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The Exeter Advocate, 1896-10-29, Page 6ONLY TO -DAY. Yeeterday now is a part ot forever, Bound up in. a, theat which God holds tight, With geed clays end sad days and bad days which. never Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight. noLt fullness of sunshine eor sorrowful aight. Let them go, Sillee we cermet relieve thena Cannot undo and cannot atoue; Ged in Me mercy forgive, receive theta! Only the new days are our own. To -day is ours, aud to -day athlete "IRE W011AN 01? STONE'. Lurine was pretty, Petite and 18. She had a nice situation at. the Pharmacia de Siam, in the Rae St. Houore. She had UG one deperideet upou her, and all the money she earued was her own. Her dress was of cheap material perhaps, but iv wee oat and flitted with that daintiuess ,of perfectiou which seems to be the natural gift of the Parisienne, so that one never thought of the cheapness, but ad- mired only the effect which was charming. Site was bookkeeper and gentle assistaut •at the pleura/tale lute had a little room of her own across the Seine, in. the Rae de Lille. Sue crossed the river twice every day -owes in the morning when the sun was shiuing, and again at night when the radiant lights along the riv'er's bauk glit- tered like jewele in a long tzecklace. She had her tittle walk through the gardens of the Tnileries every morning after she had crossed the Pout Royal, but diil riot return through the gardens iu the evening, for a park tu the rimming is a different thiug to a park at night. Oa her return she al- ways walked along the Rue de 'Tuileries until she came to the bridge to see the gleaming white statue e in the sunlight. Her favorite statue was one of a woman who atood on a pedestal netfe the Rue de Atwell The arm was thrown over her head, and there was a smile on the marble lace whittle was inscrutable. It fascinated the girl as she looked up to it, aud seemed to be the moruiug greeting to her busy .day's work in the city. If no one was in sight, which was often the case at S o'clock in tbe morning, the girl kissed the tips of her fingers, and tossed the salute airily up eta the statue, and the woman of stone always smiled back at her the strange, xaystical smile whieh seemed to express that it knew much more of this world and its ways than uid the little Parisienne who daily gazed up at her. t Lariat) was happy, as a master of course, for was not Paris always beautiful? Did xtot the stm shine brightly? ,A.nd was not the air always clear? What more, then, could a young girl wish? There was one thing which was perhaps lacking, but that .at last was supplied; and then there was not a happier gerl. in all Paris than Lurine. She ahnoet cried it aloud to her favorite statue the uext morning, far it seemed to her that the smile had broadened same she had passed it the morning before, and she felt as if the woman ot stone guessed the secret of the woman of flesh. Luriue had noticed him for several days lavertug about the pnarmacie, and looking in at her now and thee.; sue saw it all, but pretended not to see. One night he followed her as far as the bridge, Out she walked rapidly on, and he did nut overtake her. Ile never enter- ed the pharmacie, but lingered about as if waiting for a chance to speak to her. Lurine had no one to confide in but the woulau of stone, mid it seemed by her smile that she uuderstood already, and there was no need to tell her that the inevitatee young man had come. The next uigue he tollnwed her quite across the bridge, and this time Lame did not walk so quickly. Girls in her position are not supposed tu have formal introduc- tions so their lovers, -Good evening," was all he said to her. She glanced sideways shyly at him, but zed not answer, aud the young man walk- ed en heath/ her. eyou come this way every night," he said. "1 have beeu watching you. Are you offended?" ene" she said, almost in a whisper. anen may I walk with you to your homer he asked. 'Yon may walk with MO as far as the corner of the Rue de Lille," she replied. "Tharak you!" said the young fellow, and. together they walked the short dis- zence. and there he bade her good -night, after asking permission to meet her at the corner of the Rue St. Honore, and walk home with her the next night, "You mast not come to the shop," she said. "I understand," he replied, nodding his head in assent to her wishes. He told her his name was Jean Duret. and by-and-by she ealled him Jean, and he called her Latina He never haunted the Phasmacie now, but waited. for her at the corner, and -one Sunday he took her for a little excur- sion on the river, which she enjoyed ex- ceedingly. Thus time went on, and Larine was very happy. The statue smiled its enigmatical smile, though, when the sky was overcast, there seemed to her a subtle 'warning in the smile. Perhaps it was be- oanse they had quarreled the night before. Jean had seemed to her harsh and unfor- giving. He had asked her if she could not bring him some things from the Phar - made, and gave her a list of three chem- icals, the names ot which he had written On a paper. "You can easily get them," he had said; they are in every pharmacie, and. will never be missed." "Sue" said the girl in horror, "that would be stealing." The young man laughed. "How much do they pay you there?" he asked. And when she told him, he laugh- ed again, tired said: "Why, blest you, if I got so little as that 1 would take something from, the shelves every day and sell it." The girl looked at him in amazement, and he, angry at her, turned upon his heel and left her. She leaned her arras upon the parapet of the bridge, and looked down into the dark -water. The river always fascinated her at night, and, she ofteu paused to look at it when crossing the bridge, shuddering as she did so. She tried a little as she taouglit of his abrupt ,departure, and wondered if she had been too harsh with him. After all, it was not very much he asked her to do, and they •did pay her so little at the pharmacie. And then, perhaps her lover was poor, and needed the al ticles he had asked her to get. Perhaps he was ill, aud had said nothing. . There was is touch ore her shoulder. She looked round. Jean was beside her, but the frown had not yet disappeared from his brow. 'Give Me that paper," he said, abruptly. She 'unclosed her hand, and he picked the paper from it, and was turtling away. "Stop!" she said; -I will get you what you want, but I will myself put the money in the till for what they ease ' ' He stood there, looking at her for a rnoraent, and then said: "Lurine, I tidbit you are a little fool. They owe you ever so much raore than that However, I must have the things," and he gave her back the paper, with the caution: "Be sure you let no one eee that. and be very certain that you get the right things." He walked with her as far as the corner of Be de Lille. "You are not artery with me?" be naked her before they parted. "I would do anythine°for you," she whispered, and then he kissed her good- night. She got the chemicals when the proprie- tor was erre and tied theni up neatly, as was her habit, afterwerds concealing them in the little basket in wbich she earried her lunch. The proprietor was a sharp- eyed old lynx, who luoked well after his shop and his pretty little assistant. "Who has been getting so much ehlorate of pettish?" he asked, takiug down the jar, and lookiug sharply at her. The girl trembled. "It is all right," she said. "Here is the money in the till." "Of coarse," he said. "I did not expect you to give it away for nothiug. Who bought it?" "An old man." replied the girl, treenb- ling still, but the proprietor did not notice that—he was flaunting the namiey, and found it right. "I was wondering what ire wanted with so much of it. If lie conies he again look sharply at him, and be able to deeeribe him to nie. It seems euspleious." Why it seem- ed suspicious Lurine did not kaow, ,but she passed an anxious time until she took the basket in her hand and went to meet her lover at the corner of the Rue des Pyr- amides. His first question was— "Have you brougnt me the things?" "Yes," she answered. "Will you take them here, now?" "Not here, not here," he replied hurried - V, and then ask anxiously, "Did anyoue see you take them?" "No, but the proprietor knows of the large package, fur he counted the money." "What money?" asked Jean. "Why, the money for the things. Yon don't think I was pine to steal them, did you!" The young man laughed, and drew her into a quiet coruer of the gardens of the Tuileries. "I will not have time to go with you to the Rue de Lille to night," he said. "But you will come as usual to -morrow night?" she asked, anxiously. "Certainly, certainty," he replied, as he rapidly conuealed the packages in his pockets. The next night the girl waited patiently for her lover as the corner where they were in the habit of meeting, but he did not oome. At last she saw a man running rapidly down the street, and as be passed a brilliantly -lighted window she rec- ognized Jean. Ile came quickly towards her. "Here I am," she cried, running for- ward. She caught him by the arm, say- ine,e. "Oh, Jean, what is the matter?" .2 He shook her rudely and shouted at her —"Let me go, you fool!" But she clung to him, until he raised his fist and struck her squarely in the face. Lurine staggered against the wall, and Jean ran au. A stalwart man who had spoken to Lurizie a few momeuts before, and, not understand- ing her silence, stood in a doorway near watching her, sprang out when he sew the assault, and thrust leis stick between the feet of the flying man, flinging him face forward en th.e pavement. The next in- stant he placed. his foot uetweee his shoul- ders, holdiug hira down as if he were a snake. "You villain!" he cried. "Strike is wo- man, would you?" Jean lay there as if stunned, and two gens d'armes came pantingly upoa the scene. "This scoundrel," said the man, "has just asslulted a woman. 1 saw him." "He hiss done more than that," said one of the officers, grimly, as if, after all, the striking, of the woman was but a trivial affair. They secured the yonug man and drag- ged him with them. The girl came no to them and said, falteringly— "It is all a mistake, it was au accident. He didn't mean to do it." "Oh, he didn't, and pray how do you know?" esked one of ths officers. -You little devil," said Jean to the girl through his clinched. teeth, "it's all your fault." The officers hurried hira off. "I think," said one, -that we should have arrested the girl; you heard what she said." "Yes," said the other, "but we have enough on our hands now. if the crowd finds out who he is." Lurine thought of following them, but she was so stunned by the words that her lover hed said to her, rather than by the blow he had given her, that she turned her steps sadly toward the Point Royal and went to her room. The next morning she did. notgo through the gardens, as -mai, to her work, and when she entered the Pharmacia de Siam, the proprietor cried out, "Here she is, the vixen! Who would have thought it of her? You wretch, you stole my drugs to give to that villain!" "I did not," said Lurine, stoutly. "I put the money in the till for them." "Hear her! She confesses!" said the proprietor. The two concealed officers stepped for- ward and arrested her where she stood as the accomplice of Jean Duret, who, the night before, had flung a bomb in the crowded Avenue do rOpera. Even the prejudiced French judges soon saw that the girl was innocent of all evil intent, and was bat the victim of the scoundrel who passed by the name of Jean Duret. Be was sentenced for life; she was set free. He had tried to place the blame on her, like the craven he was, to shield another woman. This was what out Lur- ine to the heart. She might have tried to find an excuse for his crime, but she real- ized that he had never cared for her, and, but used her as his tool to get possession of the chemicals he dared not buy. • In the drizzling rain she walked away from her prison, penniless, and broken in body • and spirit. She passed the little • Pharmacia • de Siam, not daring to entet She walked in the rain along the Rue des I'yraraides, and across the Rue de Rivoli, and into the Tuileries Gardens. She had forgotten about her stone woman, but, un- consciously, her steps were directed to her. She looked -up at her steam with amaze - meat, at first not recognizing it. It was no longer the statue of a smilieg woman. The bead was thrown back, the eyes closed. The last mortal agony was on the face. It was a gbastly monument to death. The girl was so perplexed by the change in her statue that for a moment she forgot the ruire of her own life. She saw that the smiling face was bat a meek, beld in place by the curving, of the left arm over it. Life, ole realized now, was made up of tragedy and comedy, and he who sees but the smiling face, sees bat the half of life. "I, too, will be a woman of stone," the said, as she swiftly descended the steps of She bridge. A DIAMOND NECKLACE. One Senday metering two young men sat in the smoking -room of a cozy tipartment. Outside the suow was falling sileutly iu great blne,white flakes. ' On the divan, les tail and lege orna- mented with tufts of curly black hair, his body shaved in the impeoved faehion, a poodle slumbered pezicefully, and Floyd Taller, the owner of the preuriees, attired , in a smoking jacket ,of a horsey Plaid, was lolling in en easy chair, his slipperecl feet stretched toward the fire. His companion, Arthur Van Stade, had been iris •greatest friend at college and this was their first meeting in three years. Van Stade nad been in India killieg big game. and had barely escaped baying the tables earned, as a large scar across one eheek ttistified. Taller had stayed at home, but to hirn had come the greater chanee. As he expressed it, he was "a settled °down old married man with a family"—wbich meant that he had the sweetest little wife in the world and a tiny mita of pink -and -white human- ity, known in the house as Baby. "That's rether a. fine dog you have there, Arthur," said. Van Stade, turning to the poodle and lazily looking over the sleepy animal.: "Well I should think so," replied Taller; "I don't suppose you will believe nee when I tell you that when he came into my pos- session he was worth no less than $1,000. • The epring after you went away," he went on, "having finished my coarse, I went over to the other side for the London sea- son, I went to Louden and in Loudon I stayed long after the time I had allotted to Shat city had expired. It was there I met Edith. In six weekswe were engaged. The remaiuder at the sumtuor I passed iu Scotland with the family of nay fiancee. They had planned tu go to Nice when the cold weather came on, and of course I de- termined to go with them. We went as far as Paris together, but at the last mo- ment 1 was detained in that city for a few da s and was obliged to allow the rest of She party to proceed without me, promis- lug to join them in a week at most. "1 had run short of funds, and the re- reheat:ice expected from my father had not arrived. This 1 did not consider neces- sary to explain to Edith and her family. I said vaeuely that busineee kept me in Paris. °Four days after their departure the letter front my father arrived. He had heard of my eugag,emeut and, to my satis. teatime, approved of it Besides the amount expected, he sent an additional $1,000, with which he instructed me to buy a suitable present for Edith. As the modest diamond I had bought for our en- gagement had been my only gitt, I was Pleased and gratified with my father's gen- erous present. • -The following morning I started out in search of something fur my dear girl, whom I should be with the very next day. My $1,000, which had seemed so much, now appeared ridlculonsly small, and I had almost despaired of finding anything wor thy of my beloved when nay eyes fell upon an extremely beautiful necklace, cousist- ing of two rows of pearls caught together at intervals by email diamond clasps. ' 'I asked the price. ''Five thousand francs, Monsieur,' re- plied the salesman. "Exactly the sum I had to spend! I bougut it without a moment's hesitation. The little blue bux was aleont to be wrap- ped up when the salestnan discovered some imperfection in the amp. He was pro- fuse in his apologies and said that it would be repaired audiready for me the follow- . ng morzung. I expleined that aria would not clo, as I was to leave the city on the night express for Niece. After a mo- ment's hesitation the jeweler promised that I should have it at 6 o'clock, without fail. "As I was leaving the store I noticed a womau standing by my side. I say I noticed a wearan ; it would be more cor- rect to say that 1 noticed a beautiful white hand with long taper fingers, cm one of 'which was a diamond of unusual size and brilliauoy. In this hand was a small jewelled watch, and as.I was leaving tue counter I caugat it tew words spoken in a pecaliar musical voice. "At 6 o'clock I returned, and, true to his promise. the man had the necklace ready for me. Placing it in the iuside pecket of my coat, I left the store and had just time to complete a few remaining ar- rangements before going to the station. I bought a firstclass ticket and tipped the guard, after giving him to understand in my very best French. that I did not want him to put other passengens in my com- partment. I tucked my travelliug rug around my kuees, opened a Frencls novel, when the door was opened and a woman hurriedly. entered the compartment and took the seat next the window on the other sidtwof the cer. I glanced at my unwel- come companion, she was dressed.in mourning of the richest material and in perfect tasze. As I was noticiug these de- tails something by her side that I had at first trkeu for is fur cape moved. It prov- ed to be a blizek French poodle, aud as he sat up and tamed his head toward. me I save that arouud his neck he wore a broad silver collar from which depended a pecu- liar hearastutped padloek. "Turning to my novel, 1 soon forgot the intruders, nor did I again think of them until perhaps half an hour later, when I was startled by feeling something cold and wet pressed against my hand. It was the poodle's nose. He had crawled across the seat and was evidently desirous of making my acqnaintance. "Chico, come here," exelahned sin- gularly familiar voice. "The dog paid no attentioji to his mis- tress, but wagged his tail contentedly as I stroked his curly head. "'You must excuse my dog, sir,' said ray companion. 'He is a great pet and ex - poets every one to notice him. I am afraid he will annoy you.' ' "I protested that he would not, and add- ed. that I was fond of 'dogs, poodles in par- ticular. Perhaps my answer was due, in part, to the fact that the woman was young and very beautiful.- I had only that Minute become aware of this, the light having been too dint in the station to let the see her face. Her voice, too, affected me singnlarly; it was low and sweet and I was sure that somewhere I had heard it before • "A little later, on looking up. I found that my companion was without books or papers, so taking an illustrated magazine from my satchel 1 offered it to her. She thanked me and smiled sweetly. 'After a time I grew tired of my novel and resolv- ed to attempt a little conversation with my neighbor. I asked her if she was going to Nice. She replied that she was, and went on to say that aer sister, whom she had expected Would cm with her, had disap- pointed her at. the last moment. , She spoke oil her dislike for traveling alone,. particularly at night, and explained that as the compartment reserved for ladies, was full she was obliged to enter mine. She was sorry to intrude, but the train was about to start and the guard had told her all the other seats were taken. I has- tened to assure her that I was glad of the ,,,•.4.,....,t'••••t• • k luoky chance that had given me so charm - leg a companion. 'As the evening wore on she opened a' basket containing a dein ty lunch. 'Would 1 shute it with hey? The cook evidently bad a ridiculous idea of her appetite. Why. there WAS enough for six !' This seemed • to be the case; SQ, as we were by this time very well acquainted, I aecepted her invi- tatioe, and we were soon duerg jnetiee to a really excellent lueizie agerata charming., creature she is,' I (bought. 'How Edith vvill like her.' Growing confidential, 1 spoke of ney visit to Ilk° and of the dear girl who was await - me there. She seemed interested, and lisieued patiently to ttle recital of my fair 0056 many obtains. ' " 'We will drink her health!' .crieti nay companiou, gayly, drawiug a small silver flask of exquisite workmanship frum the depths of her bashea 'I always win"' a little cognac with me in case of sickuese,' she explained. Operant; the ilask and filling a dainty glass with the amber liquid, she handed it to me with it radiant made, 'To Edith's health.' she said. "I drained the glass. It was braudy of the fittest quality I had ever tasted. She seemed to lead my thoughts. are a endge of good liquor. Thal is Otard of 1870! 'Taking the glass from my hand she poured a little of the liquor into it and barely tweeted it with her lips. Soon after this I began to grow sleepy, aud as my companion did not seem in- clined • to talk. I made myself as comfort. able as circumstances would permit. I =lied my head toward the window,' through which the surrounding country (egad be seen dimly in the moonligh' as we rushed along, pat a roll of rugs ander my heed and resigned myself to a eight of dzscouifort. The next thing it was broad daylight. I awoke with a dull pain in my head and ti sense of wearinees that my sleep bad rather increased than dimin- ished. • "aly companion was sitting by the win- dow reading the book I had given her the night before, On perceiving that Iwas awake she put down her book and eemark- ed that I was evidently a sound sleeper and that she envied rue. She had passed a wretched night and was glad that we ehoeld seen be in Nice. I thought of Edith, whom I should now see so soon, and then of the surprise I had in store for her. . "I hoped that the necklace would please her, and then, for the first time, it oecur. red to ine that perhaps it would have been better if ,I had consulted some woman of taste before buying it. A brilliant idea struck me—my companiou was jnst the one to decide. • I would ask her opiniou. le was not too late to change the necklace for some.hing else if she thought it not suitable. I was sure she would tell me candidly just what she thought. .'Unbuttouing my coat I drew the pack. age from my poeket and laid it on my lap - Removing the wrappings I opened the lit. tis blue case. Fur a moment I could not believe iny eyes—it was empty! "I turnea quickly to my companion. She was leaning forward motionless, breathless, her face pale and iu her eyes a look that I shall never forget. One haucl was pressed convulsively over her heart. She had removed her gloves worn the night before, and on one finger blazed it dia- cnond—the one I had seen the previous day at the jeweler's. In an instant I saw it all. I spraug forward and grasped her wrist—roughly, I am afraid. - 'Give me back the necklace, you thief,' I cried. 'I know you,' You stood by my side yesterday he the jeweler's shop on the Avenue de l'Opera. I remember that ring and your voice. You heard me say that I was going to Nice by this train. The liquor yon gave me was drugged and you thought to escape before your theft was discovered. It was a very clever scheme, but 1 has failed. Give me the necklace or Isbell turn you over to the police.' "I stretched out my hand, thinking that, steina the telly of further conceal- ment and the uselessness of denial, she would return the stolen property. I was wrong. She drew herself up haughtily and looked me full izt the face. " 'Yon have brought a serious charge against me,' she said, 'and one of which I am innocent. I am alone, and a woznan'— this with a momentary tremor in her voice Shat somehow made me ashamed of the way I had spoken to her. 'If, as you say, you have lost a necklace, your only reason for accusing me of having stolen it is that we have been the only occupants of this compartment. The instant you opeued tue box and found' it empty I saw the awful position I was placed in. Fortun- ately, however, I can prove my innocence. "'Perhaps you may hesitate before at- tentpting to blankmall an miprotected wo- man. As soon as we arrive at Nice I shall hisist on going at once to the police sza tion, where a thorough search of my bag- gage and person shall be made. I sladl Shen ask -eon to prove that you over had a necklace.' This remark was accompanied by a smile that was not pleasant to see. 'Until we reault Nice you will not address 1110 again.' "She,leaued back in her seat and turned her face toward the window. I felt rather than saw that she was crying. "I began to feel uncomfortable. What if, after all, I had been too ready to jump at conclusions and had beeu mistaken. Was it not possible that the box might have been empty when I received it from She jewelers? 1 had not seen the necklace) after it was left . to be repaired, • as the box was wrapped up when I called for it• My companion had in- sisted on an iuvestigatiou that might proie her innocence --an investigation that a guilty woman .would never haye proposed. Besides this, she had expressed a doubt as to the existence of the necklace and had accused me of an attempt of blackmail.. The more I thought oe it the more un- pleasaut my position became. • "Suddenly my eyes fell on • something bright • lying on the floor of the carriage. I stooped and picked le up. It proved to be •the little name -shaped padlock I had noticed the night before on the poodle's collar. Like a flash a thought came to me; here might 'oe the solution of the problem; at any rate I would put it to the test,. No time must be lost, as we were just enteeingehe station and in a moment more the guard' would open the carriage door. "Reaching across the seat with a quick motion, I drew the sleeping animal t� any • side. , The woman sprang foward, to pre- vent me, but she was too late. 1 had al- ready torn the collar from the dog's neck and was holding it to the light that enter- ed dimly through the window ,from the stetion. • "1 breathed a sigh of relief; the inside of the collar 'contained a hollow groove, WV" iT1 this groove; securely fastened, lay the missing necklace. I turned'. trium- phantly to my 000ipalli011. The door was open; she was gone. • "That morning as I entered. Edith's par- lor the little poodle trotted ccuitentedly Ly my side, and instead of the pollar he wore the necklace. As for the wontan, I never saw her again. —Kate Fild's Washington. THE GARDCN CULTURE OF LILIES. Different Kinds Need Different Kinds of Treatment. In gerden operations the cultivation of the lily is not generally understood except by those who have given attention to this beautiful and satisfaotory bulbous plant. The divisions of the lily family are quite numerous, and embrace so many varieties coupled with such widely differing, requirements of cultivation, that it full knowledge of them all neces- sitates close observation, with the nrac tical experience which in all gardening operations is so essential to success. Many of the lilies,entbracing some of the most beautiful kinds, are not amenable to garden culture in this latitude. Cur severe winters, with the alternate thaw- ing and freezing of the soil at critioal periods, are fatal to the bulbs in the soil. That magnifieent my, Auratum, the golden -banded lily of Japan, which is imported in such vast quantities, cannot be depended upon to live through more Shan one or two winters here. If planted in the garden in the most favorable situ- ation, it throws up good, spikes of bloom tire following spring, but after that grad- ually dies out and is lost. The bulbs split • up and deteriorate. The California lilies are difficult to grow in the East, good specinaens rarely being seen in gardens. Some of the In- dian lilies, though magnificent kinds. are not hardy, and can only be grown in pots under. glass. Lilium Aurattun, grown in this manner, maintains its vigor year after year. As the present time is the usual period for planting lilies, a few hints as to those which give the best results in the garden may be acceptable. Among the most satisfactory of hardy lilies are the varieties of Lilium Speciostun, from Japan. This is among the most beautiful of the entire family. The form known ae Rubrum is white, the petals suffused with a rosy tinge and densely spntted with crimson. Album is pure white. These are the common forms, and no garden should be without them, as they thrive in any well -drained soil, and are among the latest flowers of the season. They are imported from Japan direct to this oonntry, and can be purchased at cornparatiely.low prices. Included in this section are other types quite distinct from the forms above described, and of value as garden lilies. L. Testaoeurn is one of the best of these. It has nankeen colored pendent flowers. and attains a height of five feet. It is quite floriferous and thrifty in habit. L. Tenuifolium is a miniature lily with slender stems, 18 inches high. bearing 12 to 20 fiery scarlet flowers. This is a gem in its way and is among the first to bloom. L. Superb= is another of thia family. Thia grows from five to seven feet high, and bears 10 to 20 bright orange -colored llowers, beautifully marbled and spotted with orimeon pnrple. Thie needs a spongy, moist location, and cannot be depended upon to thrive in ordinary garden loca- tions. TREE PLANTING. Trees Increase the Value of Property. -They Are Both Ornamental and Useful. One of the oldest and ablest agricul- tural editors of New England, Mr. S. L. Boardman, gives the following hints on tree planting: Trees for ornament should be beautiful. For while trees gen- eraily are all beautiful, indeed,which clothe and adorn she world of magnifi- cent natural beauty which God has made for the dwelling place of man, it is true that all trees are not sufficiently beauti- ful to be removed from the forese and become adornments of lawns or streets. A tree will give shade in summer lf it is not what nurserymen or foresters would call a specimen tree, but when you are going to set out one it may as well be perfect and beautiful of its kind, as to be an ill -grown, shapeless thing. If a man is going to buy a new hat he wants one in style, and that will become him. Many of us ordinary fellows are more indebted to a new hat or a decent coat for our good appearance than to any individual characteristics which we possess. So a beautiful tree often takes the sight away from a plain house, so that you forget it, andit adds comeliness and symmetry to a little yard or lawn, which but for the tree you would not have noticed. You look at the tree from the topmost spray of its branches played upon by the breeze down its .fine pro- portions of boll, securely fixed in the earth, when lol near its base uprm the lawn behind the fence, Is a bed of bright pansies which you had not before noticed. An imperfectly grown, crooked -trunked tree, half -hipped in the branches, oan never become beautiful by association,' even though the associations he a variety of specimen trees on either side with a fine house for its background. Of its own species or variety, a tree for ornament should be as near perfect as it is poseible to find one in a half -day's hunt through the forests—one embodying the peculiar characteristics of the family to which it belongs, siraight of trunk, symmetrical iu outline and beautiful from any point of view, in surunier or winter. Never set a tree, either for ornament or shade, that you will ever become tired of looking at, for while a (wreaked tree with a dense growth of branches on one side will serve the purpose of shade, it will never serve that of ornament; let one tree represent both elements—that of humble service and queenly beauty. Horticulturna Notes. Turn the plants frequently to prevent their becoming one sided. 'Keep the soil loose by frequent stirrings. Liquid fer- tilieers may be given every week after burls appear. Plants do better where they have plenty of breathing space, therefore, do not crowd them. Put cuttings in small pots. When the pots are filled with roots, remove to those a size larger. Keep repotting until the plants are in as large pots as desired. Most flowering plants • require rather small pots, as they bloom best if root bound. Foliage plants should have an unchecked growth, never becoming root bound. Keep the plants well pinched back all sutnmer, letting no branches get the start of others. Remove all buds which form before November. The site of the orchard having been selected, the next thing in order is to fit the land properly for the planting of the trees. No better preparation of soil can be given than to plant the ground the year previoue to the setting of the trees with corn or potatoes. If ,the ground upon which it is desired to set an orchard is in sod,let it be plowed with eftee that all of tbe sod is well turned over, and let it be harrowed with ,equal care that no pieces of sod be torn to the surface by the harrow where they can grow again, for grass growing in an orohard is a great enemy to all young trees. HANDY FRUIT LADDERS. One Can be Made by Any Carpenter or Blacksmith. As it fruit -grower of over 20 years' standing, a correspondent offers a sug- gestion to the readers of the Journal of Horticulture in the matter of ladders. As shown in the illustrations there are three ladders, each fastened at the top to a triangle made of three-quarter-1mM rod Iron by •single hinges, screwed to the under sides of the ladders. The material consists of a rod of tbree-quarter-inels iron, three feet long, to make the trian- gle. Six pieces of flat bar iron three- quarter -inch wide, with eye or binge made on one end, to be screwed to the under side of each ladder at the top or LADDER. SET UP P0I5 usu, three or four screws. Wood for the ladder eides 1 inch by 2,14 inches of the require* length, rounds of ladder of ash or oak. • The width between the sides nine inches, to allow two feet standing on the some round of the ladder at the same time. The hinges should be slipped onto the triangle, two to eaoh side, before Xi is joined. The ladder may be any length, and for trees up to the ages of ten to fifteen Years they are miteh better than doUble ladders, which must be znade wide at the bottom to give steadiness and where bush fruits are grown under it is dill'. cult to find room for the two legs. A. •single ladder is altogether out of plaoe a young fruit plantation. The sides of the tripple ladder should be parallel—in fact, might be narrower at the bottom if the ladders are wanted for use where there is an undergrowth, thus making it still easier to find a place for the three ladders. In regard to use of these ladders, the writer says: "I have sets from eight te sixteen rounds each, and find that 1 int* by 24 int% deal is quite strong enough for the sides and at that length and weight the ladders are quite portable and easy to be moved, It often hap- pens that two women can gather on one set, when they can readily shift them round the tree; or in the shorter lengthm a woman can freely work a set alone, I SHOWING METHOD Ow JOINING. consider that one woman can gather gut much fruit hy this method as two or more can with single ladders. They are as firm at the top as the ground is, and are not affected by wind. The ladder is not patented, and can be made by any carpenter and blaoksmith. I have had them all lengths in use for 16 years, and use nothing else,on my 40 acres of fruit. • except, as the trees get older, a sing/e ladder for the top. Of course, it will be understood that theY are drawn together for carrying about." Orchard and Gardon. In the fall is the best time to set out rhubarb plants. In buying trees good roots are tbe most important item to lohk after. With raspberries it will pay to renew the planting at least every four years. Sweet potatoes should be dug before there is a bard frost, as they are easily injured. Sort all apples carefully before sending to market. Get the best price for the best fruit In many cases gardening and fruit growing combined can readily be made a praotical business. The quince does best with a shot* trunk, the top branching out a few in- ches from the ground. The arbor vitae or .Norway spruce in one of tlae best varieties of evergreens to plant for wind -break. After the garden crops are harvested plow up the garden and apply a good dressing of well -rotted manure. When quality of fruit is desired the more branohes and top you can make the larger will be the crop of fruit. When garden seeds of any kind are gathered be sure that they are thorough- ly dried out before storing away. The sooner red and blapk raspberries, blackberries, currants and gooseberries are set out the better. Early planting gives a better opportunity to secure a good root growth before winter.—St. Louis Republic. Marking Apples. An apple grower in Western New York sonad years ago decided that be would mark leis apples so that each barrel could be identified wberever it went. To do this he prepared slips of sized paper cut out so as to form his name, which about two or three weeks before picking time, while the apples were coloring. he fast- ened on specimens of fruit, of course shutting the sunlight off • from the por- tions of fruit thus covered. The result was that his name was printed by the sunlight as it colored the fruit, On sev- eral hundred speemens of fruit. One Of these he pladed in the top of each barrel, wrapped in tissue paper, and on the out- side of the barrel he wrote the legend, "Look for the name." As he was careful only to put up good fruit his • brand of "name apples" secured a high reputa- tion, and is now much sought for. uow to Care for Begonias. Begonias love partial shade and amod- erate temperature. They arefound among the best of all for window or conserva- tory eulture—at least, there are few fatnillies of plants that can excel them in this respect. Moreover, they • are et oomparatively easy culture.