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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-6-11, Page 6LIFTED BY LOVE; Or, fitios the -Wharf Waif Became a Princess. rUBLISMin DS: SVECIAL AnRANtlEnEt‘T. (CONTiNCED) drawinga lone breath, he said: some tune," he remonstrated, still with his face fumed from me. "Why, whom can We tell in Russia? Who will hear our voicee when we are in 'Siberia?" , „ . "Bet the police Must learn in time by his works, that Tams is still free." "Is it likely that they will send you baek to England to prove their fault?" eie knocked out his pipe slowly on the deck before he made any reply. Then, w e were closely watched: by Ruders- dorf and tile old gentleman, who, seeing by the openness of our manner that we were not hatching plots, marked their satisfaction by promising that we should come on deck the following day, if the eyeet 'ter held fair. Th wind freshened in the night, but the sea was not rough enough to prevent my going on deck after breakfasts though. I found it difficult to keep my feet under this novel condition of things. Gordon was waiting for me at the head of the stairs in a fur jacket he had bought from one of the sailors, He had a pipe in his mouth, and his face was radiant with boyish delight. "I'm glad to see you have not been ill," said, he, taking my arm to steady me. "Oh, that's all past." "Seasick, I mean." "I don't know how any one can be sick on the sea," I replied, looking out over the dancing waters. They seemed to me as grand in their strength as they had been beautiful in their calm repose, and the fresh air gave me new life. He glanced at me in perplexity as he steered me across to the corner he had already prepared. We seated ourselves, and Rudersdorf seat us a couple of rugs and a tarpaulin, with which we made ourselves very snug and comfortable. "I'm a bit puzzled, madem.oiselhos* said Gordon, when Rudersdorf and ' secretary had left us. -From one or two remarks you made yesterday, and what you said just now, one would think Yon had never been on the sea before.' "I saw it for the first time yesterday." "Then how in the world did you get across from Russia" he said. in amaze- ment. have never been in Russia. I fancy I was born in Shadwell. Anyway I lived there as long as I can remember and never left till last year." "But—you speak French like a native." "That's because I speak nothing else ' at home, because I could not speak English like you or any one else who has been educated, because Tams wished me to begin a new life, and break awaY from all that had gone before"-- "Look here, mademoiselle." Gordon said. stopping me with apprehension in his tone, "if this sort of thing will upset you, you know"— "No, no. I'm strong now, I must , tell you what I had not the courage to tell you yesterday. I ought to have told you the first thing, because I've ao right to profit by your kindness until I know whether you can forgive me or not," -Oh, I say, don't you know"—Gordon expostulated uneasily. Disregarding his remonstrance, I told. ray story as simply as I could, relating all that had taken place between Kava- nagh and myself truthfully and with a desire to say nothing which might bin his jedgments. His pipe went out as he listened, as- tonishment holding him spellbound. 'We looked, each other straight in the -eyes until I had spoken the last word, Then I dropped my head and. waited in trembling uncertainty for his verdict. He did not leave me long in doubt as to his present feeling, ' "Yon are a brick," he said; "a regular 'brick!" and taking my hand he pressed it warmly. "I—I didn't expect you to think so," said I. "Why, you don't think I could have any grudge against you for making me useful, do you? You have led. me to do no more than I should willingly have acme to save old Taras if I had been asked, and if it were otherwise that would not alter my esteem for you—not a bits It's this devotion that I admire you for. A real, genuine, womanly woman, don't you know, should stick at nothing, but go bang through thick and. thin for a man. Judith, I believe, would do as much for me if it came to the pinch. If not (and know it)—well, she would be my Judith, that's all. Don't give way, little woman," he con- tinued, seeing my lips twitch perhaps, for his generous enthusiasm touched me greatly. "You have done all that you oould do, and it's bound. to turn out right. I have unbounded confidence in Xavanagh." "Have you.?" I asked hopefully, ' shoald think so! Why he's one of 'the subtlest, shrewdest, cleverest men in London. He's not a fool, I can tell you." "No, I didn't think he might be that exactly, but"— "I see. You thought it possible that 'he might be something worse. Well, that's excusable, for when a man owns -up to doing other people you can never feel quite sure that he isn't doing you. You see we can't all tell the truth and hit straight out from the shoulder, Why, take this case, for example. Without lying how could Kavanagh have circum- vented the smartest police in the world —how could he have got over the min- ister of police and those crafty rascals and, upset their villainous game." "Is it certain that he is deceiving m and not us?" I asked. "Wait a bit. This wants a deuced. lot of cool judgment. Let me have a pipe." He lit his pipe and puffed out great streams of smoke before he spoke again. When he had taken three or four pulls, he said: "But is there any fact—has anything occurred—which directly supports your suspicions? That's what I should like to get at." "Kavaniteh led me to believe that, when you were arrested, I should be free to return to Tams. Can you tell me why I was brought on boaed with you?" "You would come, you know:" "But there is evidence enough that had. I net come of my own accord I should have been brought here by force. From the very outset it was known on board here th# I was to be taken away -with you." \ "Hang me if .1 can explain that ar- rangement. Can you?" "Yes; it was necessary to get rid of sae," "Why?" "That I might not tell tales." "But if the whole story is to COMO out?" "It is not to come out," I said, with the emphasis of conviction. `Tie never intended that it ehould. If this affair -were made public, inquiry would. lead. to the discovery of his share in it, a discovery, that would ..be fatal to him.' "But the truth must come net ee "Well,' we stall see if- you ere right, mademoiselle,- when we get to Russia."' "Too late," said I, with deep contri- tion in toy heart. ought to have found that out before.. . "Oh, my dear girl!" he cried, threing again quickly to • me with the -geuial warmth that characterized him, "What- ever tures up you must always be held blameless. You're not the only one deceived. Here am I to justify you, led like a lamb by the man I profeesed to know, so no more self reproaches." Then, eiving niV hand a hearty shake, he added, "Are we not companions- in ad- versity?" CHAPTER XXXIIL WE SET OET. • We were allowed to see each other no more mail we reached St. Petersburg, and then only at it distance, as are were hurried front the train which brought us front the portinto the separate car- riages in which We were rattled off to prison. In that moment Gordon waved his hand to Me and smiled encouragingly, but I knew that the peer fellow, despite his sanguine temperament, could' find but little ground to Wee hope upon. About an hour after My arrival I was taken down to an offioei where the minister of police sat at the head of a writing table. The only other persons present were Rudersdorf and the old gentleman. Their Manner was obsequi- ously deferential . toward their chief, sharp and severe toward me. With a slight inclination Of the head he told me to take a- chair, and fixing his dark, penetrative eyes upon me said: -Mademoiselle, do you deny that Tae ras, Prince Borgenekee is your friend?" "No." I replied proudly; "he is the dearest friend I have in the world." These words brought tears into my eyes, so that I saw everything as in a mist, but I brushed them away impetu- ously and met the minister's eyes. firm- ly, and with the resolve to keep my emo- tion down.' "Then how cdmes it" the minister asked, -that you have aided in bringing him here?" -I have (bile no such thing. The man you have here is not Tams, but George iliordon. If you are the minister Of the police, you will know that when you tee him." "Assuming that this is George Gor- don, why did you aid in bringing, him here?" "To save Tama from being murdered by your agent, Rudersdorf." "Is this the first time you have endea- vored to save your friend?" "No; I have balked Kavanagh in two if notm. , three attempts to carry hint away.' "And you hoped to save Tares a fouth time by substituting George Gor- don, to mislead our agents?" "Yes." "You thought to throw off the pursuit by making Us believe that we had cap- tured Tanis?" "Yes." "Then why are you so anxious now to make us believe that we have not got ^ mare going With me?" we said, at last and simultaneously. ' eyes," sail"though where we are going I can't say," "Oritutek, I believe." "Oriel -ask, hey? Well, that's got a sort of outlandish sound about it. But what does that matter? We ,shall come here again before very long, that% a certainty. I let the minister have it pretty straight, I Can tell you. Threat- I mei!, him with the Imes and all sorts of punishment." A sledge was brought into the 'ai'd, for the ground was already covered. with snow. It was drawn, by three horses, each with a bell in the are over the saddle. Inside there was a lot of baggage and letter bags, for this. I believe eve:, tee mail sledge. The driver arranged it so es to form a comfortable seat under the hood and gave us a couple of pillows, he himself sitting in front. When we were ready to start, a couple of mounted Cossacks came out. "This is our bodyguerd," said. Gordon. "Didn't I promise you that should be treated like princes? :ince! Wait till I've lit my pipe, ' .f us, I know, will be as happy as a • .The Cossacks, peering at us, Were the queerest expression imaginable. Never before, perhaps had, they seen an exile starting out for Orkutsk with such a jovial, happy-go-lucky air as Gordon's. "Five o'clock," said Gordon, looking at his. watch as we passed under the lamp over the gates of the fortress. "They haven't taken a thing from me, tin/ugh of course I was searched for incriminating papers—not a thing. That's a convincing proof that our de- tention was merely formal and that we are bound by nothing stronger than red tape—in fact, I don't feel like a prisoner. Do you, Sister Aura?" It was indeed hard to realize that we were still in the iron grasp of the polies when the Cossacks, falling to the rear, were out of sight. My despondent mis- givings gave place to the hopeful ideas imparted by my friend, and my spirits rose under the exhilarating influences of the journey. The air, though intensely eold, was bright and clear; the stars shone sharp and bright in the sky; the snow was hard and the horses sped along swiftly to the musical clash of the bells over their backs. We dad not stop until we reached the posthouse, where the horses were Changed. There we had a very good lunch, and after the indispensable cup . of tea we started afresh, quite pleased to go on. 'This is something like a journey d'agremongi" said Gordon as be lit an- other pipe and nestled up in his corner. "Yes, if there's nothing worse than this!" said 1, but not at all in a tone of misgiving. CHAPTER XXXIV. WE MARE OUR ESCA.PE. It was getting dark when we overtook a train of miserable convicts marching with clanking chains along the road. About an hour later we reached the etape, where we were to stay for the night. I had heard much of the horrors of these stations and. the loathsome "keen - eras," or sleepingplaces, in which the convicts were herded, and I had seen them. in the collections of paintings ex- hibited by Tams, I was therefere as- tonished to find the log hut in which passed the night so decent and habitable. It was not overcrowded. There was a rough carpet on the floor, and the only real hardship was the absence of bed and bedding, for we had to sleep on a 'iaras'c' sloping board and in our clothes, -Because Kavanagh made me believe I was much better off than my cora- that the moment you discovered the 1 panion, who was thrust into a den built mistake Rudersdorf would be banished to accommodate 250 persons, and with in disgrace, while a public outcry would no less than 710 criminals of all, sorts, compel you to abandon any flue', of- t and the horrors of that night were more, fort to remove Tams from Eng; n ," I believe, than he could make light of, "You are candid, at any raiL, 'said -for he was extremely reticent upon the the minister, after exchanging a swift subject. All that he told me was that glance with Rudersdorf, he had found no room to lie down and "I want to know the whole truth." had breathed a little atmosphere of his "In that case, will you be good own by smoking all night. enough to give me the particulars of the , “However," he said cheerfully, "that's attempts made by Mr. Kavanagh to kid- 1 all past, and I shall make up for a sleep - nap Tares? less night by a good long snooze this I narrated the events as simply as I afternoon—if we don't come to the and. could. When I came to an. end, the of our journey before." minister wrote a few lines, handed the We went on by another mail sledge, paper to Rudersdorf, and rising took up but with the same guard who had left St. Petersburg with us. These two Cossacks never left us throughout our long journey, which continued without any break, save the nightly halt at a convict station, for three weeks after we had passed through Moscow. Soon after leaving that city behind us I noticed a change in poor Gordon. His spirits seemed to be los- ing their elasticity, his gayety to be a little forced, his pipe more necessary. But despite the bitter reflections that must have arisen to his mind his atti- tude toward me displayed no sign of animosity. There was no lapse in his gentleness and tender consideration for my comfort. His kindness was unvary- ing. Our common misfortune, which I thought would embitter our hearts, served only as a link of sympathy to hold us together. Gordon still spoke hopefully, though at rare and rarer intervals, of our being recalled to St. Petersburg, but for my part Iliad quite abandoned the hope of any revocation of our fate when an accident occurred which gave a new turn to our fortunes. One night I was awakened by a strange outcry of distant voices. As I turned upon the wooden platform that served as my sleeping place, the woman next to me, who had already sprung up, cried: "Holy God, we are on fire!" At that cry all of us slipped to the ground in a moment, with mingled ex. carnations of dismay. The kamera was full of smoke—it choked us as we breathed—and through the one mall casement a dull red glow fell upon us. When we perceived that it was not our kamera, but another. which was in flames, we concluded that it must be the one in which the men were confined, and shrieking the names of our friends we rushed at the door, vainly trying to break it open. 'The muffled clamor of voices told us he that tmen were still, shut up. Sud- denly there was a great outburst of voices as they forced their door, and the next instant they were crying to us from the outside of our hut and beating fuel.- ously at the door which separated us. We stood back as the heavy panels' creaked under the pressure of sturclY shoulders, and presently a mighty thrust' burst the lock away, and. the door flaW back. ; In the midst of the wild confusion that follewed I felt my arm grasped and found Gordon be. my side "Come along, little woman. Don't! give way ; there's a brick—it's all right. Half fainting with fright and the) suffocating effect of the dense smoke, blowing down upon us, I staggered along by his side, past a crowd of panic stricken, "What are you going to do with me?" I asked. "During the inquiries which must necessarily be made to ascertain the truth of your statement you will be de- tained. Y011 will be provided with every available comfort, and in consid- eration of the straightforward manner in which you have elven information, if there is any reasonable- concession I can make"— "George Gordon—I want td see him," said I, for I felt in need of a, companion. The chief looked grave; then, after giving some instruction to Rudersdorf, he said to me: "You shall see him to -morrow morn- ing" and with a slight bow left the of- fice. I was taken back to the cell, and as the door Closed with a clang, and I look- ed round the four bare whitewashed walls, with their one barred window. high up, showing but a few inches of leaden sky, I asked. myself where was the comfort that had been promised me. In the evening the warder brought me a bundle of thick serge clothes and a greasy sheepskin coat, telling me that I should have to wear them for ray jour- ney and. that I must get up when I was called. This was the first intimation I had received that we were to be removed from St. Petersburg. The minister had spoken only of a detention. He had said that I should. see Gordon the next morning, but was it only to say "good - by?" Before it was light the warder entered my cell, and seeing a candle on the shelf which served. as a table told me that I must be dressed in ten minutes, In ten minutes I was dressed in my ill fitting clothes, looking more like a white bear than a human creature in the great sheepskin coat which touched the grimed at my feet and was furnished with a hood and collar band, which left nothing visible of my fade except my nose and eyes. A pair of enormous boots lined with sheepskin and great fingerless gloves of the same kind added still more to the uncouthness of my appearaece. The warder broughtcane a umg of not tea and some dried fish and bread, and while I ate my breakfast made up the clothes I had worn into a bundle for mu to take with me. I was taken down into the yard. where, to my. great joy,.1 found Gordon ar- rayed in a suit sum] 'in to my own, by which I concluded that he was to go away also. I think he was no less pleased to see me. He gave me both hands, and we stood there hand in hand too grateful to speak at first. wrofehes surging about • the gate, of the eraed in expectation of its being opened for them to escape, and then tigongh shower of sparks and least a marine and crackling Ames of fis into an open! space, where it was possible to breethe freely and get a comprehensive view Of what was going on. c isle CONTI ,,,TU4D.) NATTY. CRAVANETTE. airing 1VIilitary Cape With nage Collar and Senor ntect. A chic oravenette in dull black, a very light weight, is made up in a smoothly fitting body, sleeveless, and fastened down the front by small cloth -covered buttons. It has a flaring military cape, hanging godet folds from a lame cel- lar in sailor efteet, sharpie 'pointed at the back and on the shoulders. Huge oloth-covered button:4 adorn this collar- otte and hold the straps on the front in place. There is a wide collar to turn up :Moat the ears if it is a bit'eililly. The cape is A KATY ellAVENLT LE. lined with a thin quality of black taffeta, and. the entire rig has an air of finish and style quite uncommon to such garments. This same design is made up in a va- riety of celors, the pale shades of gray and tan being especially in favor. A lin- ing of brilliant plaid silk for the cape is effeetive. Another novel style of rain gar- ment has a yoke, from which falls a full body to the feet. A jaunty hood decor- ates the back, and is often lined with a bright color. erodes for efatroni. Very, very seldom is the middle-aged woman remembered by the fashion writ - ere, who seem to think that the modes are only for the younger class of women. Unless an elderly lady has refined tastes of her own upon which she can rely she Ands it a difficult matter to know just what is correct to, wear. It goes without saying that black is always good form for the wearing of a woman after she has passed 50 years. And in black, perhaps, more than in any other material shown, there are an infinite number of varieties. It is said that black draws the sun'srays; that is, black wool, and, no doubt, it does, but woolen goods need not be worn during the hot weather. The wearing of odd bodices is quite as an fait for the middle-aged lady as for rthe younger woman, The shops show a , variety of separate bodices for elderly ladies, in taffetas, but many of them are so unsuitable as to be entirely out of the question. Nothing can be cooler or more stylish than a blouse bodice of black In- dia silk, made up with a finely tucked yoke, or one laid in close shirrs, the full- ness drawn closely into the belt, at the back and under the arms, and allowed to blouse slightly at the front. A shirt set of stiffened ripples will add greatly to the finish. The sleeves may be in the bishop mode or leg -o' -mutton, very full and entirely without lining other than the cap of fiber chamois at the top to keep them out well. There need be no lining in the yoke beside the facing of silk to stay it, so it will be actually much cooler than an ordinary waist. The belt may be black ribbon, fastened with a small bow, and the collar may he covered with a band of the same, with a bow at each side of the neck. Or a more dressy blouse ,may be made up of the handsome Per- sian silk in shades of gray, with trimm- ings of Honiton lace and jeweled but- tons, Washes for the Hands. Hands that are coarsened by exposure and houievvork can be made soft and white by a little attention, as follows: , Take about one pint of fine white sand, and put it in a wash hand basin, which fill three parts up with hot soft soapy water. Buttermilk and sulphur soaps are pure and nice for the skin, as well as deliciously perfumed and refresh- ing. , Wash the hands in this soapy water, rubbing them thoroughly with the sand; then rinse them in tepid oatmeal water, and afterwards thoroughly dry them, pushing baok the quiets and pressing ,the tips so as to keep them narrow and ,the nails nicely rounded. At night the ,washing in oatmeal water can be repeat- ed, and after drying them, rub in a lit- tle emollient to soften the stipend keep up the natural oil so essential for obtain- ing that softness and delicacy which women can least afford to lose, for a soft, white hand is a grand thing. Sleeping in gloves after rubbing in the emollient tends to whiten the hands, but it is as well to cut the tips off, so as to leave the nails exposed, otherwise the warmth renders them soft and brittle. Biting Thread. Ladies who do much sewing frequently suffer a great deal from soreness of the mouth, and are at a loss to asertain the cause of the trouble. Half the time it is simply the result of biting off thread in- stead of using a pair of scissors for cut- ting. In the case of silk thread the dan- ger is quite marked, because it is usual to soak the thread in acetate of lead, partly to harden it and also, perhaps, to increase its weigt somewhat. If this practice is followed regularly, ana very much silk thread IS used, the result may be serious, and even lea'l to blood pois- oning. 'LeoXlii does not grant audiences in het weather, RGRICULTLIPL GREEN FORAGE CROPS. CONVENIEKT HAY -RACK. Vted for Years With Entire success by Its Designer. • I have often wanted to haul hay, and being a lone -handed farmer and not de- siring to take the bed. off my wagon and put on regular frames, I invented the hay-raolt here illustrated, and have used It for years with success and satisfaction to myself and others; and for hauling shingleI never saw anything equal it. It is made by using 6 pieces, 2x4 inches, 5 feet long, with 34 -inch bolt 20 Inches from lower end. (Fig. 1). Fig. 2 shows the frame in position on the end of the bed; raised marks show ends of parallel strips lx4 or 1x6 inches. Fig. 3 shows one side of the frame when taken apart. For the ends I use a strip of plank or stub 5 feet long, laid on end -gate and floor of bed, projecting in rear end back and in front of inside cleats on the bed before putting the long parallel strips on, and keep end -gate rods tight, On the center cross I put a 1 -foot cleat tight -against the outside of bed and on the underside of cross. This keeps the con - ter of the bed from spreading; but all good wagon -beds have two outside braces, and ought not to spread, anyhow. However, this simple preventive makes it doubly secure. Last, but not least, by any means, this frame folds up just like a pair of scissors, and can be hung up in a shed or against a building, and takes no space to house it. If farmers would only learn to take care of their utensils, there would. be less mortgaging done than there Is at present. I never lift my 'wagon -bed off and throw it on the grbund to lie for weeks in the rain and snow, and I never saw men work harder than I have seen them do while lifting the bed off and on . the wagon, and split the tongue and groove in the bed fioor.—E. J. Newkirk, in Farm and Fireside. WHISKY FROM POTATOES. Overproduction Llkely to Give Corn an Energetic Rival. The enormous overproduction of pota- toes last summer will probably result in the establishment of potato distilleries in 'Wisconsin, Minnesota and Michigan, where the tuber can be bought for five cents a bushel or less. Potato whisky is made and, consumed on a largo scale in Germany and Austria, and every trav- eler in Ireland is offered a sample of "poteen." Few, except the natives, ever have the courage to do more than look at It. However, small quantities of "poteen" are imported into the United States, and stuff bearing that name, and probably equally as effective as the genuine, can be had in every city. The American distillers have not ex- perimented much with potatoes. They say the potato flavor is not relished by men used to the Kentucky, Maryland, Pennsylvania or Tennessee article. A $50,000 plant is being erected at Manawa, Wis., according to press dis- patches, to use up part of the surplus orop of 1895. The venture is being 'watched by other distillers, and if it proves successful corn will have a for- midable rival. It is estimated 997,000,- 000 bushels of potatoes were sold or housed last year, compared with 170,000,- 000 bushels in 1894. Many states not specialty adapted to potato raising went into the market, and as a result potatoes are now selling here to peddlers at 12 or 14 cents a bushel, and choice steck is go- ing in small lots at 95 cents. It is be - fleeted the planting in 1896 will be less than in 1805, but not in the great potato states—New York, Pennsylvania, Wis- consin, Minnesota, Michigan, Illinois and Colorado. If distillers can use potatoes they can always find stock at low prices, as the starch manufacturers do. The Slums in South Africa, But South Africa as the scene of the worst predicaments of the British Min- ister in Mr. Chamberlain's place would have no more show as the result of four months of an active African policy than Mr. Chamberlain can produce to -day. One thing we may, however, be certain of; and that is, no Minister, no matter how imbecile, could have less to show than the trophies which have fallen to the share of Mr. Chamberlain. President Kruger has had the best of Mr. Jameson; he has "bested" the TJitlanders; he has "bested" Mr. Cecil Rhodes; and now he has "bested" Mr,. Chamberlain. The net result of four months' attempt to shake the position of the shrewd old gentleman who is said to tryannize over the Trans- vaal has been to establish British im- potence, to convince even Mr. Chamber- lain himself that he can do nothing, and to reduce a somewhat high -flying Colon- ial Secretary ta a condition of collapse.— From "The Progress of the World," in June Review of Reviews. Best Mode of Tethering. This is the time of year when it is quite common to tether animals out to grass. A decided improvement upon the usual method of- doing this is to attach to the halter a strap three or four feet long with a ring in the end. This ring is slipped over a wire, which is stretched across the grass plot and fastened down near the ground at both ends. A No. 9 wire is sufficient, and it should of course, be stretched taut and well stobbed at each end. By this arrangement the, ani- mal can browse full length of the wire, without the danger always attending the use of the long rope—that of winding and tangling around his feet.—G. W. Waters, in Journal of Agriculture. To Heal Cuts. Accidental cuts are more likely to oc- our on the face and limbs than on the body. All that is requisite in general is to bring the parts together as accurately as possible, and to bind them up; this is usually done by adhesive plaster when the mit ceases to bleed. When the cut bleeds but little it is well to ,soak the part in warm water for a few minutes, or keep a wet cloth on it. This removes inflammation and pain, and also a ten- denay to fainting which a cut gives seine persons. If the bleeding be too copious, dab the, part with a rag wetted with cre- osote. PlantingThtehn;z1sarilt4,Goof Good Way or Clearing There are arops that can be grown to take the place of pasture grass and at the same time serve to clear the ground of weeds. It is not to be expected, how- ever, where the land is compelled to produce two or more crops, that it can do so unaided, for that would be impossi- ble, unless the soil was very rich; yet there is a way of growing a large amount of green food and feeding it at the barn while the pasture is being renewed. It is important to keep stook off the pasture land, when the grass begins to fail, yet the cows must be provided for, and with green food, as they will not thrive during the summer if compelled to 'subsist on hay, fodder and grain entirely. Green and succulent foods are essential to the thrift of the animals, promoting digestion, preventing bowel diseases and increasing the flow of milk as well as protecting against the heat of summer. For cows the broadcasting of oats and peas, to be moved as wanted, and. fed to the cows in the barnyard, will provide an excellent substitute for pasture grass, such food' being assisted by hay and grain. It will permit of resting the pasture land. Later in the season Hungarian grass may be sown on the same land. As it is a quick -growing crop, providing a cutting every fern or five weeks and of a sufficient growth for hay, it will more readily pro- vide green food that is wanted. daily and. it will continue to produce green food -until it goes to seed or is overtaken by' frost. This mode of feeding is styled. "soiling" and applies to the practice of growing green food and metering it to the stock instead of turning the stock on the green food. It also gives a larger amount of food, as a new crop comes up on the space just out, thus keeping up a continued supply, while the manure saved in the barnyard is an additional item. Labor, however, must not be over.. looked, as more attention to stock will be neeessary, but the land will provide for ptwasitcueraes. many cattle as the same area in Where crops are cut frequently the weeds are also mowed down at the same time, being thus destroyed, and, aside from this, any thickly grown crop that makes rapid growth crowds the weeds out. If a piece of land. can, be cleared of weeds in this manner it will pay for the labor of soiling the stook.—Phila- delphia Record. RESTORING PASTURES. Harrowing in Clover Seed is Given as an Excellent Flan, The maintenance of pasture lands has become one of the important problems in connection with farm management. Our system of close grazing, followed by per- iods of prolonged drought, inevitably leads to weakened vitality of grass plants, resulting in deficient stand and reduced productiveness. One of the best plans of renovation, says the Massachu- setts Plowman, is to harrow in some clover seed. From experiments at the Iowa station it appeared that clover seed disced into blue grass pasture at the into of ten quarts per acre increased the yield 65 per cent., the equivalent of 1,500 pounds of cured hay per acre. Good, fine4 bernyard manure applied to blue grass pasture at the rate of 20 tons per acre in- creased the yield. 74 per cent., equivalent to 1,700 pounds of cured hay per acre. The addition of 30 pounds of grass seed per acre, together with the discing and harrowing, increased the yield of grass 32.6 per cent, or the equivalent of 800 pounds of hay per acre. A top -dressing of liquid manure, 500 gallons to the acre, without grass or clover seed, increased the yield only 26.5 per cent. The pasture used for the test was stated to be rather poor, shallow, grav- elly soil, with a fairly good natural stand of grass. The results show that clover seed gave twice as much as that produced by liquid manure. In the practice of treating pastures with clover seed and the disc, the work can be very much reduced by applying the seed early while the ground is soft in order that a -part of it may be covered by the tramping of stook, and the dining and harrowing should also be done at a time when the surface will be most read- ily loosened. With many pastures the rocks prevent the use of the disc ma- chine, and in such cases considerable can be accomplished with the old. style tooth -harrow. But a disc harrow should be used in the clear places. Cheese Cement. Take some good fresh cheese ane pound it, wash it with warm water until all the soluble matter is removed; strain it thoroughly, and it will then crumble like stale bread. Dry it upon blotting paper, and it will keep good for a long time. When required for use a little pre- pared cheese must be pounded with a lit- tle quioklime, 'which changes it into a sticky mass. It may then be brought to a proper consistence by means of warm water. When ready it must be applied at once, as it soon dries, and cannot be melted again. This is a strong and valuable ce- ment for china, earthenware, glass, wood, etc. The quicklime and prepared cheese can be kept together in a well - stoppered vessel, if made quite dry, and in fine powder, or they may be kept in separate vessels for amalgamation. Bees and Rorticulture. The growing of fruit fits in more hap- pily with the production of honey than does any other occupation. In this part of the country bees require constant at- tention during May 'and. June, but the remainder of the year, very little work each menth is necessary. When bees need the most attention the orchard needs least. The next question is: Are bees of any benefit to growing fruit? They cer- tainly are in that they aid in fertiliza- tion, and while bees are working on the• blossoms other insects do not have an opportunity to injure them. By a proper selection of varieties, the fruit growing beekeeper can gather fruit and harvest honey until the beginning of winter, at which time he hawleisure to plow up his orchard and paint his hives. When to Use Soft Food. One meal of soft food is sufficient, and it should be given early in the morning, warm. No meals are necessary a t noon, as it is better to allow the hens to be hungry so as to compel them to scratch than to keep their crops full, in which ease they become very fat At night scat- ter the grains so that the hens will have a job searching for them. Should any be loft over they will be found by the hens the next morning. Soft food may consist of anything that can be fed in that con- dition. It is the meal to which all the extra foods are added. It should never be very soft, but of a consistency to al- low it to be crumbled.—Prairie Farmers