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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-4-9, Page 2LIFTED BY LOVE:: Or, limq the Wharf Waif Became a Princess. etiBLISnED ar SPECIAL 1RRANGmIBNT. • There we entered a large gallery which was already crowded with well dressed people. The walls were covered with pictures. I may say without exaggera- , tion that there were hundreds of paint- ings. There were some large ones re• presenting battle scenes, and others quite small, for the most part portraits, but , the greater number, and those which attracted most attention, illustrated pri- son and ends life in Russia and scenes , relating to the march of prisoners into Siberia. The misery of this awful march, the attendant horrors of t:.e etapes, where men and women, old and young, where the habitual criminal and , the tenderly nurtured girl, condemned ; without trial by the administrative pro- , cess, were herded together in loathsome garments without regard to decency or to health and with less care for their pre- , servation than would sae bestowed upon cattle, were shown in such vivid reality that one turned with a feeling of sick- ness from the canvas, as if the reek of eollution and disease steamed from them. "This is what made me a nihilist," 'paras said in a low voice. "You have seen all this?" I asked. He nodded. A plethoric young man with long hair was passing judgment on the picture in the loud tone of conceit. "Vigor. I grant you," he said. "But the thing is overdone. The effect he. aims at is spoiled by exaggeration. Borgensky may be a rabid nihi- list, but it is equally clear that he is making capital out of a political boom; in fact,'—he added in a confidential tuna—"he almost admitted the fact when I taxed him with it here the other day." "That is not true!",said Tares, raising his voice. The knot of admirers about the stout young dilettante turned round, and the youth himself, scanning Texas from ead to foot, said, with impudent con- tempt: "Beg pardon, may I ask who you are?" "If you were not a liar," replied Texas, ! "yon would know that I am Prince' Borgensky," It was in this way that I came to know who Taras was. • A wArtNING, One morning I was particularly bright and happy. Taras and I had risen early, c by arrangement made over night, and, gone to the flower market at Covent Garden, from which we returned laden with flowers, and I was then disposing them about our living room. Mere Lucas surprised me by repeating a phrase which she had not used for a long dine. "I'auvre cherie, va!" said she in a trembling voice, regarding me with tender commiseration in her broad, motherly face, as she stood before me with her hands planted on her massive hips. "Why do you say that, Mere Lucas?" I asked, for I could now speak with' tolerable fluency. "I have everything I want." "It is true, it is true. Thank heaven you have everything you de>ire." "Then why do you say `poor dearie" with that look of sadness?" "Why do I say it?" she said, echoing my words to get time for reflection. She hesitated. Her lips trembled as if she were about to tell something that prudence witheld, and then taking me by the arms and drawing me to her breast she got out of the difficulty by saying: "because I love you. Go, and with a sounding kiss she released me and went off to her kitchen. I accepted this feminine explanation then, but be- lore long the same expression cropped up again apropos of nothing when I was singing from sheer want of thought. 1 That set me wondering What was , there in my condition that appealed to her sympathy? I was no longer the de• I •piorable creature that first excited her t pity. Why would a merry laughnow and then be checked by a sigh as she squeezed my hand, or end in a rueful .shake of the head and a look of tearful sadness. Another phase of her affectionate re- ,gard added to my perplexity before I long. She became remarkably urgent in her praise of George Gordon and • lost no opportunity of bringing us to- gether, "Good day, Mme. Lucas," Gordon would cry in his cheery voice and exe- crable French when the door was open- ed to hila. "Fine weather, isn't it? Is M. Taras in his studio?" "I will go and see," Mere Lucas re sponded in good Norman, "but behold ma'in'selle all alone," and opening the sitting -room door she gave the poor man no option but to enter and pass a quarter of an hour with me, and a bad quarter of au hour it usually was for him owing to his very limited knowledge of French and my obstinate perseverance in speak- ing English only to Tares. ' He was a nice fellow and the most inti- mate friend of Taras. A stronger bond • of friendship existed between them than Taras and Kavanagh, perhaps because there was more weakness in Gordon's character, Kavanagh was undoubted- ly stronger ge in purpose and action, which was the reason, I believe, for Taras choosing him rather than Gordon as a guardian for me in case of accident. I liked Gordon for his honest simpli- city, his obvious kindness of heart and for a certain resemblance to Taras in personal appearance and some phases of character. fad: Taras, he was strong and big, fan and blue " eyed, careless in regard to dress -in striking contrast to Kavanagh, who always dressed perfect- ly and had never a hair astral°—and his voice was hearty and outspoken. They had. both the same good laugh, the same honest, open way of lookin you full in the eyes, the same gentleness and ready sympathy. Both might have been cast from the same mold, but Gor- don was the: roughcast, still needing the finishing touch and polish which gave 'Taras his immense superiority. Gor- don s eyes lacked the artistic depth and his expression the high intelligence and serious bent that distinguished Taras— ;tad as his manner was wanting in some quality which marked the high breeding and refinement of his friendIn their /lands more than anything the difference between them found expression, Gornes - CHAPTER XIV. • aonc's was pretty, with tapering fingers in the and a dimple. le. p knuckle, soft and slow in Movement. Taras had long, thin fingers with spatula. tips, and they were full of nervous energy,. "Ah, what a good husband he would make, that good M. Gordon?" Mere Lu- cas more than once explained. "So rich, so amiable. so gay and with such a good heart and so easy to lead !" " Brit it never' occurred to Me that I should load him. No ideaof marriage over entered my head at that time. ' Seeing that 1 failed to profit by her hints and that I was as far as ever from rel. -unsling Gordon es a possible husband, Mere t,ncas took more decisive means of .earning use against the danger which lay unseen beneath my over increasing attachment to Tares.. She found tine one morning alone in his workshop setting sores .fresh flowers in aha brown jar by the window. ' "It it gond to put•'fl•,wais where he may see iL'n:m when he turns from his ' •:r . bat•! -she, "for ilia • heart must be heevy, like a sick pelsenn without hope, when he - thinks ana thinks hoar of:er hoar of the • misery of his country. How gran d it hi" he added tarr.!r.t; to the litsize group, .ownear- ll• fitilehe,l, which Turas :at .1 modeled in the past • month freta tLo mailer si:ctnl:. " Ilon it strikes uue n ith pity and stiiu up one's heartI c.,ite would say that'actor beaten cmCat:.t.t bad no hope in the world. It is a:x;;"ilicent. \c, . tt> ;t tri Clint out of a teeee of soft, • osihx=•'J.ty he :rakes: a rasa:s which fills one with sympathy for that poor Russian! It is grand to have that pow- er and the courage to practice it. But the gift was not meant for him. It should have been given to one with no wish to live, no love for home and friends, not to my dear. master. • How fond he is of the world, of simple things, of us, look you! See how sweet he is with child- ren and think what happiness, it would have Ispen to such a man to haves dear wife area children of his own to love!" The idea of Taras with a wife for his companion presenting itself to my se], fish mindfor the first time filled me ,with jealous terror. "Why should he not marry?" I asked, giving expression to my fear. "Because he ought not to marry. That is reason enough for him. His choice is made. He has offered to sac- , rmfice his life for his country, and with that fate banging over him he will nevrr marry. Believe me, my .poor little friend, for I know my master, and Itell you that he will never marry—never, never!" CHAPTER XV, Aw4RF\'LNG. I understood, now the meaning of Mere Lucas' omnions headshakings, of her endeavor to promote an attachment between me and Gordon, and of this last measure by which she had shown me that Taras would never marry. She feared that my affection for him was ripening into love and that I should expect him to make me his wife. The revelation quite stupefied me, and I sank down silently on the stool by his bench, with tears that I could not ac- count for gathering in my eyes and a feeling of desolation and loss in my heart. Mere Lucas kissed me and went away with a little bob of sympathy. "He will never marry me," I -said. to myself, trying to realize my situation and find an explanation of the sadness that op- pressed me, Undoubtedly love, un- known to me, had been smouldering in my breast from the first moment that Taras had smiled at me, and to burst up into flame it only needed that unfortu- nate touch 'by which old Mere Lucas attempted to stifle it. "He will not marry me," I said. re- peating her words with a little addition of my own. Then slowly the graver import of her warning dawned upon me. His reason for avoiding marriage was not because he could not love, but be- cause he would not doom his wife to widowhood or exile to Siberia—because he knew that ere long he must die or be taken prisoner to Russia. At this perception a cold sweat burst out upon my brow, as if I had become aware for the first time of this impend- ing fate. taming to my room, I took myself to task for my want of vigilance. What had I done to guard his life since the night when I learned that it was in danger ? Nothing beyond carrying weapons in my pocket for a few weeks and listening when I found the chance to scraps of conversation that I could not understand, and these feeble at- tempts had beeh abandoned lately, and I had suffered myself to be lulled into a state of carelessness by the absence of any open sign of hostility toward Taras mad by his own disregard of precaution. But this apathy on the part of the secret enemy I had been Ied to expect from the conversation of Tares and his friend Kavanagh. They had said that probably no further attempt would be made for some months, TLose months were now passed. The critical time was at hand, for I had gathered from one or two remarks that any fresh offense to the czar would be the signal for a re- newed and final effort to silence Taras. That fresh offense was about to be com- mitted. The group of statuary was fin- ished. The work of castingand burning done, the striking allegory would be publicly exhibited for all the world to tally of. recalled nova; almost with stupefac• tion at my incredible indifference, an incident which proved that the secret enemy was on the alert and fully ac- quainted with Taras' design, The pro- prietor of the pottery at which it was intended to burn the clay group had called to inquire if the subject was of a cl. political character. Tares of course admitted frankly that it was, and when Mr. H—, for commercial reasons, had begged to decline to give any assistance in the production he asked Mr. H— what reason he had for suspecting that the work was of apolitical one, "My information, sir," said Mr. H—, "came in the form of an anonymous letter, and for that reason I felt that in justice to you I oughtto have a personal. verification of the fact before declining the commission." When Gordon heard of this, he laughed and declared that there was not a word of truth in the statement. "No anonymous letter was needed. Old H— has fonud out that you are Borgensky, the nihilist, and with the hope of knighthood before him and the dread of losing a sale or two in Russia he thfnits.it best to decline the job."" At the time that explanation was ac- cepted by me as readily as it was by Taras, but it was different with me now. I felt sure that the secret enemy had made this communication. Who could it be? Clearly some one who had seen the 'group, and, not less obviously, one ot the .Russian visitors win) . called e on Teras. But which of them? To lay eyes they all seemed pretty much alike -meek, gloomy. un - nappy looking men, dreadfully, out at elUuw, and the shrug of pity or frown of discontent with which Mere Lucas expressed her feeling regarding them was usually accompanied with a significant movement of the thumb or finger, which led inc to understand that their object was toget money out of Tares. There was none wimp looked like a traitor, and I could not believe that any would be base enough to betray him to the police• for, however unhappy they looked on arriving, not one weut away with disappointment in his face, and though 'Paras was careful to conceal his generosity I had reason to know that he gave away to his distressed countrymen infinitely more than he spent upon him- self. All through the night I taxed my brain with conjectures and surmises without arriving at any definite con- clusion. with regard to the identity of this dreaded enemy, and all I could do to silence my' self reproach for past neglect was to vow that 1 would be more watchful and vigilant iu the future. And this vow was not made in vain. CHAPTER XVI. Titz CZAR STRIPES, While we were at breakfast the next morning a well known knock at the door was followed by the usual cheery "Caned • morning, Mme. Lucas, Fine weather, isn't it? Is M. Tams in his studio?" "What can have brought out our friend so early?" exclaimed Tarns as Mere Lucas admitted the visitor. "Wel- come, George Gordon." Gordon's broad forehead was beaded with perspiration. "I was anxious to catch you before you went out, old man," he exclaimed, ee-ipinr his face with a large handker- chief after paying his devoirs to mein some choice scraps of French and laying an uncut illustrated magazine by my cup. "Couldn't get a cab, and—phew I the sun's blazing." "Nothing unpleasant, I hope, to make „ you expose yourself in any way. "Not a bit of it. But you'll never guess what has drawn me out of my den at this hour." "1 won't try. Never saw you nut be - .fore midday before. What is it?" "Business." "Business -you, George Gordon—im- possible!" "It's a fact. I'll tell you all about it when we get up into the studio." "No, tall me to hear good new:". It's never to early "Well, then—pardon me, made- moiselle, I •can't express myself in French—have you found ' any one to burn your group yet awhile?" "No. I have been to Cramps and Fisher and Hudson. No good. They're all frightened by the size. They haven't proper kilns for the work and can't do it." "Then I will" "You!" • "Yes, I've invested capital in a pot- tery." In order to help me out of my diffi- culty." "Not entirely. The fact is, a kind of moral awakening is at the bottom of it. Don't laugh. It's no joke, I can tell you. I never felt so serious, so right down in earnest, in all my life. You know my conscience has been pricking me for some time past— There you go again. Can't a man have a conscience without being a redhot revolutionist like you? I tell you I have felt that my life has been misspent, and instead of lounging about doing nothing, except waste my money, I ought to occupymy- self and invest my capital in some in- dustry that would give employment to the laboring class." Gordon spoke with perfect gravity, but I saw by the twitching of Taras' mustache as he bent over his tea that he found it difficult to listen to this an- nouncement with a serious face. "Now, old Bell—you know Colonel Bell, the fine old fellow who came with me about a month ago to look at your work—his feelings are just like mine only=poor old fellow—he hasn't got the cash. He's perhaps less concerned about the welfare of the laboring class than I am it's you who have worked me up so tremendously in that way but he's quite as eager to invest his capital in a paying concern. But the worst of it is, you know, he's got so deuced little of it that he couldn't very easily do anything off his own bat. And for the sake of his daughter he dare not venture it in a very risky concern. You know he has a daughter?" Taras nodded, with a humorous twinkle in his eye and a kindly smile. "Kavanagh tells me she is most beautiful and charming young lady," he said. **She is, old man," Gordon said, en- thusiastically, coloring up to his temples. You must meet her. I've told her about Mile. Aura, and she is most anxious to make her acquaintance." "Doubtless," Taras' nod seemed to say. "she is awfully nice. However, that has nothing to do with the affair. The thing is that the old gentleman and I have hit it off completely. He quite jumped at the proposal. Of course I take all risks." . Taras nodded, as if this arrangement were the most natural thing in the world between men of business, and asked when the idea had first struck Gordon. "The very day that humbug H-- backed out ofh t e affair .dudy ou ex- pressed an opinion that it would be dif- ficult to find another pottery'where such a work could be fired. By the luckiest chance possible I learned the same day that Perry, round the corner, wanted. to sell his works." "The ginger beer bottle place?" Tares asked 'with a little ruefulness in his face. "Oh, he does drain pipes as well. • But of course we shall baild a new kiln— can't make bricks without straw, you know—and get the best workmen that are to be had. I haven't said a word on this matter to any one for fearthe negotiations might fall through,, but Last night the affair was concluded satisfactorily, and we enter into posses- sion at once. • As soon as you are ready the workmen can set about casting the group, so that it will be dry and be ready for burning by the time the kiln is finished -of course, old -man, 'sup- poti g that you are willing to give us the job.. "Aroper, kiln and good worltmen=I p ask for nothing more than that." "You may depend on having them. Anything is to be had for money, and I shall be only too glad to put mine to such good use. 3 ou know how' thoroughly • I sympathize with your cause. That alone would: command lay fortune, but look what a start this job will give 'us --what an adver- tisewent I Teras stretched out his hand and grasped his fmiend's in a silence•moreex- pressive than any verbal testimony of his faith in Gordon and recognition of the generous motive that underlay his. schemer • W e saw a great deal of Gordon dnr- ing the following week,. On the Sat- urday there was a long consultation in the workshop with two of the cleverest men in the trade with respect to the casting of the group, which had now re- ceived the last touch, and it was agreed that on the Monday following the opera- tion should be begun. Turas told me this when the workmen were gone, and I found him in the workshop. There he stood before his work with folded arms, and after regarding it in silence for a few minutes he said with impressive force; • • this is the finest work I have ever clone in my life, Aura, I am proud of it." •TO Ric CO 'i'rvrrFn.) HEiRS TO ENGLAND'S CROWN. aril} °naethis the : Snecs.ssion Been Re- duced to ea Single Life, Victoria's loog line of descendants make it nertain that the English Drown will not laok for direct heirs at her death. Only once in • English history has it seemed likely that the English crown would fail of a direct heir. When the thirteenth century was about five years old there was actually no direct hair to the English crown. Henry II. witnessed the '•respective and seemingly probable est ' u of the Norman line. He had tour A. His eldest, Henry, died six years 'Afore him without issue. His third son, Geoffrey, died three years before bine, leaving one son, Arthur of Brit- tany, and at his death, in 11841, Richard vies unmarried, and John heti no chil- dren Richard succeeded him, and died without ISMS; John dame to the throne, and though ctiilciless himself, murdered his nephew. He was now absolutely the last of the direct Nor;n in line, In the year of his father's death, 1150, he di-! vetoed his first wife, Hawisia of Glen-! easter, His second wife was Isabella of , Angouleme, but he had no child till 1207, when Henry III, was born. Thus the possibilities of direct heirship to the; throne were, previous to the birth of Henry III., narrowed down to a single life. Curious Coincidences. "Speaking of curious coincidences of our everyday life, two little •things! happened a short time ago that are, perhaps, worthy of repeating," said an' insurance man to another. "My wife' j has long wished for an olive fork. Wel had used a table fork and had then' substituted a pair of candy tongs, but! neither proved to be the right thing.! A few evenings before Christmas my m wife aped me to buy aim olive fork, ` but I wasn't overburdened with money at the time, and so, much against my' will, I was obliged to ask her to wait' a little. As I was about to step into, the office building the next morning I: sew directly in front of me a smalim jeweler's box, and inside it there lay the identical fork my wife wanted ! l t ! sent a note to the jeweler, telling him] ! the owner could have it by calling ati my house. No one ever came, and at, present it is in active service on my'. dining -room table. "Some time before this a young girl,. who had become engaged to a chum of • mine, wanted a small chased gold ling in lieu of a solitaire diamond. In emu quest we entered a shop and in one tel the cases we saw a pretty ring. When we looked at it, we noticed in the in- side some engraved initials, which proved to be those of my chum and his affianced. The salesman said that the ring bad been ordered several months previous, but had never been called for My friend never told the incident to his betrothed until after their marriage. Curious instances of coincidences, were c hey not ?"—New York Tribune. The records of the church tell of the heroes of God, and show that they were ever sustailied in moments of sore dis- tress by some hidden aid. But the benediction is still more evident in the liumble'believers who have to endure a great fight of affliction. There are feeble girls, smitten by consumption, who live upheld by a secret joy of the Lord. There are poor aged saints neglected 'by the world whose lives are bright and sunlit. There are men over whom a great tribulation has rolled who show an unexpected triumphant faith. Like Abraham on the mount,'• David in the cave, Daniel in the lion's den, the three youths in the blazing furnace, Paul and Silas in the dun- geon, or John at Patmos, they have sustenance the world knows not of.' This is ever one beautiful part of the Christian's warfare, that as he does' not know the needs of to -morrow, so he has not to provide the supply foz' those needs; except that while he is among those who are overcoming by the victorious power of faith he hearsi and believes the Master's promise : "I will give to eat of the hidden manna." 1 The Berries of God. • The Best Year in Fonr Lives. A. new year. Let it be the best in your lives. Try and do good to every I one. Pray much for those you love, and those you wish to love, Don't allow an old quarrel to outlive the old year. Make it up. Jesus died for that very person you think you cannot for- give. Go across the ' street and shake hands, and bury old sores with the old, year. Be friends with all, for God loves all. Be sure that He cares for; you in everything. Therefore ask His advice in all that you do. Look for •` His hand in your life, and you, will see that none of us are orphaned from His memory; but we all live in land which the Lord our God "careth' for ; yea, the eyes of the Lord•thy God are always upon it from the beginning tm of the year even unto • the end. of the Devices for Protecting Plants. Gardeners in Europe, especially in Eng- land and France use many devices for protecting and forwarding early plants, which are seldom seen in this country. Among such devices is .the one shown in accompanying illustration. The use of these miniature cold frames wbiob are like toy houses with glass roof and open bottom, makes it practicable to start a few lettuce plants, dowers, or melon hills, etc., in open ground, a week or two be tors their regular season. Our last year's experience with similar home-made de- vices for starting melon hills was highly satisfactory. The seeds were planted in hills, in open ground, and • over each hill' 'was placed a litte frame, top slanting to-•� ward the south, like an ordinary cold , frame. Some small barn windows that we happened to have on hand were made use of ie place of sashes. Thu frames were removed after the plants, which grew thrifty and free ,from insect attacks, be- gan to send out runners.—Popular Gar- dening. Summer dowers. It is time to begin making prepara- tions for the flower garden the coming summer. A lady tells the Rural New Yorker what seeds to get, as follows: Ageratum blooms from midsummer till fall. Sweat alyssum blooms all summer long and till the end of November, and like esohscholtzia, pot -marigolds, portu- lace, larkspur, corn flower and noreopsis, it self -sows itself forever afterward. Of asters I prefer Truffaut's Improved Paeonia Perfection, Victoria, Crown and Reid's Quilled ; of stocks, large -flowered I German 10 -weeks; of marigolds, Meteor as a pot, Eldorado, as African, and Dwarf Double -striped, as French; of bal- sams, almost any respectable firm's Su- perb strain of petunias, Davart-striped as. a single and Hybrids grandifora fltnbri- eta Dore plane as a double; of verbenas, the Mammoth of cockscombs, the Glas- gow; of larkspur, the Rocket and nese; of of to. acco, the new Affinis; of naiguonette, Miles; of Drummond Phlox the grandiflorum strain; of pansies, the T'rilnardeau; of vincas, the white end white with red eye; of 'nasturtiums, Lnbb's varieties; and of zinnias, the Dwarf Compact Scarlet with some Ze- bra for novelty's sake and some Robusta plenissima for size. Nutwithstandng all the display made to -day about French marigolds, balsams, snapdragons, sweet williams, spotted mimuluses and stooks, we had as good flowers of these 25 years ago as we have to -day; and when it f comes to the grand old show pansies, so clean, so pure, so brilliant in their col- ors, so substantial and velvety in their I texture, and so round and large in their form, we have nothing now to equal the pansies of 25 years age Besides these, add candytuft, sweet and common; cosmos to bloom in fall. Diadem pinks that bloom well the first year and often live over for another sea- son's work; annual gaillardias, also G. aristat► and its varieties; godetias so pretty before midsummer, i vatora and malope, especially their white varieties, lupine if you like them, pentstemon Hartwegil, which, although a tender per- ennial, blooms profusely the first year from seed, carnation and paeonia—flow- ered double poppies, salpiglossis, scarlet salvia which although commonly grown Is a greenhouse perennial, I always treat as an annual, large -flowered scabies, sweet sultan and the "New Miniature" sun -flowers. And don't forget some globe amaranths and dwarf heliohrysum for everlastings, and the morning-glories and cypress vine among vines. Horticultural Notes. Even with the utmost care insects will appear, and they increase rapidly in warm, dry rooms U not fought promptly and persistently. Use a reliable insecti- cide and use it thoroughly. The Pacific Farmer says that the time to trim an old orchard is from the falling of the leaves in the fall to the swelling of the buds in the spring, and while you are about it do not be sparing with the pruning knife and saw; also use an old hoe or other blunt instrument and scrape all the old scaly bark from the remain- ing branohes.and body. Put a heavy coat - lug of paint on the end of all branches where the sawed wound is over an inch or two in diameter. There are greater difficulties in mar- keting fruit successfully than in markets lug any other farm product. Even the best, keeping apples will waste enough under ordinary Dare between fall and spring to more than offset their increased prize at the latter season. Most farm cel- lars are too warm to store fruit success- fully, and if ventilated to keep them cool, it makes the living rooms above too cold. A cellar built by itself half above ground and half below is best for storing fruit. This can be ventilated, and in the very coldest weather a stove ran be heated to prevent danger of the fruit freezing. The rooms are not all supplied with sunup windows, and yet in every room one would like to have flowers or foliage, and so cheat winter of its dreariness with a suggestion of summer. And yet a shady window, or one well lighted but with a northern exposure, may hold its charms by carefully selecting its plants. Decem- ber is not, too late to plan this, not even Christmas or New Year's. Callas, cycla- men and hyacinths do well with very lit- tle sun, also all the many narcissi, if given light and food freely. Feed liber- ally, for.•they will absorb and exhaust a vast amount of rich fertilizing matter, liquid or otherwise, also water freely, and they will floweringly respond. Prim- roses may be added here, but must not be kept too wet, or they will ':'damp off"' about as fast as new leases Can start out, For foliage for this window use palms, ferns, the Letts elastics (called rubber, plant), orange and lemon trees, or vines, smilax, German ivy and the hose. The atter may not be In flower until, spring, hen it will liberally repay in waxen clue- ere all the care expended in keeping its eaves free from dust, and feeding it well with liquid fertilizer. year,"—Bishop of Ripon. ( I "You didn't know it was loaded, did you, auntie?" was all that brave little -t Harry Oulok said after he had spit out 1 three teeth and swallowed the bullet ABOUT GARDEN PEAS. Yiok's Extra, Early, of Good Quality and Prolific—The Aniesrlcan Wonder Yet tsae tstand-vy. After numerous trials with various. sorts of the extra -early peas, I have dis- carded the whole lot,' with ono exception, and that. is Vick's Extra Early, and as this needs sticks or supports I do not plant it every year, as the wonder usu- ally gets round by the last clays of June After trying a score or more of varieties, witihn the last dozen years, I have set- tled eatled down upon the following sorts; I will let Viok's Early head the list, because it one of the finest of the extra early sorts—generally the small early peas are of rather poor quality, but F'ink's is very good quality, anti ,quite prulieo, with Ion pace always well filled The American Wonder is yet the stand by, although it has a strongrival in Nott's Excelsior, which is one of the best peas of recent introduction, . The claim that it is earlier than the Wonder does. not prove true with me, but it comes along about the same time; it is a strong grower and fully as prootic as \the one it rivals. In quality it ranks with the best. From a single season's experience I am inclined to name the Heroine as the next medium early pea. It is a strong grower and fairly prolific, but what it lacks in number of pods it surely makes up in size, the pods often being over four inohes long, bearing 10 to 12 peas. This is a green wrinkled pea, grows about 2jf feet high and is of ,a rich marrow -like flavor. Bliss's Abundance comes next in my plans this year, although some might prefer to omit this for the Champion of England, an old and good sort when the vines do not mildew. The three last named varieties of peas may best occupy' the ground exclusively, but with time tiwarf Wonder and Excelsior Ihave found it convenient to alternate the rows with straw berry plants, making the strawberry rows 23 feet apart witi two rows of peas intervening. Uy the middle of July the pea haulm is raked off the ground and the strawberry plants will begin to put out runners. Thus there is no great loss of ground in wait- ing for the tint year's development of the strawberry plants. Ilea dal; Greenhouses. Under the above heading the Cornell station has issued a bulletin. The first subject considered is the heat of foroin$$ houses, it has summarized the results of the formerexperiment as follows: 1. The temperatures of steam pipet average higher than those of hot water pipes, under common conditions. 2, When the risers or flow pipes art overhead the steam spends relatively more of its beat in the returns, as bottom heat, than the water does. 8. The heat from steam distributes it. self over a great length of pipe more readily than that of hot water, and steam, therefore, has a distinct advantage fol heating long runs, 4. Steam is preferable to hot water for long and crooked circuits. 6. Unfavorable conditions can be more favorably overcome with steam than with water. It finds that the addition of crooks and angles operates against lint water more than against steam. Hot water begins it warm first, but will not beat a house to s desirable temperature as soon as steam. Long pipes operate more against water than steam on account of friction. The pipes have to be graded in their flow toward the boiler more nicely than steams pipes. One hundred pounds of hard coal gave more heat when applied to steam than when applied to water, and on the whole in its experience the station flndl steam more efficient and economical. Tho bulletin considers the hothouse growth of lettuce, of winter cress, of win. ter peas and methods of controlling green- house pests. It says that for lettuce the night temperatura should not rise above 46 degrees and that the day temperature should be 66 to 65 degrees. While light is regc.ired, yet they do not suffer if some distance from the glass. Solid earth is preferred to benches. Tit famous head lettuce, of Boston gardeners requires soil to contain much sand and very little clay and silt. It must be loam ' at all times, nor must it puddle when worked, A soil made of two parts drift sand and one of greenhouse soil was used successfully. It advises those interested that no plant is easier grown nudes benches in greenhouses than cress In win. ter. It furthermore, in its presentation of miscellaneous subjects, relates its experi- ence in winter peas. But as from a linen. offal point it does not advise the growth of this crop In the winter, we refer the curious to the bulletin. Culture of Berries. Under the heading of one thousand dol- lars an acre for blackberries, Mr. C. N. Chapman, before the Western New Yell Horticultural Society, says that hie neighbor sold $600 worth of blackberries froam one half acre of ground. Be tells bow he fitted a piece for himself. Rotted manure.was applied to deeply plowed land, trenches eight inches deep and seven feet apartwere made, into which 200 pounds of potash per acre were scat- tered and mixed with the soil. Plant. were set two and one-half feet apart with great care. When the new growth was 16 inches high the first year and two feet the second, the shoots were nipped off, causing the laterals to start. Frequent clippings kept the growth down and caused fruitfulness. The loss from break, age is lessened, and the fruit gathered faster, besides being larger. The weab canes are cut out and only strong, healthy, 'vigorous ones ere allowed. Plante must have a generous supply of fresh air and sunshine in spring to reach great vigor, The yield was double where proper Apruning was practised. rise d. In spring a light dressing of commercial fertilizer is worked in among the canes, and if cane growth is satisruetory only potash and phosphoric acid are used. No weeds should be allowed, and frequent shallow cultivation conserves the moisture. After fruiting, immediately out out all old canes and born Host Excellent. Advice, The art of advertising is making „ long and powerful strides, and the man who fails to keep tip with.it-well, the sherif! "will get' him if he, don't watch 'out." Two things are certain Spasmodic news- paper advertising doesn'texper!- and a • f menting with all kinds and dstyles of newe- paper advertising. fails to, bringgthe best results, s Have an unvar•in,,style of your own, a distinctive, characteristic style. Have an exclusive border or exclusive type, if pos-` sible. Let the people learn where to look for your ads, and have some feature about them that will ninke people read them. Describe your goods in a brief, `breez catchy way. ' y. Then let others wrangle about what con- stitutes good advertising, while you make money; -$rains.