all
my years of misery, I have never once felt
the loss of my loyer as I feel it now, while
any arms close around his son.
"You like children?" says Silvia, as the
boy slips away trom me and clambers over
the be; "I never did."
"Pitty mamma!" says the child, pulling
at her loose hair, "piety mamma!" but he
does not kiss her or lay his face against
hers nor does she hold out her arms to
him. Silvia spoke the truth, she has no
mother -instinct whatever.
"And do you not love him?" I ask.
"No. I might have, perhaps,•if he had
been any link betvreen nae and his father,
but he was the one erovvning misdemeanor
for which my husband never forgave me.
was told he went on like a madman
-when he heard it. I never loved but one
person in my life, and that was Paul."
"Was there over such a shameless wo-
xnan?" I say to snyself, looking at her.
The deathly pallor bas left her face, her
breathing is quieter, and the bluish tint of
her lips is replaced by a tinge of color. I
look at the child; they make a beautiful
pair. Ile has his father's eyes, his mother's
skin, her golden bair, his father's mouth
and chin, with a haughty trick of bolding
his head, that brings Paul before sny eyes.
Father and son, son and father, how my
heart aches for you both l—the consolation
that the one might afford the other, the
love the other might give the one. , Some-
how the touch of the little hands has
smoothed all the resentment and unforgiv-
bigness out of my heart. I could not, if I
would, speak such words to his mother as
I did awhile ago.
"I feel better now," she says, wearily;
"I shall not die this time, at any rate.
Tell me now, once for ail, will you forgive
me?"
"Ye I will forgive you," ("for the
child's sake," I added to myself.)
"You will?" she cries, sitting up; "you
are net pretending?"
"Why should I?" I ask, steadily; "are
you?"
"Not" she says, dropping her eyes;
"only I did not think :my woman living
could be so noble, And you will speak to
me when I meet you; you will come to see
raeS"
"We are not likely to meet, and I will
not come to see you, Friends we cannot
bo; no, nor acquaintances."
"Then your forgiven ss is an empty form
of words," she says, falling back; "I need
not have praised you for it. Shall I tell
you why you extend to me the form of for-
giveness and not the spirit?" she asks,
lifting herself upon her elbow. "Stall
tell yen why you will not come here? Be-
cause you are afraid of your own heart."
There is an instant's silence, in which
Satan vshispers, "What! Acknowledge
your own weakness and his?" and nay good.
angel cries, "Confess it, and be not led
into temptation ;" than I answer coldly:
"You are mistaken, terra Vashor; I am no
snore likely to forget that he is year hus-
band than he is to forget what is due to
inc. No, Tam. not afraid to meet bins."
"Then sometimes, not often, perhaps,
but sometimes you will come here? You
will. not keep up an op.en Welty?"
"Sometimes t" I sayeagainst My better
Instincts; them looking ,suddenly into her
face, "Silvia, are youhquite certain that
wbatevet of sin and sratiferfetge there has
been in your past, you rime mean fairly
and honestly by hie and ye= husband? Is
theta any fresh plotting of wiekedness •in
yeee heart?"
' Doter a dying vssetriall Weave:plots?" the
from mils:). "Is there any farther herrn
that 1 eau work you, him, ex* neyeelf?
Your heart is not a soft one, Helen. Adair,"
Ear a minute I stand musing, and the
and pulle at uty dress; he is tired of the
quiet room, and wants to go Away.
" Wade takes to you," she says, looking
at him; "though he never liked stran-
gers."
The ohmage in her voice brings ine bank
to commonplaces,
"Is that his name? I am going now.
Good,by."
- She stretches out ber thin hand and lays
it in mine; a queer sometime runs through
me as I look down at in—the hand that
worked my life's misery so deftly and
well.
"You have promised," she says; "(IQ that lie Great Britain we ore supposed . to
not forgot. You Lave promised to mine be three females against every male? No
here sometimes and see me and. Wattle." wonder men think so much of themselves;
"I shall not forget." no wonder It is considered more honorable
She °loses her eyes, and, as we pass out in a yam% woman to possesa as betrothed
of the room, I parthe to look at her, thinkher lord, ever so pockmarked, broken-
ing that she looks more lils.e a dead wo- winded, weak-kneed, soft-breined a titan,
man than a living one, In the corridor than none at all! And Fate, with her un -
outside several servants are standing. ' fair fashion of lumping her favors, has a
"That's Miss Adair," says one of them, bad kneels of giving two or three lovers to
In a very low voice, as I pass; "her as oue girl who wants none of them, and.
master's so sweet on." DeVer a one to another girl who vvorild say
Have we any secrets from the detectives thank you. for any little 111alln1kill. '
who eat our salt, take our wages, and do
heattie trots along ler my"Dolly seems to be amusing herself very
our bidding?
well," says George; and I look across to
side, the nurse follows, at the foot of the
stairs we meet Paul Vasher.
CHAPTER X.
Time, four o'olook. Scene, a level sweep
of velvet smooth lawn before The Towers she is looking up, half shyly, half pleasant -
upon which are peeing up tutd down and ' ly, at a very tall, good-lookingyoung man,
sitting about some sixty or seventy man I whom one would, at a moderate guess,
and women of every size, make, age and.1 suppose to be a trifle shorter than Chang.
appearance), and. among them in festive 1 "He is a giant," I say, looking at the
raiment, like unto the rest. are—oh, won -1 mane' not Dolly. "Why, he must be near
der of wonders !—Dolly and I, sitting one • eight foot."
on either side of Mrs. Skipworth. That i "Not quite," says George; "In foot, he
lady, as a delicate compliment to the de -1 is only six feet four and a half. He is
roaring heat of the day, wears a hemsens 1 Molyneux of the Fifty."
colored silk gown, that makes one glow 1 "I wish they would stand up; I should
freshly every time one looks at her. , like to see what they look like together,"
"You here?" exolaims a young man, I I say with interest. "Dolly was measured
who is walking slowly by, hut has now I
yesterday, and she is exactly four feet
stopped short to stare at us. "Nell! el•ever°"
•
Dolly!" 1 "And she will bowl him over like a
"Did you ever see us before?" I ask, 1 rdnee"those little bitsln," says George;
rather tartly, "do you take us for 1 of women always bewitch these big men."
ghosts?" ( "They would look very 0100 11 they went
"Not exactly," he says, recovering him- to a fancy dress bell; he as Tom Thumb,
self, "only I did not expect to see you and she as the Kentucky giantess, would.
they not? But I do hope that he will not
He shakes hands with Mrs. Shipworth, be falling in love with Dolly."
and looks about for a chair, but, as the "Why not?"
supply of seats by no means comes up to "Because," 1 say thoughfully, "I have
the demand, after a little search he ;somas a plan in isle, head about Dolly; I have
back. inade up in my mind whom I should like
"Would you not rather stroll about than her t° marry'"
sit still, Nell?" "And who may that be? I did not know
"I think I would." that Dolly had ever seen anybody 1"
"'Will you come, Dolly?" "George," I say, lowering my voice,
But Dolly, bearing in mind the excel].- "will you promise not to be angry with
ent lines that set forth that "two is oom- me?"
patty, three is trumpery" declines the "Don't try me too far."
honor, so we depart without her. "Well, then, don't you think Dolly is a
"May I ask why you looked so as- little like me, George?"
tonished just now when you saw nee" I "Not a bit! No one would ever know
ask; "is there anything so very exTraor- you were sisters 1"
dinary in our coraing here, pray?" "Oh I" I say, disappointedly. "Don't
"Nothing!" he says, coldly; "only you you think, though, that on the whole.
had not told nse you wore coming, that blue eyes 81:0 prettier than green ones, and
was all." 1 rosy cheeks than pale ones?"
"And how could I tell you, when I have , "To some people's taste they matobe."
not seen you for three whole days? I will 1 "But not to yours?"
tell you the truth," I say, suddenly, my
voice failing; "1 hate being here; I hate "Oh I" I say again, dismally.
it, but I could not get out of it. Mr. " You have not told me yet what youare
Tasher asked the governor to let us come going to make mo aengry about?"
without my knowing anything about it, "I ean't tell you," I say, slowly, "Yes,
of course, and. papa said 'Yes,' and told ns "Yes, I will, though ; I only thought,
he had accepted the invitation, Dolly de- George," (this in a prodigious hurry),
(tiered she would not come, she is a good "that—for she is very sweet, you knoW,
hater; mother got out of it in some won- and a hundred times as pretty as ever 1
derful manner, but all our maneuvers was—that perhaps, after a bit, you might
were unavailing, and, here we are." get to like her as well as you did. ine?"
"It was a pity your father never knew "Did? Was there ever any past tense in
the truth," says George; "it seems alto- ray love for you? You remind me, Nell,"
gether wrong that you should be the guest he goes on, looking at me with half -sad,
of a wornan who played you so vile a half -bitter eyes, "of a story I onoe heard
part." of a man who proposed for a young lady
"Hush!" 1 whispered, as his voice rises to her hither, and, on finding her to be al -
in his excitement, for we are in the crowd ready engaged, the suitor said he was not
now, "and take care"—for with his head at all particular, any one of her sisters
lifted skyward, and his thoughts busily
engaged, he is taking no heed to his steps,
which are eneroaching on the train of a
lady before us, who looks as though she
had seized Fashion forcibly by the nose,
and wrested a costume from her, so biz-
zarre and outrageous and. eye -offending
are its properties. If it be true that the
test of a perfect toilet is that one does not
know of what it is composed, although
phy Is Metalled with sateething snoreof
bitter than it was three years ago.
A tat man and a lean Woman vaoete
tbeir chairs, so George and I promptly sit
delve on them and look ebont us. Several
promising flirt:01one are in full sering;
sevorol linos aro being throwrs out by dex.
terms maidens to entice into their nets
certain comely fish; there is ts buzz of eon-
versatiou, a Matter of fans, above whiels
rises, sweet and olear, the music of the
band hidden hi the trees away to the left.
In the assemblage tile female sox, as
usual, preponderates largely, and beholdiug the number of pettiooats as set against
the infrequency of the lavender end gray
legs, I feel slightly snubbed and rather
Mall, for is it not 40 unpleasant reflection
where she sits, soft and round And fresh
as the pink roses tbat lie half on her brown
hair, half on her white lace bonnet. Dolly
has exquisite blue eyes, and out of there
would do just as well; it didn't matter a
pin to him which he married. Do you
think I am so accommodating? There
never was but one girl in the world that I
wanted, and as I can't get her I'll have
nobody."
"Dolly would never forigve me if she
knew what then done," I say, my cheeks
crimson with vexation, "and I have
wounded you too. I am very sorry,
Silvia and I rarely speak to each other
en any sujcet save the child; he is a link
eetweou us, and she knows it, but I think
she often wonders with a oertnin pitying
Hoorn at my love forlsine Very rarely bave
I °moved her doom always against my
will, but bound by the swamis° Intone her
on the dav PAU1 fetched me to her side,
and be thought her dying. Well, she looks
strong enongh to.day, and sometimes I
wonder if it was all a trick from the very
beginning; and yet the illness maid not
be a peetense "
"We :we going to the rose -garden," she
says tapping her husband lightly on the
sbonlder with her fan, as WO paSSWhore he
stands talking to some gentlemen; "will
you take care of Miss Adele"
Plis Moe is very dieris as bejoins me, his
wife and. George walking on ahead, He
does not speak, neither do I; them' nor sl-
ime is often more clangorous than words,
I say, lamely enough, "that the party is a
pleasant one."
"Or enther, that you bare been Very
pleasantly engaged," he says, with a sud-
den, swift, jealous giallo:tout of his brown
eyes that makes my cheeks paler than
ever. I do not answer, and in another
minute we are in Silvia's rose -garden.
"I always was so fond of roses," I say,
nervously, as I lift my face out of a great
gelclen splendor, with a breath as sweet as
its own fairness. "Some people like lilies
best, but I do not; they hare only one
scent, only one face always, and the rose
has so Inany l"
"If you were dying," he says, "and had
to ;Moose the flowers to be laid in your
coffin, which veould you have?"
"Roses! I should like to be smothered in
them! Don't you think dead people • know
the flowers are there, and smell them? I
am sure I should. What made you think
of my dying? You forgot that I was al-
ways a coward about that."
"I had not forgoteu—but a strange
thought was passing through my mind --
of how some people get their flowers in life
and. some 10 death, and of how oursed is
the man who causes the life's flower of an-
other to wither."
"Only," I say, "gently, "it is God who
sends the blight, reroan."
Hook round, Silvia and. George have
vanished; there is no one here but Paul
and I.
"You will allow me to give you a bunch
of your favorites," he says.
"Another time, perhaps. We will follow
the others now." •
"No, I will pick them this minute," he
says; and while I stand a little apart, he
gathers me a great, glorious bouquet of
yellow, crimson, gold, and scarlet. Clear-
ing the thorns from the stalks, he gives it
to me and goes away, returning shortly
with one snow-white stainless rose that
has no fleek or flaw to dim its absolute
purity. "Will you we .r this one?" he says;
and I take it from his hand and fasten it
with my brooch against my throat.
"They are very lovely," I say, looking
down on my roses. "We will take them
and show them to Dolly."
"Nell," he says,"Noll I are you growing
at last to care for that yellow -haired lover
of yours?"
"Hush 1" I say, bottling up my hand
and listening. A smile breaks over my
face as a 0 rtain sound that I know well
enough by now is heard in the distance—
a scatter of little hurrying feet, a naughty
little laugh of mischievous glee—and in
another minute Wattle appears before us.
his curls tmnbled, his cheeks flushed, and
the skirt of his frock full of daisies.
"Lallie I Larne !" he calls out, and down
we go on the grass side by side to make
our daisy -chain; not the first we have
made together by any means. The nurse,
seeing that he is with me, goes away. His
father does not turn on his heel and go
away as he did that first time he saw us
together (shall I ever forget his face when
he caught sight of us?) he stands looking
down on us—on the rapt, intent face of
the child, as he hands nee daisy after daisy,
on my hands as I thread them. As I look
up from the son to the father, the extraor-
dinary resemblance bovsteen the two faces
strikes nse with fresh surprise
"You love him" says Paul.
"Yes, I love him " Does he guess, I
wonder, that I love his child above almost
all things on earth?
"If you had been his mother," says
'Paul, jealously, "you would have loved
him be,ter than your husband."
"Shaeld I?"
one is chstincely aware that the person in George;" and, _forgetting the people all I bow my head aver the child that he
it looks charming, then are those here pre_ about us, I put my pale yellow hand into raay not see ray face; careless and imps.
sent found seriously wanting, for the dress his straw-eolored one, and give it a friend- tient as I have been with children all my
and the manner of it strike the beholder ly squeeze; he holds mine for a moment, life, does he not know why I love his son
first, the wearer of it after. then I dra, v it away, and, looking up, see so passionately, so deeply? , The daisy-
,
"Do o men never have any hanker- Paul Vasher standing before us. chain is round Wattle's nark nawand he
is
ings after your lost doublet, hose, velvet "I hope you are not feeling dull, Miss nearly throttling me with his kisses and
eloalss and other smart trappings, George? Adair?" he says:and, cold as are our ways vigorously clinging arms. Gently I sot
I should if I were a man. Now, I have no and looks to each other always now, his him down and whisper something in his
doubt that blue would be as becoming to voice steikes me like an unexpected douoh ear, giving him e little pu ;h, he hesitates
some of you as 1 would be fatal to others;
that some particular color sets you off as
well as it does particular women, and that
the very ugliest of you might be furbished
up into something uncommon -looking or
picturesque."
"1 can't say it ever bothers me," says
George laughing; "but there is one thing
I should like to have hack, and that Is the
good. old days when a pretty woman was a
pretty woman, and every one knew it, and
a plain one was a plain one. and every one
knew that; and the line between Madam
Beauty and Madame Ugly was drawn hard
and fa.st. It is all very different now. The
plaizi women make themselves such ex-
celleet imitations of their lovely sisters
with their dyed hair, painted cheeks, and
artificial charms, that it is not always easy
to separate the snake believes from the
really handsome people—in fact, the only
difference between them at a distance is
that the former wear veils and the latter
do nat. Our grandfathers were not ob-
liged to look close into a woman's face to
find out whether she was beautiful or only
pretending to be; they gave hearty, honest
adrairation to the lass with ropes of yellow
hair, and the skin of cream and roses, and
kindly pity to the one who possessed but
scant popper -and -salt looks and a sallow
skin."
"Well done!" I say, with much aston-
ishment as he pauses for laok of breath.
"I had no idea you were such an acute ob-
server, Mr.George. There is a good deal
of truth in what you say, though and
there is a ghastly mixture of false and real
beauty about; but for all that there is
some contented uglieees wandering about
the face of the earth, making, no attempt
at Whitening itself."
"Mrs. Bareacres is smacking her lips
over something," says George. "Another
reputation demolished, no doubt. Those
old women ate perfect emporiums of soan-
dal and venom, out of which a story, re-
dounding to the discredit of every one
present, may be fished at a moment's not-
ice 1" •
41 wander what mine is," I my, laughs
'Heaver: grant that they may never
haven chance of. making you the subject
of their talk!" says the young man sober-
ly—so soberly that I stare at him for a
moment irs Mendes. He wed not to be so
grave and thoughtful, or think so serious -
Asks, bitterly, as the turns away hereon ,Iy about people and things. His philoso-
of ice-cold water.
4. Not at all, thank you, Mr.Vasher "
He moves away among his guests, and
George and I look after him silently; be-
tween us Paul's name is never spoken.
Dolly goes by with her tail cavalier, giv-
tender voice; and, no hand being held out
ing me a sauoy, sidelong look of triumph.
She just reaches his elbow. Smiles follow to greet him, he clasps his arms round
Paul's knees. Paul stoops and unclasps
them as they pass, but they are so taken
them without a word. setting him aside,
up with each other that they do not see
n
them. .As the assemblage ebbs to and fro,ot roughly or hastily, but inexorably. A
piteous droop comes about the baby lips,
scraps of con versation 00100 to aur ears.
"Pity Adair quarrels so confoundedly with 1 and puckers up the baby brow, as Wattle
everybody," issues from a knot of nen
stands alone, in disgrace, as he thinks (a
s
ohild can not reason, ,but it knows when
discussing the people present (apparently),
it is slighted and the tender little heart is
"for he has the prettiest family of daugh-
ters I ever saw." grieved); then. he runs across to me, and
hides his head in my breast. Poor, little
desolate son! how many repulses have you
not had from him before you could under-
stand his ways so well?
"God forgive youl" I whisper to Paul,
a moment, this little son of not yet three
years old, who is worse than fatherless,
motherless, then (for he is as brave as he
is beautiful) he goes with his little, short,
unsteady steps to his father.
"Papal papa!" he say, in his ohildish,
And a niieute later I hear a woman's
voioe exclaim, "That Helen Adair? Im-
possible I How she has gone off, poor
thing t" George's eyes meet mine, and
"Hags!" cried George In a fury. wi
th burning anger, as I lift Wattle in my
"I
should. like to knock all their spiteful ugly arms and press m7 cheek against his, and
heads together l" so I carry him away through the blooming
" m 1 so very much altered, hetanie?,, ;fragrant alleys, and leave Paul standing
in the naidst of his rose -garden alone.
CHAPTER XL
"George!" I say, in a muffled voice.
"Yes I" he answers in another,
"Supposing somebody comes and site
down on us?"
"A little MOTO or less could not make
snitch difference!"
"I wish we had not let them do it. Does
not your nose tickle horribly?"
"Rather, That's your fifteenth sneeze,
Nel'V"
" es, you ought to condole with me
over them, as the ancients did, with each
other when they were oonvulsed in like
manner."
"I would if it prevented the repeti-
tion."
wonder when Dolly and &when will
come back. Supposing they forget us alto-
ge'b'llWerrshould become Meat for pitch-
forks."
I ask, with a sharp pang. "I never was
very pretty, you know; ana If people say
that, I must have gtown absolutely ugly."
"You are altered," he says, scanning
my face with his holiest, tender eyes; "but
you have lost none of your good looks; to
sne you aro always sweet and lovely, Nell.
You are very pale now, and yea do not
senile a bit as you used to do, but I don't
think you neecl be afraid of growing ugly,
Nell."
"I don't see how I could go off 1" X say,
laughing, "for that presupposes the pos-
session of more than ordinary good looks
at S01110 period or other of my existence,
and I never was anything to speak of, ex-
cept to you, and—" 1 stop.
"Have you seen my roses?" asks Silvia
coming up to sis—beautiful Silvia, in a
robe that is all gleaming yellow and blood -
red knots of ribbon among her latos.
"No, not yet."
"Then will yon dome now, and Mr.
Tempest?'
"I shall be most happy," he says, stiff -
)'
Silvia Is his neighbor's wife; ho cannot
refuse to be her guest without folks won-
derIng why so he comes, but between the
pair there le a steady, ettong dislike,
"Have you seen Wattle?" sho asks, att
They should be cold and nutist when but -
we are Caning away; "/ heard him calls
ing Mit for you just now." ter 10 packed in them.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Butter tubs or jars, before used, even if
neve, should be studded Out With boiling
water, or be subjeoted to a bot steain
blast, and then Immersed in col d water,
NEW BORDEAUX NI1XTURE,
At a meeting of the National Agricul-
tural sooiety of France ten improved Bor-
clemex mixture was suggested with the ob-
ject of removing certain obit:Mims to the
one naky so largely used in this country,
11 has the advantage over the old mixture
In being loss injurious to foliage,less liable
to be washed away by rains, and loss liable
to thoke the nozzle of the spraying ma-
chine. The new formula Is as follows:
.Quicklime, 4 pounds 6 ounces; molasses,
4 pounds 6 (MIMS; SUlphOte ot copper, 4
pounds 6 ounces; water 22 gallons, The
essential difference between the new and
old formulas is the mesenfie of the ' mo-
lasses, which has a areater ipfluence than
would at Met be expected. '` The method
of mixing is to add the molasses to 18
gallons of water, then sleek the lime and
ad. 4 and a half gallons of water to form a
milk of lime. Pour this slowly into the
sweetened water, stirring briskly in order
to mix intimately. Next, in . a third
(wooden )vessel dissolve the bluestone and
pour tine into the previous mixture, stir-
ring well. In this blending of materialS
chemical changes are taking place. When
the milk of lime and the sweetened
solution are intim etely mixed together,
theu the saccharate of Hine is formed.
Next, when to this is added the solution
of sulphate of oopper, a double decomposi-
tion takes place; sulphate of lime is form-
ed on the one hand and soluble sacoharate
of copper on the other. This gancllarate of
enpper is only forinee in presence of an ex-
cess IJf lime, and its :ormation is indicated
by the mixture assuming a beautiful
greenish tinge. Thne the mixture is ren-
dered alkaline, and the tiold is neutralized
by the lime.
When. and Row to Transplant.
Roses may be lifted with safety between
November and May. In digging them, I
would be careful to get all the roots pos
sible without bruising them; shorten with
O sharp knife all the large mats, but pre-
serve earef ally the fibers. In making a new
bed, I would select a good, deep loam, if
possible, without either sand or gravel, ou
land that is drained, naturally or other-
wise, where any surplus moisture 'will
quickly disappear. The bed should be
thoroughly dug up at a depth of 12 inches
or more, and a generous quantity of de-
cayed cow dung thoroughly incorporated
with it. In this prepared bed plant the
roses. I prefer roses on their own roots,
and to do the planting in April ; but it may
be done in the fall. The roots should be
spread out naturally, and the bushes
planted a little deeper than they ivere be -
tote. The soil should be carefully pressed
firm with the feet. After planting they
should receive a good soaking with watex ;
they will then need no more until spring.
If the planting be done in the fall, it is 0
good plan to prune them partially, to
within about 10 inches above ground. Just
before frost, they may be protected by
being earthed up with soil, and then cover-
ed with coarse manure or leaves. As soon
as it is safe to do so, uncover in spring and.
prune all branohes hack to about three
good eye's. As soon as the foliage appears,
they would be benefited by being sprayed
daily during dry weather, and during
drought, they should be occasionally given
a thorough good soaking of water. It will
now be time to look out for any insects
that may appear, and when the foliage is
wet, I would frequently dust with helle-
bore and tobacco dust alternately, and
would use a small insect powder bellows
in case the regular gerrier. bellows are not
at hand. The above directions do not ap-
nits to climbing roses or those grown in
reeenhouses for winter flowering.
Oakwoodds, R.I. W. ed. E.
Shade Trees.
Farm NOWS notices the fact that the
fashion of setting shade trees is becoming
almost universal audit is one that should
be encouraged, for they are both picturesque
and useful, and add much to the appear -
aim of a nosne. When this is being done,
though, care shoulci be taken notto set the
trees where they will be in the way at
some future time. When se; dug trees, try
to imagine how they will look when full
grown and then you can easily determine
where they should stand. The primary
object of a shade tree is, of course, the cool
shade they provide, but this is sornethlug
that can be easily over done. We know of
more than one house that is shaded until
it is gloomy, and that is not the object of
shade about a house. As sunshine is the
greatest and best dieinfectant and deodor-
izer the trees should be set so as to allow
the sun to strike every part of the house
and shine into every window that itecould
reach if the trees were not there. Again,
the trees should be set in places where they
will never interfere with views from the
windows of the homfa unless there may be
some that it is desirable to use the trees as
a screen to hide. In such cases, evergreen
trees make tbe best living screens for they
are there the year through. Too many
trees in a, yard is not as had as none, but
they spoil the effect. We have many nat-
ural trees that make perfect shade trees,
and the nerseries furnish many ornament-
al sorts that look well in a steed. Set shade
trees by all means, but do not set them so
as to keep sunshine from the h011Se, and
spoil your outlook.
The great majority of hardy perennial
flowers aro natives of wooas or grassy
places where the earth is shaded from the
hot slimmer suns. When they are rem oved
to open bordersthey suffer seriously from
saintlier heat. It is, therefore, good prao-
tice, in these open sunny situations, do
have the ground mulehed--that is to say,
covered with something like decayed loaves
or half -rotted straw, or anything that Will
prevent the scorching rays of the sun on
the oath. Herbeeeous plants do not dare so
much for bright sun as they do for cool
soil at the roots. For the same reason, A
10050, open soil is better for grow ing herb-
aceous plants than soil of a heavier charac-
ter, bemuse, having more air spaces, it is
oceiler, In short, it ie tool soil snore than
shade that herbaceous plants require. The
greedy fruit -grower hesitates to thin his
apples, pears, peaches or similar fruits,
looking only to quantity as his reward;
bat tho edible quality of the fruit of the
over bearing tree is never good. Those
who have the coinage to thin fruits in the
early stage, of growth not only get larger
and finer fruit, but also fruit of bettor
quality. In the pear tree one who tries the
experitnent will.be surprised to find how
vastly superior in quality is it pear from a
tree in whieh a large number were thin-
ned while the fruit Was still yourlin 'ithe
propet Mine to oommence thihning is as
soon as the fruit oonseleueee to swell,
A PORTABLE ROW OF HENS! NEM*
Where het fifteen Or twenty hens ars
kept, and no regularly constructed hen-
house Is at hand, a seriee of nests so made
from light material that:they can be reads
ily moved abont as desired, will be found
O valuable acquisition. The manner of
oonstruoting these nests is shown in the
illustration, Five or six, or even as many
as eight nests may be thus grouped. The
nest space, r, is one foot wide at the bot-
tom ; the front board is six inches wide;
the open space betvveen this and the roof
board, a, is eight inches wide, the roof
board being about fifteen inches in width,
An alighting or stopping board, x, is six
inebes Wide, leering an inch space between
that and the front of the nests, for refuse
to pees throagle The hatagers, s, s, may
be of any strew*s' material, and hung upon
spikes, driven mitt the proper place and in a
MOO
slanting direction. The bottom, front,
baok and cover may be made from wells
seasoned half-inch stuff, the divisions
being from one inch material, to better
hold the nails. The stepping board should
be loceted about one foot from the ground
or floor, that the hens may easily jumpem
'to it This row of nests may be changed.
from the inside to the outside of a build-
ing, or placed where most convenient.
Where nests are located singly and some
distance apart, the laying hen will occupy
the nest with another—espeoially if both
are in the habit of dropping their eggs in
that identical nest. By this system of
grouping, when they reach the stepping
board, or walk, and find one nest occupied,
they pass on to another, without molesting
the occupant. Another point in favor of
portable nests Is that they are readily
taken down, and every part can be thor-
oughly cleaned or whitewashed, which is
not practicable where the nosts are nailed
In position, as a part of the building.
Those who have tried this plan of group-
ing nests find it extremely convenienteind
praotical.
Live Stock Notes.
Feed the pigs regularly. This is the first
thing in feeding for profit,
The farm that does not support a flock
of poultry is not managed to the best pur-
pose.
Well bred pigs that are kept growing are
ready for the market all the time. Scrub
hogs do not begin to got fat until they
have got age on them.
The Chicago Live Stook Record says of
the hog market: "It is evident there is no
shortage of marketable hogs in the coun-
try, and we look for only steady rates
through a. good, healthy trade, with the
best aemand ()entering in the good light
and mixed weights.'
The majority of farmers keep too many
horses for the work they have to do, too
many cows for their dairy product, too
many hogs for the pork they have to put
in the barrel and too many hens for the
value of the eggs and poultry they have to
sell. Are not these reasons enough why so
many cannot make farming pay? If they
can lessen the expense of keeping a large
stook and yet get the same product there
will be a profit instead of a loss on all their
farming operations.
The work on a harvesting machine is
more severe on the shoulders of a horse be-
cause the tongue of the machine will dis-
turb the collar and make it press on a new
place. The best wash for such a sore when
it is formed is salt and -water in which
some alum has been dissolved. On no ac-
count put grease of any kind on the sore.
This softens the skin and makes the break
larger. Make two thin but broad pads for
the collar, one just above and the other be-
low the sore. This will make the cellar
press on a different place, but these pads
should be watched and replaced if they get
out of place or form in bunches. When-
ever a horse has been galled the team must
be stopped frequently aua backed, so as to
allow the collar to ease its pressure on the
shoinder. Ibis much easier to keep a horse
from galling than it is to Imre him while
still continuing to work him. But if the
collar is eased several times during each
fore and afternoon, end is removed entire-
ly while the horse is eating during the
noon hour, a tougher skin can be built up.
It would be better though to hire another
horse, and let the one whose shoulder is
sbre have entire rest for a few days, rub•
bing it frequently with the salt water and
alum solution to make the hide tough. It
Is really a way of tanning the hide.
Bedding for Varna Animals.
A great variety of bedding -materials are
employed in different localities, and each
farmer will of course, select for his own
use such of these as are the cheapest and
most available. In lumber distriets,where
sawnsells abound, farmers And cheap bed-
ding in the sawdust and shavings that are
produeed in so large quanitites. Sawdust
makes clean, tidy bedding, but the im-
pression is quite strong among farmers
that its effect upon the soil is not desir-
able. Certainly it decays very slowly. The
common beach sand near the, seashore pos-
sesses, when dry, good absorbing power,
and affoeds a comfortable 'bed for stook.
It is, howtiver, very heavy to handle, and
its application, in the manure, to land al-
ready too sandy as is much of the land
bordering upon the sea coastis not a good
practice. Meadow and salt hay, and the
straw of our. small grains,supply excellent •
bedding, and by their Stems,' return a large
amount of hum us to the soil. Their use
should be supplemented by the employ-
ment of some dry material, such as leant
dust, sifted coal ethos, or, land piaster,' so
that all the gases and liquid manure may
be saved. It is a simple matter for every
fatmer to lay by a supply of dr e absorb-
ents. By stirring the soil frequently .over
a small area, the eatth rapidly dries oat,
and becomes dust under the heat of a stun-
iner's sun. All that is left to do is to
gather the dry material and dere it in a
dry place. livery asitunin our shade and
fovest trees shed their 'leaves, a wealth of
the best of bedding, that, having absorbed
manurial substances, decay into the best of
manure.
If yea have a Spate poultry yard now is
the time to sow mite:soh clover in it.
Crimson clover will furnish excellent win-
ter pasturage for poultry, and will prevent
the yard from both:ening muddy and dis-
egreeable during the thawing or warm
gpolis of wiAter when thete is snow on the
grounds. The Delavvere talsed tesed ir
classed as the best.