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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-2-20, Page 6LIFTED YOVE Or, float the Wharf Wai Became a Princess. PUBLISHED BY 61'EC.IAL ARRAN GEMENT, They landed, and having discharge thethwaterman groped their way up dark stairs to the landing above, why they stopped. talking together in a lo voice and in their own tongue. Event pally Drigo left them and went up t the .Toy to see that the road was clew Meanwhile, made tuskless by my unsatis fied yearnings, Ihad left tuyplace, an following them noiselessly up the step stood now almost within arm's reach o Tares. Idistinguished the profile of hi face quite clearly against the faint ligh beyond as he turned to speak a few cheering words to one of his friends the bold, handsome outline of aquihn nose, the curve of his mustache and h short, pointed beard. Almost I fends I could see in his face the expression of happiness in having rescued his friends I was envious of that kindly regard be stowed upon another, and drawin a step nearer, by an instinctive impulse raised my hand and laid it timidly o his arm. Tne act was not intentional I could not help doing it. The movement was seen by his corn panion, who started with a stifled cry o alarm. Tarns, seeing me, spoke a few low words of remonstrance to his frien that seemed to say: " What are you afraid of? It's only a poor, miserabl waif." Then, recognizing meat a secon glance, he exclaimed softly in English "Ah, it is you!" "Yes, me—the kipper," I tried to say but my voice was thick with feverish agitation and my words unintelligible. " You have conte to tell us that it i all right," he said, adding, after he had Oven this explanation to his friends "' it's very good of you," and he nodded at me attain with that kind smile that had wrought such a mysterious effect upon my nature. Just then Drigo whistled softly from the side door of the Joy, and Tares hurried his friends forward, leaving me there with more happiness in my heart than I had felt in the whole of my life. I waited on the landing until they had all filed into the Joy. Then I slipped past the closed door and ran across to the archway in Sweet Apple lane op- posite the house. I knew that there was no accommodation for the party in the Joy, and that as soon as the escaped men had changed clothes they would come away. As there was no other way but through Sweet Apple lane they must pass me, and I should see Taras once more. I had stood there not many minutes when I hoard a glass crash in the Joy, and the next moment there was a deep thud as if some one had thrown him- self against the door ; then there followed a stifled cry, the shuffling of feet and the sound of heavy blows. These sounds left me in no doubt as to what was go- ing on in the bar of the Joy. In Shadwell one hears the noise of fighting every night. But I could hardlybelieve that Drigo and Putty were the attack- ing party. The latter I knew to be a coward and feeble as well, being sodden with drink. Taras, I felt sure, could defend himself against half a dozen such men as he, and timid as his friends might be it was not likely that they would stand aside and make no effort to aid him. I had no fear for him, but rather a savage exultation in the belief that he would thrash his enemies and punish them according to their deserts. It occurred to me that he had discover- ed Drigo's treachery and was now giving hint a lesson not to be forgotten, and with a burning desire to hear him howling for mercy I ran across the road and put my ear to the door. The fight was over already. I could hear no sound save a faint whispering .and occasionally the shuffling of feet, and even these indications of movement within ceased after awhile, leading me to believe that the whole party had re- tired into the room behind the bar. 1 could not make it out. There was no swearing, no altercation, nothing but silence, It was the strangest way of concluding a fight or a quarrel that 1 had ever heard. What did it mean? Had Tares killed Drigo by some terribiebiow of that strong arm and were they all si- lenced by the fear of alarming the police? That seemed to me the most plausible explanation. I betook myself hurriedly to the dark .archway as I heard a grating of the lock in tha Bide door of the Joy, and almost immediately afterward 1 saw the three escaped friends of Taras come up from Ferryboat lane. I recognized all three as they pasted the archway. They walked in haste. I thought then that they might be in search of a doctor. but they never returned. After a time I ventured down the alley. There was no eight to be seen through the fanlight . of the side door, and all was silent as the night. I hung about • the place in vague perplexity, unable to leave it, ex- pecting every minute some further de- velopment of the mystery. At 7 o'clock, when it was broad day- ight, the front door of the. Mariner's -Joy opened, and Putty came out and took down the shutters. He had not a scratch on his face. While he was thus engaged Drigo appeared, and he also showed no sign of having been in the fight. He spoke to Putty and then walked of along Sweet Apple lane. Put- ty went in and reappeared, sweeping- away the fragments of broken glass. Then for the first time a terrible fear that Tares had been killed in the fight took hold of me and shook- me like an ague. But I did not know what to do. I ,was like one paralyzed—incapable of action. I never thought of going to the jpolice. What use if Tares was dead? Besid s, from ° , th° earliest days of my recollection I had regarded the. police as my natural enemy -the enemyof all outcasts and homeless wretch es like ins. But after a -time' I. caught sight of Drigo returning down: Sweet Apple lane with a loaf under his arm and other pro- visions visions in his hands. Then, desperate with: this newborn fear, I: stepped into. the road from the doorway where I had been crouching and stopped hem. Where is he—the. man with the fair beard 1.' I asked. ', Why, said been hisbroken � y, English, and with grin on his hateful wz a � s stein. face, but not a sign of: etrlbarrasment or surprise,. he wen'tawa with his frien de hours ago. ,. " That's a lie, " said 1; "only three .men have come out of the .Joy in the Might, and those .are the three who went into it with you and the mare with fair beard," • "I won't a lady, but 'f 4 � I didn't go away with his friends he is the house now, and if you axe still doubt you had better come in and see These last words he whispered wi such. a fiendish grin that there was f mistaking his meaning. If he had sa plainly, "Come in and share the saw fate as the man with the fair beard the threat would not have been m obvious. "Will you come, Beauty," he add with a sneer. I .bade no reply, and he went on d the Joy J witha derisive thank. 3e e. e t I was not the fearof death ma at that re a coward,of me; my life was too wretch° w and hopeles�l to be cherished. It w just the dread of personal violence an o physical suffering; that's all. But i r. the course of the morning I grew ap - thetic under the sense of weariness an d dejection. "If the man with the fa s beard is killed," I said to myself, "I m' f as well he killed, too, and be done` wit s it for good and all." t And with this thought I crossed th lane and pushed open the swing door — the Joy. e CHAPTER ILL is d A STRANGE VOICE. There was no one in the bar of th • Joy, but I heard the low murmur - voice§ in the room beyond; so my cob g age holding out I went behind the U counter, right up to the open door an a looked in. The shutters were still close • but by the light that came in thr'oug the bar windows I saw Drigo and Putt - sitting face to face at the dirty tabl 2with pipes in their mouths and a can t drink between them, playing card d The air was thick with smoke, but was clear enough that no one, dead o d alive, was in the room but those two. Without looking at me Putty, svrtin I his cards, asked me what I wanted embellishing r s n„ the question with a few fo words. His calmness astonished me, "I want to see the fair man," said ' suddenly. s "Then you'll have to wait till h comes back." • "He ain't gone out, and you know it I ain't took my eyes off the door since h came in this morning at half past two. " Oh, very well. If he isn't gone out I you'd better look about here and fin him. Two for his bloomin nob," li added, addressing Drigo as he turned a card. On the ground floor there were bu those two rooms—the bar and the parlor To find Tares I must look in the room above. My'retreat would be cut off i I went up stairs, and if Tares was mur dered and lying there I knew wel enough that I should never be allowe to tell the tale. But I took Putty at hi word without hesitation, and prepare for the worst made my way down th side passage to the stairs, and after as suring myself that the cupboard unde the stairs was empty, save for a littl 1 coal piled in one corner, and that th passage itself contained nothing, I wen up to the story above with a falterin step, quaking with the double terror o finding Taras dead and of hearing th stairs nehind me creak under the pursu ing feet of his murderers. I Passed from room to room, laying my hand agaius the wall for support, my heart ceasin to beat whenever a rotten board creake under my foot. Phe three rooms that composed th ' fiat were absolutely empty; there was nothing above but the cockloft. To reach that I had to ascend a ladder and creep through the trapdoor.. But I did it, though I expected never to come down again. The loft was empty and thick with the ' unstirred dust of years. I descended the ladder and went down stairs, too bewild- ered by this mystery to reason upon it. The two men were still playing in the den behind the bar; they had not troubled themselves to follow me. ' ` Well, ha' you found him?" Patty called out, hearing my step. "He ain't there," 1 answeredstupidly. "Perhaps he's made o' glass, as you didn't see him along of his friends and can't see him nowheres about the house.' "I wouldn't give him up," sneered Drigo. "Come and sit down •with us till he comes back." "Oh, if you're agoin to stay, you ken give the bar a bit of a clean up. There's all them pots"— Putty broke off short as if he had received some silent ad- monition from Drigo. I went behind the counter and began to put it in order mechanically, for my thoughts were now occupied in solving the mystery of this disappearance. I asked myself if at any time during my watch I had given away to fatigue and dozed. No; I had sat down only for a few minutes, and certainly I had not lost consciousness then. I felt that it • was an impossibility for Taras to have passed me without my perceiving him.` Had they thrown his body in the river? No ! In the silence of the night I should have heard the door in Ferryboat alley open a second time as I had heard it the ' first, nor could a heavy body have been ' carried down the alley without the . scuffling of feet being audible, Besides, the risk was one which Putty, .I knew, had not the courage to run. And their composure now was not consistent with their having done a dangerous deed, though Drigo might very well have counseled Putty to assume indifference in order to avert suspicion which might have led me to communicate with the police. The most reasonable 'conjecture I could form was that Taras had actually left the Joy with his friends and had turned down to the water instead of ac- companying them into Sweet Apple lane, He might have ordered the waterman to return, and so got away. If this were really the case, he might re- turn as Drigo had intended—not that his word was to be taken in earnest; his whole' tone was. ironical and indicative of double meaning. But the hope that - Tarns still lived' and might return put new life into me, and I went about my work behind the bar with such alacrity that I think the hien inside conceived I was trying to make amends for my mis- behavior. .At any rate, after a long si- lence, in which they cast furtive glances at me every now and then, their sus- picion relaxed, and they entered heartily 'into a dispute over some trick which one had played with the ' cards while the other was not watching, and this led to their devoting more attention to their gain°. 1 had a row of washed glasses on the bar and was standing in. front of the parlor door wiping: them when my sense of hearing gradually took recognition of a sound which did not come from the men at my back. The silence of my oc- cupation ailowed me .to listen and yet continue working. The sound was very faint. Its regularity attracted - Y my at - the he' in in th no id e ore ed to de d as d n a- ir �y h. e� of e of r- d, =h e, f tentien. One does not notice the single 1 chirp a v it s arrow belt if . I the chirping iiia is continued persistingly for any length of time it never fails to e,cite attention. It was just the same with this sound, which I noticed after awhile occurred in this way, with regular interval be- tween: I 'Tap, tap, tap—tap, tap—tap, tap— tan, tap tap, tap—tap," and so on over and over again. 1 looked round the bar for an explana- tion, I saw no vibrating bottle ori the shelves such as the sound seemed to in- dicate. There was no wind to shake the yellow curtain against the front win - 1 do w. It seemed to come from the old disused beer engine before.. me, and T touohed one of the handles to see if it was loose,The rattle it madenuder my band was answered almost irnneediately by a similar rattle, and then the engine itself seemed to be whispering with a human voice. The glass nearly slipped ' from my hand, but 1 recovered lay presence of mind in an instant and went on' polish- ing the glasses till a new dispute arose within over a false cut. ThenI touched the handle again, and again the rattle was echoed by another, and as I strained my ears I heard the whispering sound once more. The engine was articulat- ing words, but so faintly that T caught but the last three, and they were:: —"for God's sake!" My hair seemed to crisp up on my head as 1 listened, The voice was awful to my ignorant, superstitious 'mind. I thought the dead was speaking to me. Then un a sudden my reason suggested a natural explanation of the mystery— the voice came through the pipes from a 1 the cellar. it I had not before thought of the cellar, r for the simple reason that I had forgot- ' ten its existence. Five years before it g had been closed, for a motive which I shall presently explain, and since that time u e o °had entered it. The beer was ul ( no longer drawn from the cellar', but I from casks set up behind the bar, and (the trap between the entrance and e the bar, through which the casks used Ito be let down into the cellar, had been screwed down and formed part of the e floor over which we walked daily. (Now I recollected that the carpenter had been in the Joy the day before and a had doubtless withdrawn the screws e and made the flap practicable for up descent. Even now, as I glanced at the 1 floor, I failed to see any difference in its t appearance or any sign of the trap hay- ing been moved. The sand with which s . the floor was strewn had been carefully f rubbed into the cracks so as to cotnplete .I ly conceal the opening. But Taras was i I down there—I felt sure of that—and a. ill, as if to confirm it the tapping recom s =need. .. d " Tap, tap, tap—tap, tap—tap—tap, o tap, tap—tap, tap—tap." But now the sounds seems to my ex - ✓ cited imagination terribly loud, causing o every muscle in my body to contract t with the dread of being heard by Putty or the quicker witted Drigo. What g signal could I make to let Tares know f that Ihad heard hien and that he was to e cease tapping the pipe? It occurred to - me that if I could hear his voice through the pipe he could hear mine, but I dared t not approach my lips to the engine, and g still less answer the whisper, for the d machine was in full view of the men in the parlor. The tapping continued— e still more audibly it seemed to me. I must stop it, even if I killed every hope I had raised, by .replying to his signal with the handle. Going close to the engine and laying my hand on the handle to pull it down and open the valves if it would, I said in a loud voice: "I'm done now, bloke, and I'm a-goin. Will you give me something for a bit of grub? I ain't eat nuthin to -day." He had some coppers on the table that were won from Drigo, and he threw a few on the floor with some brutal words. I picked them up without a reply, but as I turned to go I had the gumption to say in a moody tone: " I shall kum after dinner and see if he's back—that fellow with the beard. He's took my fancy awful." I went out with the fierce determina- tion to keep the spirit of that promise. I would see Tares, but by means they little dreamed of for all their villainous craft. CHAPTER IV. THE ESCAPE. I knew more about the Mariner's Joy than was known to Putty. Years before he took the house I earned my living there, doing a drudge's work and run- ning on errands when I was a mere child. Fly Jigger had it then; that was before iinprovements ruined the neigh borhood. The houses in Sweet Apple lane, now mostly untenanted. were crowded with tenants, and the Joy was a favorite "house of call" for all sorts of bad characters who lived there, and for the men employed in Baxter's wharf, which was then one of the busiest stores for dry salting on this side of the river. Fly Jigger did well by legitimate trade but he made still more money by dishonest means and principally by plundering Baxter's wharf. For this purpose he and his crew had made a passage under the fore -shore, opening at one end into the cellar of the Joy and at the other end into the cellar • of the wharf. This passage was called the tub run, because, to preveant the sides falling in, it was lined with casks with their heads removed and set end to end. As soon as the house was closed at night Fly Jigger and his states would set to work, going through the tub run into. Baxter's wharf and returning with goods from the storerooms. I have seen them bring out as many as fifty hams in a night. The secret was never found ont, but when the trade went from' Baxter's and the wharf was cleared out and closed the ruri was no longer. of any service. Tlie wharf watchman, who had been a party to these robberies, took care to. close and conceal the cellar opening, and Fly, Jigger masked the opening on his side with a flagstone and a barrow. load of rubbish, which, trodden clown, presented no difference from the rest of the unpaved floor. Previous to that, to keep the brewers out of the cellar, he had removed the beer barrels, which thenceforth he : kept set up behind the bar, saying that it was morefair and squarelike for the customers to see their beer drawn from: the wood than through she engine from the deuce knows where. TO BE CONTINUED. The Now Orderly. Visitor --Is the Herr lieutenant at home? Orderly—No. Visitor—I can hardly believe that. Orderly—Then step inside and ask him yourself ; perhaps you will 'believe ` it then! -sea' eta POSTS AND FENCES. Any one who has experienced the vexa- tion of having a good fence spoiled by the posts being lifted, and heaved out of plane bythe action o • Clic o t !1 t fir s w 1 readily adil ap- preciate A rel ec ate a post hi s which is not P P materially affected by the capriciousness of the weather. Such a post Is shown in Fig, 1. It is made of efe inch round iron, bent as shown in the out, and the ends cemented in a block of stone in whioh holes have been drilled to receive them. Any rough stone of sufficient weight will do if not too hard for drilling. • Tho loop is suffi- ciently wide to receive the ends of the two rails abreast. Posts made in this way have great stability for the small amount of iron used, and will be found strong enough for any ordinary fence, , The fence can be finished in different styles, if made an all -rail fence which is the simplest. The rails "pass" at the joint in the post and gluts are fitted in to keep mom 111111111111111111111111111111 111111111111111111111111111111111111 001 I Ft a. a. the rails the desired distance apart. Fig. 2 shows how a picket fence may be made in this style. In order to have a straight face for the pickets and yet fill the space in the post, the rails are butted together at the posts, and a piece of rail nailed on the back to keep them together. Fig. 11. is a combination fence; pieces of rail are nailed vertical to keep the top rail in plaoe, and also to staple the wire to. The Poultry Yard. The flocks are pets as well as sources of profit, and it is when the poultry man has a fondness for the business that be makes it pay. When a man is interested in poultry because he has what may be termed the "hen fever" he will know every member of his flock. Such persons are never satisfied unless they are near the top in excellence of breed, and they will always be found ready to learn what the different breeds are. They also usual- ly begin at the bottom and work up to the head, and never venture to keep very large flocks until they have experimented and discovered by practical experience what is required for success. The farmer should do the same.He can be a fancier as well as a farmer, and when he has learned more about the breeds he will rind that he formerly knew very little about poultry. There is an opportunity for every farmer to make a profit from poultry if he will step out of the old methods and take up the new. It takes time and money to make a business of poultry, and there are but few large poul- try farms because farmers have not been willing to put sufficient capital in poultry, and are disposed to expect, too much 'from small outlay. With the markets of the large cities almost at their doors, and watering places and pleasure resorts with- in easy reach, the keeping of poultry as a special 000upation- should be remunera- tive. But the farmer must learn more. He must abandon the supposition that throwing down plenty of food is alone sufficient. The great drawback is disease, and overfeeding also becomes as great a mistake as exposure on the farm in winter. Poultry is recognized by the agricultural journals as a source 'of revenue to farmers, and every effort is made to educate them. If farmers will take a deeper interest in poultry they will have something coining in nearly every day of the year, and derive more benefit than from larger stock. Every dollar saved in the food is an addition to theprofit,but economy should never be practised in using any foods that induce production. As long as an article is giving satisfactiomit pays to use it, and when the hens begin to fall off in laying it Indloates that they require something else. To practise eoonomy,the cost of the food must be considered from the stand- point of profit. If cornhas given good results and the hens cease to lay, then corn is no longer cheap. It may no doubt be purchased at less outlay than any other food that can be used, but it will not be cheap because it is of no further use after the hens reach a condition in which they demand a new article of diet. Lean meat, fresh from the butcher, is an expensive food when it cannot be con- veniently procured, yet, if the hens de- mand it, and the results are favorable,it is cheaper than torn. There is no saving in buying grain because of its cheapness when better foods are demanded, and it is this point that the poultryman should keep In view. Be should feed for eggs, no matter what kind of food may be re- quired. Late chicks are killed in the fall and kept in cold storage during the winter, coming into market soon after the hull - day rush is over and the supply begins to fall off. The cold storage chicks are sold as early broilers in tbe spring, and bring good prices. Contrary to expectation, cold storage poultry, while reducing prides slightly; opens a-nmarketfor fall chickens and assists in increasing the number ,of fowls on the farms. In proof of this it may be mentioned ' that a re- view of the markets for the past II re years will show better prices during the fall season than existed before the cold storage process became general. What is lost in winter prices is gained in the sum- mer and fall:' Cold storage stook cannot compete, however; with fresh, choice poultry, Itis only the inferior kinds that are injured - in sale by the frozen stook. The same may be said of limed eggs. They will sell because they possess a cer- tain value, but they are almost unsalable after the full'. supply of fresh eggs begins to arrive. Whenever a'wav nsAell comes in win- ter lu can be noticed that more eggs are obtained, and that as s00n se the weather becomes cold again the supply falls off, This; shows that warmth is factor in the production of eggs. It is not neces- sary to have summer weather. It is when1 the hens escape the extreme coldof P winter that they should begin to Gley. If the changes of weather make a diner enceen laying, then a waren poultry house should also have an influence. When poultry must resort to the tree tops and be exposed to scow, rain, hail and wind, ahoy can only keep alive, being unable to assist the farmer by produoine eggs, In all breeds will be found sono fowls that are worthless, Unless careful selec- tion of the breeding stook is made before March it will be too late. Whatever the conditions may be, or the breed preferred, aim to secure vigor, and especially be careful t 1 n n to allow a bird in th flock e that has beenet' ok ort t hn came from Il a farm on which were sick fowls, Be cau- tious on that point, and it will save many hours that would otherwise be used in doctoring the flock, Ducks become weak in the legs and die when 'fed too much grain, and they cannot be fed the same food Cts the hens without liability of loss. Yet farmers will feed all kinds of poultry togerher and on the same food. A duck's egg is very large, and as ducks lay nearly every day after they begin, the tax on them in egg production is a severe one. What they require most is animal food and bulky material, such as lean rnsat or ground meat and cut clover, scalded, though bran and ground oats, moistened, should also be allowed. .lust as soon as the ducks indicate lameness it is a sure sign that too much grain is being fed and the nitrogenous food insufficient. Geese seem to be sufficiently wise not to bring forth their young too soon. but they hatch the guslings early enough to lose some of them unless the farther is care' el. The goslings aro covered only with down, which permits theta to be- come chilled If they go on ponds of cold water before they are well feathered. By keeping them away from the water when they are young they should thrive and no losses occur, as they are usually hardy and have good appetites. Care of Sows. A Canadian, in an address before a swine breeders' association of Canada, ad- vises the withholding of all food except warm drinks for 48 hours after farrow- ing: then fend lightly on ground oats, bran or shorts for nine or ten days, atter which give boiled feeds and mix with a small quantity of bran and shorts. The youngsters may be given boiled peas and milk until weaning, which should be from seven to eight weeks of age. .After this event add shorts to boiled peas by degrees, changing to ground feed, a mix- ture of peas, oats, rye and buckwheat, with access to salt, charcoal and ashes. He offered the following advice: "At three months of age the sows should be spayed, an operation seldom performed in this country, and one that is just as necessary as to castrate boars; sows do so much better when spayed. After they are old enough to come in, whenever there are a number of them to- gether, there is always one to annoy the rest; not only that, but when you come to slaughter them there is sure to be some of them in season, in which state they are not fit for killing. Spaying is an operation which any ordinary person can perform. It is only necessary to starve the sows until empty, get two as- sistants, have the animal held on its side, and with the use of a good knife and a flesh needle the operation can bo perform- ed in a very short time. 1t is not neces- sary to have them starved, only as it is easier for the operator, and there Is not so much danger. People in general aro afraid to try spaying. Do not be afraid. If you don't like to undertake it, just pat some boy who bas started to take notice to work. It has got to be learned by prac- tice. I performed my first operation suc- cessfully when only 15 years of age, with- out any instructions. It is all in com- meneing. If the first should be fatal 1t is only a matter of three or four dollars, and the loss you will never regret if you. only keep ton. There is no more danger in spaying than in castrating when you fully understand the business. I would say do it 'when they are young, but for an ordinary operator a sow about 60 or '75 pounds is easier to do, as there is so much more room and the parts to be removed are mach easier found. After the opera- tion feed sparingly for a .few days until they are well, turn them with the bar- rows, and if at a season when there Is grass let them have clover pasture, and very. little feed will be required until large enough to finish off for market. Then they should be closed up and fed on pea meal for a month or five weeks, or until they get to dress about 180 pounds, which can be done without any unneces- sary forcing or pampering, and there will be a far better carcass when slaughtered, and just the hog for the bacon curer all seasons of the year." Binges and Hasps fora Box. Grain chests and other useful boxes may be made on the farm by any one handy with tools. The farmer who has a passable set of tools and ingenuity can always find some kind of wet -weather work more profitable than sitting around the nearest grocery, talking and smoking. Our illustrations show how to make iron hinges and fastenings without recourse to a blacksmith. From a strip of hoop -iron "are out pieces three inches long, in each end of which a hole is driven with a steel punch, and afterwards reamed out to one quarter of an inch diameter by yea, I -box with Iron Hinges.andhasp. 1p 01 10 �,, 11 flG.2, Hinge. Rasp and Staple. means of a three cornered file in a bit brace. Staples are made of . thick wire and ono is driven in at each end of the hinge and clinched" to hold it in place. The clasp is made in the seine manner as the hinges, save that two holes half an inch apart are made at one end, and the slot connecting thein out with a file or cold chisel, . The hasp is bent to a right angle, the upper end stapled to the box cover, and a larger staple driven so as to project through the slot at the lower end.— American Agriculturist. la That to make a delicious blackberry sherbet the ingredients required are three. quarts of.'blaokberries, ofie quart of Water, one pint of sugar and the juioo of four lemons. Mash the fruit and sugar to- gether mid let the mixture stand for one hour, then add the water, and place it on the fire. Cook •for >twenty i.minutes after the liquid begins to boli. At the end of that time strain and cool, and when cool freeze, - A Clo t 1 Yee Line 7r lev t a or. Our illustration shows a device for carrying two clothes lines, both of whisk may be elevated at once. It consists of a stout post set well into the ground, and having in the upper end a slot two inches wide and six long. In this is a lever of tough hard wood, two inches square and sig feet long, playing freely on a half *Ale egaii L1i(t inch bolt, which extends through the post from side to side. One end of the lever is rounded off, and firmly mortised to the other is a cross piece three and a half feet long, near tho extremities of whioh are attaohed the clothes lines. After the lines have been filled, the long arm of the lever is brought down and hooked under the projection of the short post, elevating the linos with their burdens about two and a half feet above the original position. This action is re- versed whon it is desired to reach the lines.—American Agriculturist. Why He Was "Agin" Bomb Throwing. The two tramps were roosting in an alley over a can of beer and a lunch, and one of them was reading the paper in which the'lunch had been wrapped. "Say, Willie," said he, laying the paper down, "what yer think of the bomb throwin' business f" "I'm agin it," was the prompt response. "Do bouncer at de saloon 'round de corner Crowed me out las' night." There is no real elevation of mind in a contempt of little things, It is on th P � e contrary, from the narrow views that we consider those things of little importanoe, which have, in fact, such extensive cense- quences,—Fe nelon. To Be Given Away P'arinoe"ffTOOH PONDsurrounding R.enea wordseacees o Pour Ladles.; find and mark with pen ori melt each face girth a cross andsend to us With 25 cents in silver for a box of our CORAL TOOTH POWDER. Your name and address w 11 be re- :istered in the order reeclved and the nam, mai valnnble and useful articles innumera ed in this advertismentwill be given away- the fit sttothe first answer and so on all through, The middle rewards and the ending ones are as good as the first. CORAL TOOTH POWDER is one of the most perfect cleansers and beautifiers of tho teeth and gams in the world. and does not contain a single injurious ingredient. FIRST AWARDS 1 Ii sndsomfw lined Cake Basket.elyplated, 2 to 5 Four beautifully engraved and engraved gold plated Tete -a -Tete Sets. I{uiv6 to ea. i2 Seven half-doz. silver plated Table Cea 13 Spto 20oons,Eight Half-doz. heavily plated 21 One Ladies or Gent's Solid Gold Watch 22 One Gold lined and beautifully en- ;raved Cake Basket. 23 to 30 Eight doznickel silver Tea Spoons 40 to 50 Eleven pairs trlppleplatecl silver lugar Tongs. 53 One Ladies or Gent's Silver Watch. 75 One Tete -a -Teta Setheavilyplated and engraved. 100 One Ladles or Gent's Bicycle. 101 to 125 Twenty five half-doz. heavily silver plated Tea Spoons. 126 to 136 Eleven Pairs nipple silver plated Sugar Tongs. 137 to 145 Nino Solid Silver Thimbles. 14610150 Five handsome Ladies orGears Dressing Cases. MIDDLE AWARDS 1 One handsome geld iill:d 14k. Ladies or Gent's Watch. 2 Ono beautifully engraved and silver piatedTete-a-Teta bet. 3 One open face stem -wind and set hand- some Nickel Watch. 4 One handsome Ladies or Gent's Silver tVatcli. 5 Onegoldlined&engraved Cake Basket 6 to S Three pairs trippls silver plated sugar Tongs. 0.210 half-doz each, silver plated knives a'ul Forks. 11 to 25 7rifteen Half-doz. Tea Spoons, sil- ver plated, extra quality. 26 to 30 Five handsomely engraved and s.iver plated Tete -a -Tote Seto. 31 to 40 Ten tripple silver plated Sugar tonges.s. . 41 to 49 Nine Half-doz. silver plated Table Ilitciv 50 One very beautiful Gold lined and en- graved Cake Baslcot. CONSOLATION AWARDS 1 Handsome 14k. Gold Riled Ladies or Gent's Watch, Waltham or Elgin Movement. 2 One hat ils,,mo Bresing Case. 3 One beautifully engraved and silver plated Tete-a-ife Sot. 4 die 5 2 svo open etface bevelled glass Nickel Watches, handsome, serviceable and good limo -keepers. 6 to 1e0 .faun Half-doz heavily silver plated Tea Spoons. 11 to 20 Ten very handsomely engraved and go]d lined Cake Baskets. Otto 30 Ten solit] s,lverThimbles. 3110 35 Five Elegantly engraved and sil- ver 36 to 40 Five oated pen faces bevelled glass Nickel Watches, handsome, serviceable and good Cilie-ke.'perfi. 41 tot 49 Nine doz. Nickel Tea Spoons first- cla s rlualtt3.. 50 One beautiful Gold Watch, Ladies or Gent's Waltham or Elgin mo'ement.ad' will give tin any person sethe nd is above1 for u4 Boxes of CORAL TOOTH POWDER a Pair of Hand- some individual Sales and Peppers, fine in Design and Workmanship, of lard Mel al and. Heavily Silver Plated. Tile names of patrons who el loose to do this will be entered in the Com - petit o,Y for the ether rewards as well es positively lge'etthn;; the :felts and Peppers whlr•li willbe scntb.y mail with the TOOTH POWDER. This is only for i ndividuals. Our object inseliingto you at 25 cents the retail p11008. we ate getting the middle man's profit and giving the public the benefit these rewards advertise our TOOTH POWDER, to CONDITIONS The first person marking 1hefaces a ri eetienclosing 25 cents for a h x of SNOW' J'L•, and T OOTIj: POWDER, gots-the first reward addo on. each person in order to the end. so Names tint red for re1'ward, mark at place post, i m orris of post- mark posted, not when received by ns, thus those far away are as fairly treated as t neater to its, hose PLEASE NOTICE --We cannot of tions lette do not'comply with our conditions above. Plea e mention tills paper. utious printed The Tooxu Powrii•u will be mailede. you the fol 'owing oir receipt of y, lir fetter. bOMPETITION ; CLOS'LS March iS Seven days will be allowed fore th, IStus from a distan re. after namesan1each, 8. sesofa.'l. unities 'which •thenatdesrillbep b- sectirin.,t;• e.rr wards will be Sort IiAhadi n Toronto l'alaira. No charges of any sort other than the price of the.'Too•rrrI a owce ii Besure a,n.d write name auii post office i,ddress Wilt* and yeti: u t y, Please address all communications FOXM TINRG ��il A �4iVl� CO. 2Q5 Spadlna Ave, Toro neo, Can. Affiliated with the Preventine and Remedy