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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-3-19, Page 6t ‘1. se with a joy too great to hear—the teara 11 n ED By Lev E .. evoteld come to my eyes. However, I tried to hide them front, lihn, and turn- " Ing away as if to look around the rooni , Isaul as olearly as emotion would let me: "I shall have to be awful neat and , nice if I am th live in such rooms as this ,0-loat the Wharf Waif. hear." 0 "1 daresay you will find Mere Lucas a severe teacher in that matter," • "Ana," still keeping my head turned rn, 13ecae a, Princess. "I got to be awf al -good if I'm to be"— here another sob choked me for a mo- ment or two—``a friend like of yours. It'll be dreadful long loreI learn enough for that." That's the easiest lesson of all. said. he. "There's only one rule to remem- ber if you wouldbe good, and that rule governs rich and poor, witty and simple, aU human beings from one end of the earth to the other. It is amply to be honest and treat me and others as you would have use and others to treat you." Could that be ail.? I asked myself. Could that rule alone make him so good to me? It fook me a long while to real- ize that the practice of this simple doc- trine made him so admirable. "And now, little friend," said he tak- ing up his -lee and lighting it again, "as the g nor a idea seems pretty clear, let us coasts to practical particulars. What shall we do this afternoon for t beginning?" • "Whatever you tell me to do I'll try and do it, master." "Call me Tares. That is my name," I heard his name then for the first time, aud it seemed as strange and uu- eommon as any part of this new life. "Tares," I repeated. "What is my name to be?" "Why, to be sure, you must leave a, new name." And then after searching for a minute or two in silent time ght he said: "I think we will call you Aura. It is pleasant to the ear, and it has a pretty significance," I know now that Aura is a diminntivo form of a word that means the nymph or second state of the chrysalis befoee it takes wings. woman.= BY sruelan anitealannter. "Come." said 1 to myself, "here's duff to fill up with at any rate." But I found that it as a savory dish —macaroni au gratin leknow now—and that was not leaf base besides which there was plenty of it, and to niy great relief Tams took all that I left. Then in came another dish—cutlets, with paper frills around the bones,and pota- toes frothed up in a fashiou us odd .as everything • else, and by this time I began to wonder when this sort of thing was going to end. 1 iowever, there was no more to eat except fruit after that, for which 1 was thauefrd, as my appetite was fully satisfied, aud I did not nite to refuse lest Tares should. think I was dis- pleased with my food. But the oddity of the whole meal was capped, by Mere Lucas bringing in a large bright pot after dessert and fining two small cups with hot coffee, which we had to drink Without milk, "1 usually smoke a pipe with my coffee," add Tares. "Do you object'?" . "Gant Ie1 replied. "It whet likely." He filled his pipe slowly in grave silence, and I watched him, tramline,: I -with anxiety, for I felt that he was about to deoide my fate. He had not yet spokeu a word with regard to my future, waiting until my bodily needs were satisfied and my mind was in a better condition to grasp fresh ideas before opening a subject which to him at least was of such weighty importance. "I have been very silent," he said after lifting his eyes and regarding 'me for a moment with kindly solicitude, "because I have had a great deal to settle in my own mind. But that is settled new, and if you like we will talk about"—he turned his chair round so as to face me and added, after a silent puff at his pipe --"about toanorrow." "To-nittreete" I echoed. "What's a-goin to happen then?" "That is what we must try to decide. To -morrow at nine o'clock 1 shall go to the pottery where I work" "You ain't a-goin to sand me away till 9 toanorrer mornin?" said I joyfully. "No. Mere Lucas will take care of yon to -night Have you any notion what you shall do after?" "Yes," I replied resolutely. "Imade my mind up to it while I was in the station 'us. I shall go back to Shadwell. 110 g0011, 1 got to live and face it out like the rest on us. And 1 can't get livin wheee 1 ain't known. I'll go hack to the Joy. Dessay I'll get off witb a punch or two. Then Puttyll come round and give me a job, 'cause he knows I don't nick the beer nor the coppers." "1 think 1 umst ask one question. Are you relatel to that man in any way?" "Not me. I don't remember ever havin no relatives." "He is not even a friend?" "I told you I ain't got no friends—not one. If I had, do you think I should ha' gene and done what I did down there in the meshes Greenwick way?" He shook his head. Then, after a pause, he asked nee if I thought I could. do something better than go back to the old life. "No," said I, "I can't think of no- thing else as I'm fit for and as would do me better. Can you?" "Yes," he replied, laying down his pipe, and leaning forward with a new light flashing in his deep, earnest eyes he confirmed: "I can think of some - thine much totterYou are fitter for a new lie than the old." "Yon don't mean an institootion?" I asked, chilled to the heart with the dread that be should think me worse even than I was as I recollected the proposals with regard. to living a new life made by the missionery who visited rue in the station house cell. "No, I do not mean anything of the sort" he replied, with a flash of angry repugnance in his eyes. "On the con- trary, I am thinking of removing you from all associations with the world you have liyed ie and its people—of placing you in a position where nothing shall recall the past -sof separating yon from previous con ions as cornpletely as " you were to be born again upen another earth. To do that you must think that life begins from to -day; that the part )E voar Iffe in the past has been 0.o.se-1 telt. You must abandon all the ways aed customs to wifich you have 'been nsed. Even the lauguage, such as it is, that you speak to -clay must be changed for a new one. Every link in the chain that connects you with the past must be broken. You must begin just like a child who has everything to learn. Do you understand me?" "I'm a-gettin at it. Here, it's like as if I'd never been picked up out of the river and was just a-goin straight to lievin'g, rant it?" " What is your notion. of heaven?" "Well, I've heerel say it's a kinder place where you dont have to do nothin but sit about and KITT vourse'f and never -want any moee'n. you've got" "Then it isn't at all Urea that, for you .have . more to do than you have done'yet awhile, and there will be pain as well as, pleasure, and you ' will never cease to want something better than. eou have." • eft stands to reason I must don lot if I'm to learn everything like a kid, and. how rat segoiii to do it's- * lioker if I ain't to speak- my own, language." • • "Learn another." . It puzzled me to see how this Was to be done, until, . seeing my perplexity, Tares said: "We will 'help you—Mere LUCCA and I." "Will you, master?" said I, my heart leaping with delight at the prospect this promise opened. 'I'll clo just whatever you tell me—as fur as 1 .oan. But Iain't clever." "That remains to be seen." "1 can't write nor nothink." "You will soon learn to write with those long fingers," "But waat am I to do for a liviri all the dine adearie?" "It will bo time enough to think of that when you have learnt what you can do best. Mere Lucus will always fend somethingfor us to eat aid drink, and there's a room up Stairs which you can have for yourself." "What!" I exclaimed. "Here! Ain't yoe troin to, send ' me away Irons. tide IOU& "IN et while you wish to stay." I could not help it. Something rose in my heart and seemed to choke me CHAPTER IX. THE FIRST STEP. "We must. think eleret clothes next, Aura," said Tares when I had agreed to accept the strange eame he proposed. "You will want quite a lot of things— some to wear indoors, some to go out in, others to change and so on." "Why, I ain't got no money," said I, taken aback by the very first condition of living in a new and civilized "Luckily I have—somewhere," said he. feeling in his pockets. "Ah, hare it "A lot o' cost alot o' money," remarked, as he looked at his purse. 'That's true. If there s not enough here to pay for all you buy, glee one of these cards and have the things sent home. to be paid. for On delivery." I looked in the purse and saw gold, 'more than I had ever before seen at one time. My utmost possession had never amounted to more than a shilling, and no one had thought fit to trust me with a larger suna, I lail the purse down with a vague feeling that 1 might be taking undue advantage of Tares' generosity. When he spoke 1 stoppee I him. "Hold on," said I, "I'm tryin, to thialc. , this out. I ain't sure whether I ougnter take all this money or didn't oughter." I "Good. Pnzzle it out and take it or refnse it as it seems to you. right or wrong." I stuck my knuckles in my hips, drew a long breath and taxed my sluggish power of reasoning to its utmost, while Tares smoked on. in grave silence, too considerate to suffer any sign to appear in his face of the amusement my per- plexity must have given him. "Tares," said 1 at length, "I'm sagoin to take that money, erariseif you was in want and I had money I should like you to take it off me." "Bravo, little friend!" said he joy- fully. "You have grasped the meaning of the golden rule already. Now you had baiter go out and buy what; you want. Do you know the neighbor- hood?" "No, but if yon tell me where the shops is I'll fiad 'em. I ain't afraid of astine my ways." "Ei.her of the streets that pass the church will lead you into the Westmins- ter Bridge road, where there are plenty f s." I nodded, but made no movement, for the question what sort of things would. be suitable to my new state threw me into another spell of cogitation. "Would you like leIere Lucas to ao -with you?" Tares asked. "If you 'think she knows better 'an me what 1 °lighter wear." "I would rather you exercised your OWIl judgment. I want you • to walk alone as soon. as possible." 1 understood what he meant by that phrase. It was really as if I were born again and. learning to walk. "You ain't got any fancy, like? It don't matter to you what I wear, do it?" "Oh, yes, it does." he replied, with a laugh. "I should be sorry to see you in rags or ugly clothes." "Well, look here," said I after scratch- ing my head in troubled meditation for a minute or two, "I'll do the best I ken." With that I left him, but before]: reached the Westminster Midge road I just at that moment my eyes fell on a better understand her, she made nie a girl of about nay own aee who was step- little speech, beginning with, "Quo je ping into a tram car. There was nothing vons dise, mapativre petite rham' sena.' about her that was ugly. On the cou- —a phrase which I, remember .also be - teary, she looked exceedingly pretty; cause of its frequent after recurrence— yet, strange to say, could not remelt).- and ending with a 'hearty laugh when ber having seen any one like her in she found. that I failed aetogether to Shadwell. A light burst upon me, make ,anythina out of it. This, laugh, "Thet's it I" said I to myself with con- ! however, she checked suddenly with the 'Fiction. "I got to dress like one of the recollection of my pitiable condition, tipper ten." Without further delibera- and giving me a pat on the cheek she • tion I went iuto the first 'large draper's wound up with a tender "pattere cherie, 1 otune to, and singling out the nicest' va!" and left me to myself. looking young lady behind the counter 1 approached her and said: "Here, I want a set o' clothes like what you're' got on." The young lady regarded me in frigid. astonishment for a moment, and then, Without deigning any reply, moved flees and cleanliness of everything. Ta - away to another part of the counter. ras had given it up to me, removing the After waiting a reasonable time for her things he needed to the garret overhead return and finding myself neglected, I while was out spending 1118 walker who had his eye on me. moorney, 0 turned round and appealed to a shop- The only thing he had everlooked was a . revolver hanging on the wall ov th "Here, ain't nobody going to serve bead of the bedstead. With eager de- light unpacked the things and spread me?" I asked, "What do you want, my good girl?" them out to advantage. Thee, impelled by an intense feeling of gratitude, he asked in a patronizing One. . "Whys rye told the youpg woman up rushed down stairs to fetch Taras that there. I wants a reg'lar outet. And he might share my joy in looking at you needn't run away with the idea as I them. He was not in. ain't got enough to pay, for it, 'cause ::(TO CnNTINITED) have. There you are, said I, opening the purse. "And if thet ain't enough AIVIATEUR ENAMELING. you're to send, the things home to the party as give me that there card, and they'll. be 'paid for on 'livery." He looked at the card and instantly called in a loud. peremptory, tone: "Forward, Miss Hopi -ems, and as the stony young lady came down with a ilusla on her faoe he added with tho same severity, "be good. enough to give . this young lady every ettention," Loolting daggers, Miss Hopkins asked me what wanted. "I told ye oncet I'm a-goin to dress 'xaely saraa as what you are," ande examining her dress added, "Gimme some collars and cuffs with buttons in 'esa like yoarn." "One pair?"' asked Miss Hopkins, tak- ; lug the cuffs from a box, "lero. Three sets of everything, and the best you're got." "Anything else?" "Course, Ghent° a frock like yourn." "You will have to have that made. It's not my department." "Well, ain't yon got nothin I can wear now?" "Show the young lady that line in tea gowns," said the shopwalker. Mies Hopkins brought Ille a tea gown in pale pink silk, with plaits from the neck, telling me it was the right lenatlx and would fit me, as it was intended to be worn loose. It gave nte a thrill of delight only to look at it, and my satis- faction was conipleted by the perfect assurance that I had never seen any- thing lils.e it in Shadwell. "That's the sort of frock you'd wear to walk out in along of a gentleman, ain't et?" I asked. "No: this is only for indoors." "I'll have it" Something quiet but still lovely in morning- gowns was offered, and. hed °need them, and also a dark skirt winch I might wear with a jersey as a walking dress. "Is that all?" asked Miss Hopkins when she had got thus far. "'Taint likely 1 What else are you got cee?" The young woman flushed arain with indignation at this question However, as the shopsvelleer still hovered near, she was constrained to answer me, and in this way I got all that was requisite for indoor wear. "I think that is everything," said Miss Hopkins, looking at the pile of things I had bought. "Hold on!" said I. "What do you wear outside when you're a walldn?" -""I wear a sealskin jacket." she repli- ed, with a little diguity in. her voice. "Let's have a look at it." The sta,tely shopwalker himself fetch- ed me a jacket. "This is the only one we have in stock that Will fit you," he said, laying it down tenderly before me. I looked at and touched the beautiful skin in silent delight. "The price," said the shopwalker with slight hesitation, "is 15 guineas, which includes a toque to match' "Give us a-liker at -the toque," said I in doubt. But the small fur can ravish. - ed me; the name itself showed that it could never. have been worn in Shad - we'leWl. e could say £15 pounds for tbe jacket and toque," said the shopwalker as these reflections passed throegh iny mina. • "It ain't what you'd call cheap, i9 it?" said I. • "Pardon me, madam, it is very cheap "Then 1 won't have it," said I firmly, but with an inner sigh of disappoint- ment. However, on the shopwalker explain- ing that he had employed the term relative] and tent no better fur could It was a pleasant room, with two win- dows looking out onto the river, plainly furnished, but with a delightfully fresh and 'Wholesome look about it, due per- haps to the whitertess of the Inc., the mutein mutable and the extreme neat - be bought in L mdon, and that the "article" was fit for a duchess to wear, I altered my decision and told him "I'd have it and chance it." Some gloves and other things sng- gested by Miss 'Hopkins, who became quite atniable in the end, cotupleted my purchases, and as they amounted to a great deal more than Tares' purse em- bed to stop two or three times; to do a eeined it was arranged that they should think" over the problem before me, and be sent home with a bill. the question was not satisfactorily solved ' 'Ye ti send 'em on sharp, 'cause I when I found myself in the street of w sets to put 'em on." said I and then shops. A Milliner's gay display at- aft3r getting some information from tracted me' first, and bearing in mind Miss Hopkins with respect, to the kind, that Tares objected to anything ugly 1 of boots she wore and where she bought fixed my attention on a hat witha high them—a shop, the very best in London, crown and turned up rim of crushed she assured me, and only just across the strawberry plush, with two ostrich feathers, one emerald and the other majenta, drooping gracefully down the back. This seemed to my eves the most love- ly thing imaginable. and I thinkI should have gone in and bought it had it not suddenly occurred to me that I had seen something in this style on high days and had so perplexed nee at first in finding holidays in Shadwell, and that I was to out what distinguished the better class sunder myself entirely, from all modes of people from those among whom I had of the past. Then a little farther on a show of silk handkerchiefs for the neck, spotted and flowered, in bright yellow' and other vivid hetes, appealed once more to my sense of the beautiful. But here again I was confronted by a mem- ory of ladies from Jamaica road going off on Whit Monday to Epping, forest in a von. The same considered= drew me away from fancy boots and mantle maker's, where my eyes were fascinated by a long stamped velvet jacket with a trimming of beads and bright steel. "Whatever in the world am I to wear?" I asked myself, coming to a stand once more under the railway arch and folding my anus upon mychest in desperation. "Is there anything any ways pretty that they don't wear in Shadwell?" road—I went off to funsla shopping, with a fluttering sense of exaltation which hate not hitherto presented itself to my imagination in the wildest dream of happiness. This mental excitement sharpened ray wits wonderfully. I felt I had the key to the mystery 'of that new life which lived mid adopting their peculiar ways. To be good. a,nd nice I must imitate Taras and Miss Hopkins. I had noticed that this young lady's hands and nails were very clean, that hair was carefully arranged and also that she walked with an elastic and 'nimble step and an up- right carriage, very different from my shuffling gait and slovenly bearing. So I lifted my feet , from the ground, straightened rny back and stepped out briskly for Lambeth with my parcel of boots under my arm and my imagina- tion teeming with hopeful ideas. IVIere Lucas opened the door and tak- ing me upstairs showed nee a room which she made me understand was to be mine. Then laying her hand on my arm, carefully mouthing her words and speaking in a loud voice that I might nn Easy Way of Decorating Pottery Alto* Gleisonne Method, A bit of clolionne enamel, perhaps a 8/11411 Wise or pitcher is always a pretty ornament. CI oieon ne is rather expensive, and if yon have inherited none, nor had any thrust upon you by your friends,' yon may acquire it at a trifling outlay of time and money. In fect,if you are clever, you ORII nzake cloissone youreelf, perhapsnot mute as well as an old heathen Chincee; put well enough to Satisfy yourself and dot:oleo the very clot:afar not even the most cloisonne- mad indivinual can distinguith the differ- enotanthitt is, at long range. The delicate tracery of fine gold or silver wit° filled in yvith plates of rich. deep colors, like raosanfo, is imitated quite stun cessfully and easily. First, one must buy the pottery—a vase, say—which 'Is sold with suitable patterns already molded upon it, all of which are quite flat, like mosaic. The pottery rosemblee ordinary creatn-oolored terra-aotta,and 11 needs no firing. The vase must first be sized to get a good foundation for the enamel colors, whioh otherwise would be absorbed. Sptelt aoquer is used for the purpose—n very little is needed and must be spread quite smooth and even over the surface of the terra-cotta. A good sized camel's hair brush is used. The next process is to put in the out - !lees of the design with metallic paint. This represeuts ono of the main cbarac- teristics of the genuine cloissone. The gold is in the form of powder, which must be mixed to the proper consistency with some of the tincture sold with it, It should be mixed as dry as possible and laid on with a very fine omens hair brush in all the outlines of the pattern, whiohe it will be found, aro monk into rather lower relief than the rest of the design. The. gold paint should so fill them up that they an eveu with the stir- faee of the remainder of the plate. Gold is most frequently used for this purpose, but copper, bronze and silver are also to be bad. When the work is thee far advanced, it must be laid :wide until it is once more dry, and then the odloring is begun. The 'colors are sold in tiny cans. More than fifty sbades are to be had, the paler ones being used principally for 'backgrounds, the darker and raiher tints serving for tbe main portions of the design. A delicate touch is necessary that the colors may not' encroach beyond the metallic outlines. The object, of course, is to get the color as smooth and glossy as actual china. It an en-roc:tally brilliant effeot is delved, this may be obtained by scatter= its; metallic powder ov,er certain portions of the painting, The worker should paint those parts of the pattern to be thus ornamented first after gilding the outlines. Tho colors or enamels must not be thinned with turpentine, but with a speoial mixture, a thinning medium, sold for the purpose, which he i no bad effect upon the bright- ness of the colors. As with so many -other and similar arts it is by no means the most elaborate- ly executespecimens that are the most effective, and an equally good result may often be obtained lay a simple mixture of cream, black and rose or blue. ENGINEERS OF THE FUTURE. ABOUT EARLY LAMBS. Wads /article Tells You now to Kiln Press and Slap Them. Raising early lambs is proving a, profit- able iudustry to those who understand the industryfrom start to finials. Unfor- tunately, judging from the appearance of many of the lambs shipped, many people fail to understand that the mode of dreSs- ing has a very important effect upon the price obtained. To obtain a satisfaotory profit it is essentiel that the early lamb present a neat and. inviting appearance when exposed for sale. This is almost as important as care and kill in fatten ing the lambs. Early in the season lambs should not weigh more thin) 25 pounds, and as the season advances buyers want heavier. They should be grown as quickly as pos- nitanY To sum. elate to reach the regnired weight, and should be fat and plump. Late summer and fall lambs will not sell for the spring artiele. - The earlier Iambi; oan be sold in the large city markets the higher the price. In killing, cut the throat, melting as large an insertion as possible, but be cerMin that the large artery' is severed. The Iamb should then be hung up by the heels in order to bleed thoroughly and avoid oiling the wool about the nook or 'head. in dressing early lambs, out them open only from the tail to the breaet bone, but as theweather beconses warnalt is best; to out down to the bead, Remove the entrails, leaving in the haslet. The bead, feet and skin should all be left on. Skin tbe hind legs and draw the caul over theta and well down over the kidneys, teouring it with skewers. nlit the caul suilialently to let the kidneys through, and put in what are known as beak -Nets or spreaders. These are pieces of wood about 14 inelies inches long for an ordinary sized °amass and pointed at bath ends. Bp careful that the batik sots are not too long, or there is dauger of breaking the ribs and injuring the ap- pearance of tbe lamb. In putting thein In, fasten one end in the flank and the other in the breast dose up to the first rib and place the other stick in an oppos- ite direction so that the sticks oross in the back just behind the kidneys so as to open the carcass in such a way as to present a good appeare.noe, making It as fiat AS posei b le. Let the caroass hang until perfectly cool, and before taking down see that all time bloody liquid has been removed froni the obest. Replace the skin on the hind logs, cover the exposed portions of the flesh with clean white muslin, and sew the whole carcass up neatly in burlap or bagging The aocoinpanying illustra- tion from the Cornell station shows the appearance it should present. Mark tho package plainly with the names of the shipper and the firm to whom it is sent, and ship by express. Notify the consignee by mail.—N. Y. World. Electric Locomotives Will Enable Theta to Wear Gold -Laced Uniforms or • Even Dress' Suits. The Baldwin -Westinghouse electric lo- comotive, just completed, is the first one of tahe kind in the world, and, besides the fact that it is expected to make seventy- five miles an hour, it has other claims to attention. - Not the least of these is the revolntion that -it will doubtless create in the lives of locomotive engineers, and they belong to one .of the most important classes of eiti- zees in this country. Shielded behind the glass windows tbat frame them in, with no smoke'soongrime or grease, there is no 'nitwit why the en- gineers of the fixture should not dress ex- actly as the president of the road does, unless,a uniform be deemed desirable. In that ease it may he gold laced and as handsome as that of a captain on an ocean liner. The new locomotive is tbirty-eight' feet long by nine feet wide. It is mounted, on eight 'wheels, forty-two inches in diame- ter. The wheels are of 'wrought. iron, epoke-centered, with heavy steel tires. The inachiee without the motor weighs thirty tons. The eleotric equipment will add thirty tons. A porn partmen t eight feet -.K3:flare is all that will be required to operate the me- chanism, and the reinabaing' space may be utitizect its any way that is desired, The electric equipment consists of four 250 horse -power motors, geared so as to• regulate the speed. In appearance tbese nm otors are like those used on trolley cars, but they are much larger. One man will run them. He will be called the driver. He will view the track afrom a window direotly in trent and above a powerful searchlight.. Air-brakenwill be operated just is on the Steam engines. There. will be an electric air -pump, ani it is claimed that it will be possible to atop u 'train in perhaps half the epace of time that is now required. The healthy glow disappearing from the cheek and, moaning and restlesiness at night are sines symptoms of worms in children. Do not fail to get a bottle of Mother Graves' Worm Exterminator; it is an effectual medicine. Feed for ENVOS 1V9th Early Lambs. One of tho salost 'successful raisers of early lambs in Connecticut, Charles E. Lyman, writes: "I think a mixture of cern, peas and wheat middlings. equal parts ley weight, will produce tho best rettults of anything I know of for ewes stickling lambs. Care should be taken in not over -feeding the ewes with this mixture while the lamb is quite young, for the comblnatinn will produce very rich milk," C. B. Lyman, of Massachns- eon% thiuks eorn and oats with linseed meal as good as anything. Much attention has been given to the whole question of raising early lambs at Cornell Experimens Station„ and the director, I.P.Robertnyrrites: "Mix equal parts by vreight of cottonseed meal, oorn meal (or whole cern if the sheep are young), ORtfit and bran; the oats and bran may be left out if it is not convenient to procure both, as it will make little differ- ence which one is fed, but if both are handy, put them in. Also, give as much good olover hey as will be eaten up clean, and as many pounds of mangolds and turnips per day per sheep as it eats of olover hay. The drinking water must be abundant, clean and always accessible. On the side of the pen. slat up a small place so that the lambs oan retire to a separate trough, where some corn meal and bran should be placed every morn - leg. If any remains uneaten, the trough should be cleaned and fresh material put in. It will often pay to buy some sugar and sprinkle over this lamb ration. This will induce them to go to eating early and it will tend to make them eat more of it,thoreby making up for any lack of nourishment from their mothers. This is all written .with the supposition that these are early lambs which It is desired to force as rapidly as possible for the early lamb market. Lambe for the fall m tritet are injured by being forced rapidly Whet but a few weeks old." .tust Like altran. A well-known woman of this city was plaoning to give a reception, and one eveuing, wben she had beet) remarking to ber husband that it was fully time the invitations were out, he resolved to give her a pleasent surprise by sending them all off without her knowledge. So he got his wife's address book and went to work, going right down the line of ad- dressee,supposing of conrse,they were all calling acquaintances. When s his wife rethrned from the evening's entertains ment to which she had been, lie said to her gayly: :"Well, Mary, I've got all the invitations off." "You have," wits the pleaeod answer; "why how did you know vvhoin to invite?" "Oh, well, I got your andress book and went down the list. thought I would surprise you." "If you wanted to surPrise mo you hone Succeeded admirably," said his wife, "Do you know whom you have asked? The butcher, hOlise ineeners, laundresses, dressmakere and-ney own ft:kande. I hope that I will bave v,ery few such surprises. --New York Herald. IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA., Conan Doyle Gives Ills Views Unen the National Spirit of American 6tixous. A. Conan Doyle, recently returned to England after a lecturing tour in the United State* writes to the London Titans as folluws:— A ri Englitaliman whet travels in the United States conies back, according to mg experince, with tvvo impressions, whin') are so strong that they overshadow all others, One is of the exoeseive kind- ness whloh Is showu to individual Eng- lishmen, The other is of the bitter feel- ing which appears to exist both in the prose and among the publio against his own country. The present ebullition is only one of those recurrent crises whioh have marked the whole history of the two nations. The feeling is always molder- ingsand the least breath of discussion sets it in a blaze. I believe, and have long believed, that the greatest danger which can threaten our empire is the existence of this spirit of hostility in a nation which Is already greet and powerful, but which is destined to be far snore so in the future. Our statesmen have stood too long with their faces toward the east. To discern our best hopes as well as our gravest clan- , gers they must turn the other way. As to the cause of this feeling, it is not so unreasonable as Etsglishmen usually contend. It is the fashion among us to apportion the blame between the Irish - American and the politician who is in search of his vote. But no ouch euper- Rohn explanation as this oan cover the fact that the governors of thirty American states should unhesitatingly indbrse a presidential message which obviously leads straight to war. A dislike rto *do- ly spread and so fierce in its expression cannot be explained by the imported ani- mosity of the Celtics Irishman Few Englishmen could be found now to contend that we vrere justified in thew views of taxation which brought on the first Aanerioan war, or in the question of geerchlug neutral vessels which was the main cause ot the second. 'The war of 1812 Would possibly only ocoupy two pages out of 500 in an English history, but it bulks very largo in an American one, and haa len many bitter memories behind it. Theq there was the surly attitude which Engl.-and adopted towards the States after they had won their independence, the repeated frictions during the leapleonie epoch, and the attack upon an American frigate by a British tiftr-gun ehip in time of peace. After the war there was the Florida dispute in tbe time of Andrew Jackson, the question of the Oregon line, the settlement of the Maine anti New Brunswiek line, and, finally, the hostile attitude of the most of our press at the time of the civil war. Since then we have bad two burning questions, that of the Alabama claims and that on the Beh- ring sea flsberies, culminating in this of Venezuela. The history of this country, then, as it presents itself to an American Is simply a long succession of quarrels With ourselves, and how oan It be won- dered at if he has now reathed that ahronio state of sensitiveness and suspicion which WO have not outgrown ourselves in the ease of the Erotic's. If WO are to blame as a community for some at least of these unfortunate histori- cal Incidents, WO are oven mere to blame as individuals for the widespread bitter- ness which is felt against us. We have never had a wrrna ungrudging word of heartfelt praise for the great things which our kinsmon have done, for their unwearying industry, their virtues in peace, their doggedness in war, their un- paralleled clemency when war was over. We have always fastened upon the small, rude detail and overlooked the groat foots behind. In our shocked contemplation of an expectoration upon the floor we have lost sight of universal suffrage and equal education. Our travelers, from Mrs. Trollope and Dickens onward, have been surprised that the versatile bard -working men who often combine ten trades in one to adapt them- selees to the varying needs of a raw -grow- ing community had not the manners of Oxford or the repose of Sussex. They could not understand that tbis rough vitality and overbearing energy -which carried them through their task implled those eonsplementary defects WhIO11 Must go with universal virtues. Of all English travelers to the States there was hardly one who did not make mischief with his reminiscences until, in our own days, Mr. Bryce did something to rectify the balance. And our want of charity and true insight are the more inexcueable, since no one has written more obarmingly of England than Washington Irving. Emerson and Holmes. Our journals and public snots are in the habit now, as a rule, of alluding to America and Ameri- cans in the most friendly, •wity, and that must in time have its effect, if recent unhappy events do not change it, We should, in my opinion, lose no opportun- ity of doing those little graceful acts of kindness which are the practical sign of a brotherly sentiment. Above all I should like to see an A.nglo-American society started in London, with branches all over the empire for the purpose of promoting good feeding, smoothing over frietion, laying literature before the pub- lic wbich will show them bow strong are tbe arguments in favor of an Angio-Am- OfiCatl alliance,and supplying the English press with the American side of the ques- tion and vice versa. Such an organiza- tion would, I am sure, be easily founded, and would be useful Work toward that greatest of all ends, the consolidation of the Englisb-speaking races. Down the stair Railings Infinite variety is one of the chief charms ot Miss Ellen Terry, the actress. A. role which she DOW has in contempla- tion shows tho versatility of her genius. Miss Terry does gracefully what no other woman would dare attempt at ail. It is said anion,g her feminine friends that when moved by the spirit her iinproniptu gymnastics arewonderful and amlising to a degree. 'though not a bit of an ath- lete and not at all up to date in the mat- ter of muscle culture, she has retained elwaye her wonderful flexibility a body and gracious suppleness of limb. It was but a few weeks ago she went to call on a sister professional recovering from a long I1111ORS. Miss Terry was asked upstairs into the siok Woman's bedroom, and she spent an hour condoling and tea sipping. The revived friend followed her visitor out- into the upper hallway, , but there Miss Terry Made her affectionate adieus. "Yon must not think of following me` below, my child," she insisted, gently. "Indeed," with a funny Mete twinkle glowing 1st hor eyes, "I am perfectly well able to see myself down so good -by, good - by !" Whereupon, with a soft chuckle and warm handshake, this charming queen of tragedy and comedy put OMR knee over the top of the long inclined stair railing and slid like a rocket down into, the hall below. There she gave her skirts a shake, her bonnet a few pats and let herself out the front cloor, ensiling gayly at the speechless amazement of her friend, who had watched the performances 'from the landing above.