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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-8-27, Page 6-74 • LIFTED BY LOVE away unix arternoon and won't be back till Monday." ''Cau yon tell me where I might find him?" "You'll ' have to go to Betterford— that's beyond Woking—to find him." "Woking that's a long way. Are you sure he is there?" r "Certain 'cause I had to post the let- ters to him there as they came in by the last post," Or, Row the Wharf Wail Became a Princess. PRIMMER EY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. (CONTIN Ulm) "Turas—J udithe Why; this is a surprise for me, and I suppose niy com- ing is for you? I •thought .1 plight steal a few hours to satisfy my anxiety:" It was Kavanagh. His voice had dropped: from a tone of cheerful aston- ishment to uneasy perplexity, and he added: "Has anything happened?" "Come on," muttered Gordon, catch- ing my hand in his, "we'll show the vil- lain what has happened. And he shook that fine new stick of his. I heard Taros speaking in a terrible tone as we hurried out, but I Could not catch his words. Then we came up and stood before Kavanagh, near enough for him to distinguish our faces in the pale starlight. "I understand now," he said, with Aimed composure. "You have come back." "Yes, come Nick to call you to ac• count," thuudeid Gordon. "What have you to say for y-ourse, you con- founded villain?" "Nothing„ if you take that tone," Ka- vanagh replied. tapping the palm of his left hand lightly with the cane he held in his right, ••When you can listen to reason, I shall be able to justify every act that may seem inscrutable to you now." "You'll have plenty of scope for your ingenuity iu that way when you are in the dock; the lawyers will fight you there; here you have to settle matters with me." There was no mistaking what he meant as he threw off his Inverness. "Take this warning," said Kavanagh, closing his left hand tightlyion his cane and stepping back a pace. "If you at- tempt to offer violence, the result may be fatal—to you. I am not unprepared to protect myself." As he spoke he gave the head of his cane a twist, whipped out the rapier to which it was a handle, and throwing aside the stick placed himself in an atti- tude of defence. With a cry of terror Judith attempted to throw herself between Gordon and Kavanagh, but Tara,., who had caught the sound of steel, forcibly restrained her, For my own part, I could neither move nor utter a sound. The long, thin sword was scarcely visible in the dim light. I heard that Kavanagh was an expert swordsman. It was impossi- ble fur Gordon to face hien with a stick, and it was impossible that he should close with his adversary without expos- ing himself te the thrust of that almost unseen weapon. CHAPTER L. THE END OF KAVANAGH. Without a moment's hesitation Gor- don threw himself upon his antagonist, striking at his sword arse. The blow fell and was followed by a howl of pain from Kavanagh. I thought Gordon had escaped injury by some happy accident, but the next moment, as he stepped back, I saw the rapier hanging down from his side under the left arm. Shift- ing his stick for au instant, he drew the bent weapon out and flung it aside. In that brief space Kavanagh turned and took to his heels, but Gordon pursued and overtook him before he had gone a dozen yards, and a struggle ensued, Ka- vanagh grappling close to give Gordon's stick less play. But he was no match for Gordon at wrestling, and presently he went over Gordon's shoulder, falling in the road with a thud. He would have been content to lie there, but Gor- •pon dragged hini on to his feet, and run- ning him along at arm's length, thrash- ed him without mercy until the misera- ble wretch threw himself down in the road again and shammed unconscious- ness. Gordon declared he was unhurt, spoke scornfully of Kavanagh's rapier and w ordered how an old hand could rely on a twopenny-halfpenny sword stick for defense. But when we returned to the house he helped himself to a liberal dose of whisky and said he thought he would "just go up stairs and pat him- self straight obit," He was in his room some time and came down in another suit of clothes. "I've helped myself to a suit of yours," I heard him say to Taros. That beastly spit pricked me under the arm and made my togs in a bit of a mess. I couldn't make out how it was I felt wet a.l down that side." "We can't afford to let you trifle with yourself," said Taros. If the wound is serious" -- "Wound? Hang it—its only a scratch, man ! I've stuch a lump of wadding out of your dress coat on the place—the muscle under the arm, don't you know —and I shall be as right as rain after supper." About the same time the gardener, who had been sent to look after Kavan- agh, returned andinformed us that the "gent" was getting on pretty nicely— seemed a little upsetlike—kind of knock- ed up, in a manner of speaking, but he had found his hat and could manage to limp along pretty lively, if we under- stood what he meant. What happened to Kavanagh after this was witnessed by William Wright, one of the kiln hands at the pottery at Lambeth. At five o'clock on that Friday the of- fice was closed as usual. Old Mr. Bell was the last to leave. Before going he went through the works and stopped to .chat with William Wright, who was coaling up the brown ware kiln; talked about the quantity of fuel used and ask- ed Wright whether he didn't think a, cheaper coal would answer the same purpose as that they were burning, aid so on, Always on the lookout for means of economizing, Mr. Bell. Never- theless he gave Wright twopence for a pint of ale when he bade him "Good night" in his friendly way. Wonder- fully nice old gentleman. At 6 o'clock the bell rang. and all hands went away from the pottery except Wright, ,whose turn it was to keep the fires up till Ste- vens came at 2 to relieve him. About 7, Wright having coaled up, went to the side door in Ferry street to get a breath of fresh air. While he was standing there smoking half a pipe an odd looking little e fellow came up tohim and passed the time of, day. He had a neer, monke i shsore of face, wi th a short, bristly red beard, and he wore a fur cap. "Is Mr. Kavanagh in the works?" he asked. "Not'' answered Wright "He went "Zhu is very awkward. I'm apotter, and I counted on getting a bit of work." "You're a Russian, ain't you?" "Yes. How do you know?" "Because you talk like the parties who come to ask after Mr. Taros." ° I "You work late here?" said the little man after a pause. "We knock off at 6, I'm here to fire up. Friday's salting day with us " • He had to explain the process of salt glazing before the foreigner understood this.'._ "We don't glaze like that in our coup - try. I expect your kilns are quite un- like ours, Have you any objection to uiy looking at thein?" • • "Well," said Wright, after a little ; hesitation, it's against the rules to let strangers in. but as your going to be a :. hand in the work§ I don't mind." Wright took hini round the kiln and showed him the fire holes; the foreigner looking about, taking notice of every- thing with his round. deep sunk eves: then he led him up to the throwing floor, where the foreigner was interested in the potter's wheels and the boards of clay jars set round the body of the kiln , to dry: thence Wright took him up the steps on to the salting floor, which is level with the dome of the kilns. The huge kiln here begins to taper into a fun • - nel passing up through the roof. In one side is an opening about the height of a man and 3 or 4 feet wide, and through this one sees, on a level with the floor, the dome covering thatpart of • the kiln in which the pottery is exposed to the flames. In the .middle of the dome is an opening through which the flame rises in a compact body. William Wright took his visitor to the opening in the side of the kiln and pointed out the holes through which the salt is pour- ed to glaze the earthenware, but not content with this the little foreigner went inside, right on the dome of the kiln, and looked down into the inside. Wright says he looked like a demon in a paatoniime as he stood. ahnost within singeing distance of the flame, grinning down into the fiery pit below. "Here, come on, mate, you've seen enough," said Wright, who by this time began to suspect that he had not done well to infringe the rules. At this remark the foreigner followed Wright to the ground floor, and there again the spirit of inquiry was strong upon him. He would go round to look at the fire holes again, and Wright fol- lowing, with sulky slowness, no doubt, lost sight of him on the other side of the; coals. Couldn't inake out where he'd got to, looked for him high and low, lit. a lantern and went right out into the yard behind Mr. Tarns' house. Wasn't anywhere. Finally he concluded that being a foreigner (and consequently mean) the little man had sneaked out into Ferry street and gone orf in that unceremonious fashion in order to avoid standing a drop of beer for the trouble Wright had taken to explain things nicely to him. Nothing occurred until just about midnight, when Wright had another suprise as he was breathing the cool air of Ferry street. Mr. Kavanagh cause down Ferry street from the front office. He was limping; his coat was torn, his hat broken. his hand thrust into the breast of his frock coat. Never saw him look anything likeit before, Wil- liam Wright hadn't—wouldn't have known hini if he hadn't spoken. "What the deuce is the *matter with the front door?" he asked angrily. "I can't open it with my key." "I expect Mr. Bell double locked it. inside. He did come out through the works, and he's so wonderful parti- cular." "Cursed old idiot!" growled Kavan agh, passing him. "Bring a light. I must go down through the ware- house." Wright lit a lantern and lighted the way through the throwing room, the warehouse and the passage leading to the shop and office. There Kavanagh tried to open the front door with the key, but found that something fouled the wards of the lock and prevented the key turning. He swore again at Mr. Bell for a muddling, meddling old fool, and giving up the attempt said to Wright: "You can go. Leave the lantern there. I will come back by the ware- house." Wright went back and fired up his kiln, wondering how the governor, al- ways so spick and span, had fallen into that battered condition, and what on earth he had come to the office for at that hour. Whatever did he want there? He had just banked up the last fire hole when he thought he heard a voice calling faintly in the distance, "'Wright 1 Wright!" He stood quite still to listen, and heard beyond doubt the cry repeat- ed—"Wright! Wright!"—in a shriek of supplication and terror, and it was the governor's voice. He answered and ran up stairs. As he was crossing the throwing room Kavanagh rushed out of the darkness from the warehouse and came to his side panting for breath. He had a stone jar in his hand which he had caught up for defense, and he looked back into the darkness -and round him with wild ter- ror, his face white as a sheet of paper. "Do you see him?" he gasped. "Who, sir?" asked Wright. "A man with a red beard and a bald head." "No, sir." "Lay hold of that jar. If you see him, brain him.,He's a madman." Wright amed himself with a jar from an instinct of self defense, but not being a strong roan he determined to bolt if he. found himself in danger and got the chance. "You must ' have passed him in the warehouse," whispered Kavanagh. hoarsely. "I heard a bottle knocked over soon after you went. I:thought it was you prying about. When I went up and turned round, I found him just behind sue. He knocked- the lantern out of my hand. I don't know where he went He was behind me :one mo- ment—in front of me the next. What's that?", he exclaimed, sudclen)y dropping the jar and catching Wright's arse. Then, gaping with' fear, he shrank back, nodding and glaring at the hop- per through which Wright had come u. P Wright looked that way, too, but saw nothing. He thought the governor must be "gone off," or seized with -"the jumps," or something. It. made ]rim. feel shaky and queer to see a man usuauy so self composed so completely unnerved and panic stricken. "Go down andlook if he's there," whispered Kavanagh, laying his hand on the rail of the -tipper stairs, ready to fly at a moment's warning. "You shall . have ,£10 if you stun him with that jar. If he's not there run to the door and scream for help. 1 left a cab rouud the corner -the mon will hear you—but come back here quick." Reluctantly and with care Wright proceeded to obey these orders.. He descended three stairs, and then, crouch- ing down, look'dd round the stocking floor. lit only in patches by the light from the fire holes. Right in . the far - tiler corner there were two twinkling points of light; probably it was nothing but a piece of coal reflecting a flichering ray from the kiln, but it looked like a pair of fiendish eyes, and that was enough for Wright. He ran back to the governor. . "He's down there," said he, only less apprehensive than the shaking, wretch he spoke to. "Where?" "At the back of the kil', 'twixt the steps and the door." Without a word Kavanah crept swiftly up the stairs to the floor irbove Wright was about to follow, niton some one brushed past hini and ran up the stairs like a cat. It was the impish foreigner who had gone over the works earlier in the night, only now he wore neither boots nor hat, and his head was bald and shining, Wright stoodthere breathless, at a loss to know what to do between duty to his master and duty to himself. He would have been glad to get out into Ferry street and leave the governor to settle his own affairs as he best could, but the dread of an accomplice, of the foreigner starting out from beyond the coal and knifing him, fore'ienerlike, withheld him. Presently. gaining con- fidence by the perfect silence above, he stole up the stairs till his head rose just over the level of the floor and he could see right along the salting room. In front was the cone of the kiln; with the opening of the "archway" directly fac- ing him, filled with a glare of yellow light. On each side was deep, impene- trable shadow, thrown by the walls of the cpne. Wrigkt saw neither Kava- nagh nor the foreigner; both were somewhere in that deep shade. Suddenly there rose a scream of terror from the darkness, and Kavanagh rush- ed out into the light. He was snaking for the steps when, catching sight of a head before him and not recognizing that it was Wright in that instant, he stopped as if he had run against a wall. In that moment the foreigner leaped out of the obscurity and sprang upon "Mercy! mercy 1" cried Kavanagh, "I can explain about Vera." But the foreigner made no answer, and there was only a rattle in the gov• ernor's throat as he tried to speak again. They struggled furiously in the light that streamed through the archway. but Kavanagh could make but poor re- sistance, for his right arm was power- less and his adversary had the agility and muscular vitality of a panther. Wright did not know what to do—he hadn't tinie, he says, to think of any- thing—besides that, he could not tell what the foreigner was after. He only saw that the little span was dragging and shoving the governor nearer and nearer to the archway. Kav- anagh must have known,Ithough, for his struggles grew more and more fran- tic as they approached the opening in the kiln. Wright perceived the purpose of the foreigner when Kavanagh, with a wild scream, made a desperate effort to cling to the side of the archway. Then Wright found strength to run to his as- sistance, but it was too late. The for- eigner had torn Kavanagh away from the wall and got him right on to the dome, and they were swaying to and fro in the death struggle within a foot of the hole in the middle of the dome. For a moment they swayed there right over the steady flame. Then Kavanagh's foot slipped, and locked in each other's arms they both fell and toppled down into the body of the kiln Then, Wil- liam Wright says. the yellow flame turn- ed a red brown for a minute or two with the thick smoke that streamed up. • „r w,,tc•a.:n CHAPTER LI. I BECOME A PRINCESS. When Mr. Pelham brought the news of Cavanagh's death to us, he exclaimed in accents of horror: "What a shocking event! What an awful tragedy !" And he added with still greater pathos, "What a beautiful case we have lost!" "There is plenty left for you to do." said Gordon. "Affairs at Lambeth must be in a very complicated condi tion." "Terribly:complicated, I should say, tis. The heirs.of the late Mr. Kavanagh will naturally put in a claim upon the estate." "You will settle what is due to them, and if they claim more fight 'em." "Fight them, sir?—yes, with pleasure. Then there's Mr. Bell's claim as part- ner." "Well, I beg you to do the very best you can for him." "Certainly, but there's your own soli- citor. He may raise objections in your behalf." "So much the batter for yon. You can fight him. Make a good job of it, you know. Don't hurry it." "You can depend upon that. I allude, of course, to making a good job of it." The next great event was the marriage of George Gurdon and Judith Bell. That WAS a very grand' affair, for George would have it so. There were eight bridesmaids, and I was one of them. The Grange was full of visitors at that time, every room was occupied, and the place rang with the pleasant sound of laugter and young voices from morning till night, and indeed from night till morn- ing sometimes when there was dancing. Mere Lucas consented to have a cook under her, and the whole management of the house was given tome and a bevy of new servants All this was very strange to isle. That perhaps is why I find it so difficult to describe. It was delightful to find my • self surrounded by cultivated girls wlio led eventless lives, tolisten to their eag- er talk about dross and trifles and to feel that I also was free from care and anxiety. I shared their pleasures to the, full and joined with excitement in all their amusements. I was light hearted and happy through the whole round of innocent dissipation, and yet–,well, T was happier still when it was all over and w aleft,T r I to renew werea as and our quiet life. Taros seemed to regret the absence of his friends more than I: He was un- usually grave the morning after Gordon and his wife went away. x ore iniss the hula of voices?" I said '' II as we were walkiug in the Garden. G (? I G U Li E day." It cannot always be day," said I gently to console him, "and, after all, evening is the most beautiful time." "1)o you think so?" he asked quickly: "1 cul afraid I do. 1 love ealw too much perhaps; I can think of nothing mora beautiful than a quiet life, such' as we lived in the old days, 'You see I am. unused to society; but," I added hope- fully, ••in time 1 shall fall iu with the ways of other people and like t been more. I must like all that you lige." "Would you never want anything more than I could give yon—nothing more than a share in the jog s of a mau like me?" "There is no other roan like you. If I share all that befalls you—joys and griefs—and be always your colupauion, your little friend"— "You must be more to me than that," he said, stopping' and speaking with passionate fervor as he took me into his arms. "You must be guy wife!" We were married quietly before Gor- don and his wife returned from their honeymoon, and thus Tares gave me a second name—snore than teat indeed, for those who like the sound of titles call me the Princess Borgens.cy. • TH1C ETD. j Washing Lace Curtains. A good housekeeper will never put away liar lace ourtalns in a soiled con- dition, as the dirt left in them` for sever- al months is harder to wash out, and re- quires a much severer rubbing of the delicate fabric. It ono has a curtain frame, it is a very simple matter to do them up at home, but it is by no means impossible to manage without one, The curtains should be left to soak in warm, soapy water, so that they will require as little rubbing as possible to get them clean, and this should be done with the hands, as a board is simply ruinous. Make a thin boiled starch, slightly blue, and dip the curtains in, wringing them out gently. Then take clean bed sheets and pin the urtains on the sheets to dry, being careful to pin 'them exactly in shape, so that they will be perfectly square and even when dry. Some people dampen and iron the curtains, but it is very bad for the fabric, and they never hang properly afterward, FASHIONED FOR THE NECK. All in the Force oP Vests and Are Neees• sarr With Tailor Gowns. Almost any woman who has ingen- uity at her fingertips, and even a moder- ate amount of spare time, prefers to fash- ion her own dainty neok lingerie, if only she can seouro the ideas. For those who care to try, the following descriptions willbe of benefit. -The designs are all in the form of vests, and what is more ne- cessary with the and gown than some form of fanny vest, to be worn when one wishes to be a little inure finely dressed than one feels she is in a shirt waist front. Women have taken so kindly to "linens," in the way of gowns, that our first choice may safely be a front to ao- oompany a linen gown, that shall brighten it, The flat vest shape may be cut from a piece of thin white crinoline for a foundation; over this shdtlld be placed a covering of navy blue linen, the coarse sort, showing big pebbles on its surface. A straight band down the front is of batiste embroidery in tan and dark blue, laid on Andy, with folds of the batiste either side as a finish. To top it all off is FASHIONED FOR TAE NECK. a finish of the batiste embroidery set on in narrow frills. A high stock of the blue linen is ar- ranged so as to fasten in the back, and is edged with narrow batiste embroidery. This front may be attached by hooks to the front of the jacket. The second design is a trifle more dressy, and may be worn either with a suit of linen or of white pique. It is made up of white chine silk, in blousy effect, with a center band of brown -tinted white lace, laid on flatly. The high, turned -over Dollar of stiffened white silk, under which is run a broad ribbon of white taffeta, fastened in a huge bow at the back, to rest on the outside of the jacket. Still another pretty front is made of frills of white mousseline de soie, set on as full as possible from the throat to the belt. Each frill is edged simply with a tiny ribbon of white satin, set the width of the hem from the edge. At Home Days. It is in excessively bad taste not „to remain at home on the day noticed on one's cards. Nothing but absolute neces- sity should induce a lady to absent her- self on such an occasion. . Tea, which promotes sociability, is always offered on an' "at home" day.• In the country it is correct to offer it to all. callers, no matter how early they arrive, as the distances are great, and it is looked upon as a great breach of hos- pitality not to offer this welcome refresh- ment to a guest who may have had a long walk or drive. In town it is seldom served before four or half -past four. When the hostess' visiting list is large and she may reasonably expect a number of call- ers, it is generally found convenient to serve tea in an adjoining room, other- wise it may be bought into the drawing- sroom and poured out by the hostess. There are certain paints for visitors to. observe as well as hostesses upon these occasions: Callers on an "at home". day stay from ten minutes' to an hour, ac- cordingto the degree of their : R intimacy at the house. Those whose first' call it is come early and only remain the ceremon- ial ten minutes; more intimate friends drop in about tea hour with intent to stay. Portable Gates. A portable fence is one of the useful things on the farm, especially where por- tinus of a field are to be pastured in suonession, or where only part of a field is used as pasturage for stock. As ordinarily constructed, the portable fence is heavy, nuwieldy, hard to move frown place to place, and still harder to set. up again; or tf made .light to avoid this objectionable feature, itlacks the strength necessary for a fence that will etiectus ally turn stook, and it is also very easily overturned by the wind. Toe bast portable fence in use in this part of the country is shown in the figures. It is unpatented. the invention of a practical farmer, and appears to he about as near perfection as any we are likely to find. It is strong, yet light and easily handled, can be easily set up or taken down, and is not overturned by ordinary storms. The panels are made of pine scant- ling, two by three inches. The rails, ahovo and below, are 16 feet long, with clear space of 2% fent between then. They are connected by an upright post ab each end, leaving four inches of the rail projecting beyond the post to lie in the notches of the support when set up. The upright posts are 4% feet long, ex- tending six inches below the lower rail and a foot above the upper. The braces at the center are each seven feet long, and are placed upon the frame, making o right angle above, and, like the posts, reaching six mosses below the lower rail. Wherever these pieces cross they are bolted together with a quarter -inch bolt. Barbed wires are stretched from post to post, fastened also to the braces. In making those panels, a barn floor is the bust workshop. After one has been made to measure, it is laid flat upon the floor, the pieces of the next are arranged in place just above those of the first, a nail is driven into each crossing to pre- vent displacement while putting in the bolts, and the work is finished by put- ting on the wires before it is taken up. In this way a largo number of panels can be made in a comparatively short time. The supports are made of oak scantlings, two inches square. The legs are 4 % feet long, bolted together without notching or framing of any kind, and spread to a width of four feet at the base. In the fork above, a triangular notch an inch deep is out on the outside of each piece, a place where the opposite sides of these notches are four inches apart, or just wide enough to receive the ends of the two panels. Tsvo feet eight inches below this, an oak board six inches wide is nailed across the legs. At the touter of ha upper edge, a notch four innhes wide and one inch deep is out, snaking two feet nine inches between the notches that are to holdthe upper and lower panel rails. The points of superiority claimed for this fence are lightness, combined with strength and durability, small area of surface presented to the wind, ease of construction, and comparatively small cost. On level ground, the panels come solidly together, yet as they may be two inches apart above or below, it will cross a hill or valley at considerable curvature. That it is easy to handle is proved by the fact that two men can take down, move half a mile, and set up a hundred rods in half a day.—Country Gentleman. Preserving Eggs in Sumner. There are a great many processes for preserving eggs in summer so as to keep them for, higher prices. Some resort to packing in lime or lime solutions, or coat the eggs with some substance that renders them impervious to air. .A11 the processes will usually serve the purpose, but when the eggs reach the market they are not "fresh" in the strict interpreta- tion of the term, and do not sell at prides which inake it profitable to pro- duce them. The best and cheapest mode is to remove the males, as infertile eggs will keep three times as lung as those used for hatching. Place them on ranks or shelves, and turn them three times a week. Keep them in a cool plane, the cooler the better. Eggs kept in this man- ner (especially if the shales have been re- moved) should be in excellent condition at the end of three months, which is long enough to secure better prices. They will keep for six months in a tempera- ture of 50 degrees. it will not be profit- able to buy eggs to preserve, as there is too much risk of bad ones, and one stale egg will spoil all. Late Chicks. Late chicks never seem to thrive as well as those hatched early, but that is due to line. In fact the late chick has every advantage over the early one, as the warmer weather is in its favor, and there is a greater variety of food; yet the late chicks do not grow as rapidly from the start as early hatched ones. Look for the large lice on their heads, as they are generally at fault. The mites are also annoying, but they can be seen, while the large lice require a dareful search for their discovery. INEXPENSIVE SHRUBBERY. It Weald Add to the Beauty and Value of Every Farm. Many farmers are deterred from plant- i#';, ing ornamental shrubs and trees by the • snpposed necessary expense. They have. a variety of large and small fruit, but these are part of the economy of the farm, and represent money well invested. Fruit trees and plants are longer in com- ing to maturity than annual crops, but are just as sure in the end; and the wise farmer is' fully aware that apple orchards • and strawberry beds pay better interest than county banks. But with shrubbery it is different. The farmer niay realize that ornamenta- tionhas something to do with determin- ing the value of his place, but it does not opine home to him so forcibly as the apple orchard and vineyard, and he puts it off from year to year, until money is more plentiful, or he has more time, and the bare surroundings of his house are left to the charity of the small annuals which his wife and daughters raise from seed or are able to parry over from year to year by means of slips, and perhaps to the occasional sweet -briar or peony root,prooured from a flower -loving neigh- bor. It is not that the farmer dislikes shrubbery or is niggardly with hi sl• money. He is rarely naught up with his VP-, work, and there are always important things waiting bis attention—things that take money and time, and are of prime importance to the prosperity of the farm.'"? And, then, ready money is undeniably scarce even to the average farmer, who is getting ahead; new horses or tools or buildings are needed, and the small an- onniulations go to provide thein; and the shrubbery is put off and off, and fin- ally is lost sight of. If the farmer knew how cheaply his grounds could be ornamented, I am con- vinced there would' be fewer unsightly yards in the country. Even the boys and girls, with a little trouble, could sur- round the house with beautiful trees and shrubs and ciasnbering vines, and the cost would be only a few days' work each year. There is scarcely a tree or shrub that will not propagate readily from cut- tings in a moist piece of ground in the spring,and give thorn one or two hoeings. By the second year they will be large enough to transplant to permanent quart- ers. Herbaceous plants, like lillies, phloxes, peonies, irises, yuccas, anemones and hundreds of others, can have their roots divided and subdivided, and the plants will be all the more thrifty for the division. Pruning is the seoret of successful shrub -growing, and in nearly every lo- cality can be found a fair assortment of shrubs and pints whose owners would bo perfectly willing to give away the cuttings of each pruning; and nuttings of suoh desirable shrubs as might not be found in the neighborhood could easily be procured from a nursery for • a few cents. I know a young man who bas several acres of fine shrubbery, nearly all of which be raised from cuttings pro - mired in the neighborhood. What would have cost him several hundred dollars at a nursery only cost hims a few days' la- bor and some years of waiting. There are dozens of handsome California privet hedges in this vicinity, all raised from cuttings furnished by a gentleman a few miles nwny, who prunes his hedge three or four times each summer,I have prop- agated rop-agated thousands of willows, poplars, hydrangeas, altheas, roses, spireas and other trees and shrubs and lost less bsian 5 per cent. of the cutting. Outside of the saving, there is a fascination in rale - lug one's own shrubbery; and, if desir- able, one can easily make it a source of uo inconsiderable profit. I know small farmers who odd a hundred dollars or more each year to their income by grow- ing a small assortment of plants for lo- cal trade.—Now York Ledger. , Annoyance From Insects. When the comb of a fowl is torn or the legs injured, insects will take advantage. of the opportunity to annoy the bird. Get a pint of linseed oil and add a table- spoonful of oil of tar and the sante of kerosene Use a few drops of the mixture on the injured place and it will keep insects off and act as a curing' liniment. Itis the best substance that can be used for the large lice on the heads and for scabby legs. ' `.17111 Clean Straining Cloths. s Jelly bags and straining nloths should not be washed with soap, but soaked in very hot water and squeezed dry before finally rinsing in tepid water, Ozone Apparatus. Ozone is now frequently employed by electrotherapists for the treatment of tu- berculosis, anaemia, and affections of the throat and nose. It is an admirable purifier of bad air, and is used in the library of the British Museum, in Lon- don, and other places of public resort where ventilation is inadequate to the renewal of the air vitiated by the con- tinued presence of a large number of vis- itors. In hospitals, ozone is manufac- tured by large static machines, and then dissipated through the wards by means of electric fans. One of the latest novel- ties in electrical instruments Is an ozone Inhaler for domestic use, by which a patient can carry out at home the treat- ment prescribed by his physician. It con - sits of several tubes a few inches long, surrounded by an aluminum armature, with electric connections. One terlmnal of the secondary coil is 'connected to a copper wire running the length of a vacuum tube, the other to the aluminum covering, which has numerous points di- rectly toward it. From these points, when the current is turned on, is sent out a stream of sparks of purple and magenta tint, and the oxygen of the air is converted into ozone. The operation of this instrument has a most refreshing and beneficial effect on the patient, Oriental Dislike of Black. If there is anything that an Oriental dislikes it is somber garments, and it said that the only reason why Queen Vii toria's Munshi, her Hindustani teacher and interpreter, has asked for leave of absence ' was to go to India and be cheer- ful while the Court of St. James is in half -mourning. To be sure he said he was ill and must needs go home to In- dia to recruit his health. But as the Queen's Indian domestics who remain are in intense and melancholic sulks be- cause they are obliged to go about in unbecoming brown and white instead of their usual splendor of color, it is be- lieved that the Munshi's determination to absent himself until after the period of mourning for Prince Henry MOW& origin in the same dislike of seriousness. Brown is considered good enough black for East Indians to wear, and it certainly harmonizes with their complexions. The Queen's desire to see her ladies' of the lied -chamber and her maids of honor in half -mourning or serious apparel when they are in attendance upon her is inure ensily met, for there is nothing that can be made more gay in effect • than black and white if arranged in dashing stripes or spots or dots, as every wonion knows Well. A Girl's Composition on Boys. Tho boy is not an animal, yet they cnn be heard to a considerable distance. When a boy hollers be opens his big mouth likefrogs, but girls hold their tongue till they are spoke to, and then they answer 'respectable and tell just how it was. A boy thinks himself clever because he can wade where it is deep, but God. made the dry land for every y living thing and rested on the seventh day. When the boy grows up he is called a husband, and then he stops wading and strays out nights, but the grew up girl is a widow and keeps house. s.