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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1897-6-24, Page 6o BY W14C1RM enema! Poor Audine turned pale; she dreaded what was coming, and she put her hands over her face :and cried, "Ob, not to- night, Aunt Mary —not to -eight!" "Do not be childish, Audine, said Mrs. Neville, rather sharply. "I really must call: to yon." Audine withdrew her hands, and look- ing up wistfully said, "Very well." ".Audine," began Mrs. Neville, sol- emnly, "you are no longer a child; you have arrived at an age at which a girl begins to acquire power over tbe happi- ness of others." Audine lowered ber face. "I1y Audine, that power is a gift of. great responsibility. Do you understand mer' ..Yee." "And cannot be too carefully used," went on Mrs. Neville, restlessly twisting her finders together. ' "If a man's whole happiness depends upon a woman, it is a great responsibility for her; if she has encouraged him, the responsibility is much greater, is it nut?" "Yes," again muru:ured Audine. "And you have dune that, my darling; yotu sweat ways and looks have taught Godfrey to love you. It has made me so very happy," she went on, with a trem- bling voice, "for it will make you my own dear little daughter.." But Audine, with a dignity all her own, had drawn back, and was looking at her friend with her clear eyes. "You are mistaken, aunt Mary," she said. "You do not mean what you say.," "I do mean it. I know how very young you are, and I feared that if Godfrey were himself to speak to you first, you would—" "I would answer him as I answer you, aunt Mary." "And how is that, my child? My dear child, can you love him'?'" "Oh no, no." "Then all this time you have been de- ceiving my poor boy, heartless, cruel girl! —leading him on to his own destruction; walking with him, talking to him, and letting islet believe that you saw and val- ued his love." Audine bceame very white, and all her courage fled; she trembled as if caught in a trap. "Oh, aunt Mary, I know nothing of these things; Did I encourage him? What does it mean? Oh, I hope not." "You have taught him to love you as few Hien love; you. have destroyed his fu- ture, ruined his hopes. Oh, Audinel" and Mrs. Neville caught her hands and looked eagerly into her face. "What can I do?" cried the poor child. "Indeed, I did not mean it. I do not love him. I Ugh; hill." Mrs. Neville looked at heti with a look 'almost of hatred in her face; then a groan burst from. her lips, and she said, "Oh, what a fatal thing love for you is, Audinel first Castaletti, and now my. Godfrey" Now Mrs. Neville was terrified at the effect of her words; every trace of color fled from Audine's lips, her eyes became distended. "What!" she gasped. "What did you aaayP" "I said," repeated Mrs. Neville, wildly, '`that the love of you will bo as fatal to Godfrey as it was to Castaletti." "God help mel" cried Audine, with a piteous cry; and she fell forward in a death -like fainting -fit, striikng her head violent,,ly ma the mnarble fender. Greatly torr aed- as she was, Mrs. Neville would. • not ring for help—her work was but half done: idolatrous in her love for her son, to Audine she was pitiless. She laid her on the sofa, bathed her forehead with eau -de -cologne, and sat fanning her eagerly until she opened her eyes. Au - dine looked round her wildly. "Was it love for me? Oh, aunt Mary, was it that that killed him? Did he go from me to that horrrible death?" and she clung to Mrs. Neville, trembling violently. "It was unfortunate," said. Mrs. Ne- ville, with dry lips: "but the effect of love Is overwhehning to some men; it has driven them to all sorts of desperate nodule." -Was it that??" "I will not deceive you, Audine; it may not have been his body that was found the condition of the—" "Oh, stop, stop!" cried. Audine, shud- dering. "How shall I bear it? what can I do?" Mrs. Neville bent towards her, and whispered, in words that sounded almost like a hiss— "Save Godfrey from such a fate." Audine sank back, pressing her hands convulsively over her brow. "Aunt Mary," she cried, "I have no mother!" Mrs. Neville hesitated for one moment, dura'g which the good battled with the eel', ie. her heart; then she said, in a •v' :i: - which the very emotion she - strove e;1 control made very cold- "I would not urge you for the world, Audine; you must act of your own free wilL You shall never say that I influ- enced your decision." "Will you not help nee?" "I cannot; I am too much illtereeted, I am too much terrified when I think of what the result of your refusal might be —it takes away my power ;to help you." Audine rose to her feet panting. "Give sae time to think," she said. "Yes, yes, take time, but do not keep nae too long in suspense; tell me soon, Audine." ""I wilL" "And oh, my dear child," cried Mrs. Neville, following her to the door, "ask no counsellor but your own heart; do not talk to your: nurse about it -promise me." "Very well," said Audine, and she went upstairs. She threw herself on her bed, covering her face with her hands, trying to think; but only one over- whelming thought was with her. "She says it was my doing, my fault• he killed himself for my fatal love! I am ;pithy of his death." Then through the darkness she could fancy she saw the eatyr-like face of Castaletti, always watching her. aer head ached terribly the was unconscious of the blow she had received in falling, and wondered vaguely at the violent pain. A grievous sense of self-pity came over her—she felt as if she had lost all the happiness of her youth, that now she must carry with her a regret and horror tp her dy- Hi...b»r ..I. ing day. What should she do? Then with a thrill almost of bodily pain she remembered Mrs, Neville's words, "Save Godfrey from such a fate." • From such a fate! Would he also die, and for her sake? A terror of herself Dame ovor her: she rose hurriedly fromher bed and lit the candles; she glanced at herself in the glass, and was startled by the white face she saw with bloodless Ups and 'dis- tended eyes. She hastily smoothed her hair and went swiftly along the passage to Burns's room, where her old nurse was sitting half asleep, waiting for her young mistress's. bell. Audine put a strong restraint upon herself ; the strength of her feeling .made her act well; but had Burns been fully awake, she could .not have been deceived in her child. "Burnie," said Audine, leaning on the back of her chair, "I have been read- ing a very strange novel; it has made ince nervous. The rejected lover killed Himself. Tell me, Burnie, do such things happen in real life?" "My dear, I have often told you not to go reading those sorts of nonsense before going to bed. Lovers indeed!" "Do they ever in real life?" "I never knew but one fret much, Miss Audine, and scores of others who mar- ried another woman within a year." "And that one case?" faltered Audine. "It was a pceuliar one, my dear. The girl was a neighbor of ours at home, Hester Brown, and very pretty, and she led him on to think she liked him above a kbit, and then made a fool of him at last. He was not over -wise, poor lad, and be went quietly away to the river. He might have fallen in—perhaps he did— but all the neighbors put it down to her score."- "Oh, core."."Oh, Burniel'' Burns jumnped up at the tone of her voice. "What is it, my child?what is it?" "Do not keep sae—let me go; I must go down stairs." "My dear, youhad much better come to bed.r "No, no—lot me go," and Audine broke from her detaining hands and ran downstairs, Mrs. Neville was still in the drawing - room, but the lights wore all put out save one hand -candle and the remains of the fire. Audine went swiftly up to her. "I am Dome," she said. "Aud you consent, my Audine, my child?" "Yes." "You will bo my Godfrey's wife, the joy and happiness of us all?" ,Yes." "Let me kiss you, Audine, How happy you have made me, you litttle /mow." But Audine recoiled from her touch. At that moment the hall -door opened with a latch -key; some one came in— they could hear his footsteps - "Is that Castaletti?" said Audine, sud- denly. "Audine, you are dreaming! It is God- -:, BUT AUDINB RECOILED FROM 13ER TOUCH. trey. Wait here, my darling; I will send him to you." Anel she left the room. Audine retreated into the very farthest corner, pressing back against the wall with her hands clasped on her breast, and waited. One moment—it seemed an hour—and Godfrey came in. "Is it true, Audine? Does my mother say truth indeed?" "Yes." Again that fatal word. "And you will be all my own, my dar- ling—the light of my life?" Audine could bear no more; and when he would fain have poured. out to her all the love of his heart she tore herself fropi his hands, and fled from him in terror too great for words. Godfrey and his mother sat up late that night, talking in eager tones. CHAPTER XII. When the Nevilles met at breakfast on the following morning, Audine did not appear. More than an hour passed, and Mrs. Neville became uneasy at her ab- sence. At last she got up, left off pre- tending to eat her breakfast, and went upstairs to see what made Audine so late. At the door of her room Mrs. Burns met her, looking exceedingly stiff and se- vere. "I think you had better not go in, ma'am," she said, very coldly. "Miss Audine has bee;, very ill all flight." "111! Have you sent for the doctor?" "I have taken that liberty, ma'am. In- deed you had better not go in till he eomes. " "Why did you not come for me?" said. Mrs. Neville. "It was very wrong of you." At this moment Audine called out, in a high clear voice, "Aunt Mary" And Mrs. Neville pushed past the nurse, and went in. The young girl was sitting up in bed, all her long brown hair floating behind her; and she was speaking in a very rapid, confused way. She caught hold of Mrs. Neville's hands. "Nothing, nothing can save him," she said. "They are going to throw him down the shaft; and all the neighbors blame me, and say it was love for •me that killed him. Oh, George, George! I wishhe would not watch me so." She clung suddenly to Mrs. Neville. "He, watches me, half crouching down; and I know heis there even when I am asleep, and he says such strange things, The White Queen! Godfrey has a bride al- ready. Who said that? And why didhe tell me? What is Godfrey's bride to me? Thera is no perfootion like his bride, He is hers, all hers. He is mad, and have given himself to her. What did he mean? and. then he went away, poor -soul, to the riverside. Sing willow, willow, all the green willow. What is that?" Sr saddeally- aka started, assal latah into vacancy, that anintenseterror seized them,. " There 1 there! there! What is it? Who is it? Is it dead, or cines it etal m2ye1' .Will no one tell me whe it is? Oh, heaven! is it Godfrey or that other?" All day the delirium increased. The doctor, when he saw her, sent away his carriage, and refused to leave her side. "She must have had some terrible shook," he said to Mrs. Neville. And the poor woman wept tears of bitter grief and remorse. All day getting worse and worse, Audine's voice, that used to bo so soft and sweet, grew so loud and wild that no ono, oould have 'recognized the sound. Now she would implore Mrs. Ne - villa to help her—to save her from her fate; then call her brother till the house semed to ring with his name. But one ever-present horror seemed to haunt her --Castaletti's face watching her; and sometimes, in her struggles; to escape' from it, it required all Mrs. Neville's and Burns's united strength to keep her in bed. So the long days came to an end one after another, and brought no. relief. All day Godfrey wandered about in aimless misery. He would sit down and endeavor to read, then spring up and pace the room, or sit with his face hidden, every sense sharpened to hear sounds from' the sick -room. Then, for hotus together, he would wait on the stairs, till the sound of that beloved voice, never ceasing, never changing in its unnatural tone, became more than he could bear; and he would dash away out of the house—any- where—to ouse—any-where— to escape. In the evening his mother would come down to hu.; but she was changed. She seemed as if she could hardly bear to meet his 'eye; rind she would give her hopeless news with- out any softening words, and go back as quickly as she could. And the days passed on. Then came a letter from Colonel Fitz- james; he was on his way—would be here in a few days. In anguish, the thought suggested itself to all those watchers,would he be in time? The doc- tors oetors spoke of a strangely depressed ner- vous system, aggravated by the violent blow on the head which she had received which had produced this terrible brain - fever. At last --:it was in the dead of night— her voice died suddenly away, and was succeeded by so awful and profound a stillness that they kuew not how to bear it. When morning dawned they said she was just alive, that was all: the heart still beat, the faint breath still dimmed the mirror, but all hope was over—the exhaustion seemed beyond remedies, God- frey stood outside her door, listening to the softest.movenrent within. At last they set the door wide open, and he stole in. They were all standing motionless round her, watching the ivory white of her cheek, the half -shut eyes, the half-closed lips, The doctor bent suddenly down, and put his hand on ber heart. Mrs. Neville gave him one wild look, and he shook his head sorrowfully. God- frey saw, and could bear no more; he turned and rushed downstairs—down into the room in which he had last seen her, and ho leant against the wall against which she had leant when he had held her hands and for ono short second prescod her to his heart. His mother fol- lowed him, gold as ice, with burning color on her oheeks, "She is dead, Godfrey," she said, in a voice But of which all tho tone had gone —"she is dead, and I have killed her."' Godfrey grasped her arm. "Speak, woman, what do you mean?" "I deoieved her and you. Oh, Godfrey, be merciful!" "Then it not true? She did not love me!" "Godfrey!" "It is not true! you have broken our hearts, and betrayed us both by a lie." "Godfrey!" But he threw her from him, and was gone—gone before she could hold him fast, and had left her alone in her bitter woe, Meanwhile quick steps had mounted the stairs—steps that had not been there for many a day -and had gone straight to Audine's room.. "They told me I was too late," cried Colonel Fitzjames; his voice sounded strangely loud, and they all drew back, and allowed him to approach and kneel beside her. "Oh, my God, I am not too late! An dine! my darling, my precious one, look up! Audine!" Did that voice really bring her back from the grave? Were their prayers keep- ing her with them? A moment, a few seconds more, and the pure spirit would have returned to God who gave it. But no; from the shore of the dark river the angels brought her back, once more to take up the burden and heat of the day. A little quiver of the eyelid, not more than the effect of tie softest breath of air passing over the petals of a flower—they watched in breathless anxiety -then over her lips came a smile of ineffable sweet- ness; the angels wore bidding her fare well, were winging their way home again and leaving her behind. The doctor put brandy to her lips— thank God, she swallowed that!—than her head fell back and her oyes closed. In terror Colonel Fitzjames bent down "No, no," said the old doctor, uncon- sciously using Bible words, "she is not dead, but sleopeth." The hush of the house was unbroken: no one moved but to give her what was needful—they hardly dared to breathe. When Audine again opened her eyes, they rested on her brother with such a look of trust and peace that the tears fell fast from his own, and his whole soul went up to God in passionate thankful- ness that he had spared to him the be- loved eloved sister, who was to him as dear as his own child would have been, CHAPTER XTTT, Mrs. Neville confessed all. She strove neither to conceal anything nor to sheltox herself from blame, but told all -her reason for so passionate a wish that Au- dine should marry her son, and the fatal deceit she had practised to bring it about. At first Colonel Fitzjames could not for- give it: his first words were bitter re- proaches; but inthe thanlduluess of watching the daily change and improve- ment in his Audine, he gradually began to resume his old inasmor with her, and she felt herself pardoned by him. But she could not forgive herself, and the bitter pain of that time was increased tenfold by Godfrey's disappearance. Whom he rushed out of the house believing Au - dine to be dead, ho had never returned; and all she knew was that by her wish, Girwood was wandering from place to place seeking' him: She dared not think of what his state of mind. might be. Audine's roeovery was very slow. Long after the fever left her she was very nervous, and would bo constantly en- treating her brother to assure her over and over again that Oastaletti's death had nothing to do with her. She would wake up in the night iee an agony: qi • terror, and nothing would calm her but his presence; and it was many weeks be- fore she grew strong enough to battle with this dread,., ; and . overcome it and they feared it would take years Before Mrs. Neville's fatal words would' vanish from her mind. CTo be continued.) A CALL TO BATTLE. ' Dr. DeWitt Talmage ;ends. Ont a Ringing Bugle Blast. It seems 50 me that it is about time for the 17,000,000 professors of religion in America to take sides. It is going to'be an out and out battle tetweeu clrunkennas and sobriety, bo-. tweeze Heaven and hell between God and the devil. Take sides before there Is any further national decadence, takes. sides before your sons are sacrificed and the homes of your daughters go down under the al- coholism of imbruted husbands.. If the 17,000,000 professors of religion should take sides on- this' subject, it would not be veryy long before the destiny of this nation would be decided in the right direction. I tell you what any of you may never have thought •of—that to -day, not its the miliennitun .but to-day—the church holds the balance of power in America and if Christian people, the men and women who profess to love the Lord Jesus Christ, and to love and to be the sworn enemies of all uncleanli- ness and debauchery enol sin, if all such would march side by side and shoulder to shoulder, this evil would soon be over- thrown. Think of 30,000 churches and Sunday schools in ohristendom marching shoulder to shoulder! How very short a time it would take them to put down this evil if all the churches of dod, trans-Atlantio and cis- Atlentic, were armed on this subject. What a hell on earth a woman lives in who has a drunken husband! Oh death, how lovely thou art to her, and how soft and warm thy skeleton handl The sepulcher at midnight in winter is a king's drawing room compared with that woman's home. It is not so much the blow on the head that hurts as the blow on the heart. The rum fiend came to the door of that beautiful home and opened the door and stood there and said:— "I curse this dwelling with unrelent- ing curses." "I curse that father into a maniao," "I nurse that mother into a pauper." "I curse those sons into vagabonds." "I curse those daughters into profli- gacy." Cursed be bread tray and cradle." "Cursed be couch and chair and family Bible with records of marriages and births and deaths." "Curse upon curse.'' Oh, how many wives there are waiting to see if something cannot be done to shake these frosts of the second death off the orange blossoms. Yea, God is waiting—the God who works through human instrumeutalities —waiting to see if this nation is going to overthrow this evil, and if it refuse to do so God will wipe out the nation as he did Phoenicia, as he did Rome, as he did Thebes, as he did Babylon. Aye, He is waiting to see what the church of God -will do. If the church will not do its work, then He will wipe it out as He did the church of Ephesus, the ohuroh of Thy- atira, the ohuroh of Sardis. The Protestant and Roman Catholic churches to -day stand side by side with an impotent look, gazing on this evil, which costs this country more than $1,- 000,000,000 a year to take care of the 800,000 paupers and 315,000 criminals and the 800,000 idiots, and to bury the 75,000 drunkards. All on Account of the Wheel. The bicycle sundry business has reaohed vast proportions. Every article needed by the wheelman, and some that he'll never need, is the subject of fierce competition. The competition not only covers the manufacturer; but extends to the retail dealer as well. Bicycle sundries oan be found in all sorts of unexpeoted places. Some of the dry goods people make a specialty of them, and there are many other concerns that carry them as they would any prime necessity. Of course all this makes competition fast and furious at the regular bicycle stores. Here is an illustration of the way the thing some- times goes':— An eagle eyed customer walked into a Euclid avenue wheel depot last Saturday evening and asked to look at locks. He was shown a lock and chain and inquired the price. The proprietor had sized him up and was determined to make a sale, even if he sacrificed profits to do it. "Ten cents," he replied. A smile of ineffable contempt name over the customer's classic features. He held the look to the light and viewed it at every possible angle. Then he handed it back to the proprie- tor. . 'Tain't worth nlore'n a nickel," he remarked. The proprietor looked at him in sor- row. "If I had known with whom I was dealing," he plaintively remarked, "I wouldn't have put up the price on you. Here, take it as a gift." And the customer, with a gratified smirk creeping around the corners of his finely chiseled mouth, pocketed the look and weut out into the night.—Cleveland: Plein Dealer. - Sow Education Helps. "One er de reasons," said uncle Eben, "why er education ho'ps er young man along in life is dat gittin ruin de fns' place compels 'im ter gib used ter hah'd work."—Washington Star, Ought to .snow. Teacher— What makes, you insist, Willie, that 14 ounces snake a pound? Willie—I've helped pap 'tend grocery for two years, an.i guess 1 orter know.— Detroit Free Press. At. the Duel. "Courage, dear friend! Trynot to trem- ble so." - "Oh, but if you knew how .I suffer for fear I may kill my antagonist!"—La Cari- cature. At Graduation Time. He --Who .gets the honors of the class this year? She—That stupid Ida Gotrox. , Her gown cost $200.—New York Sunday Jour- nal. Beeping Up Appearances. Little Ethel -Papa; what are we board- ing up our front windows for? Mr. De Broke—.A bluff, zny child.—New York Sunday Journal. SHROPSHIRES. This Fine Old Farmiy St111 'Holds Its Owr wen. Both oast and west of the Alleghanict the Shropshire is a great favorite, For the general farmer, who wishes both wool and mutton and who has no tiuw or inclination to coddle his sheep, but oT �i %: . SUROPSUIRE RADS. lets them depend, for their living on pasture as much as possible, there is no better breed than the Shropshire. One of the finest Shropshire rams im- ported iu recent years is, shown in the picture. He is owned upon a model farm in New York; The pretty yearling Shropshire ewe whose likeness here appears is of native American blood and is from beyond the Mississippi. ' Her coat is of that dense texture which is impervious to ordinary storms. This density of fleeco is one of the qualities which makes the Shrop TOm%=sorsWIIB EWE. shire so hardy. The Shropshires are of the larger mutton breeds, their wool be- longing to the medium length class. With their snow white fleeces, their faces, ears and legs coal bleak, their broad, straight backs and heavy quar- tors, these sheep are both useful and ornamental. The lambs bring a high price in tho market. A tuft of white wool grows low down upon the black nose of the real Shropshire. The Best Selling Draft Horses. Mr. J. • S. Cooper, the well known seller of horses, says: "In years past—in fact, for a quarter of a century --I have unswervingly ad- vocated the Pereheron as the best and truest type as well as the best selling draft horse. On general principles I see no reason to change this opinion, but the duty of a commission man is not unlike that of a newspaper—to gauge public opinion, ascertain its wants and conform to the general require- ments so long as it is for the greatest good of the greatest number. The for- eign demand in our market, now amounting to 25,000 annually and growing yearly, is so important that its interests demand and deserve careful consideration, and we find this year for the first time that all of the Euglish and Scotch buyers are not only partial to Clydes and shires, but give all pref- erence to those breeds, and, all other things being equal, will give $10 a head more for them than any other and will in many cases pass by and alto- gether reject a much better Norman. While this is true of the Scot and Eng- lishman, the German, who is a large buyer of 1,450 to 1,600 pound blocks, always gives preference to the Perehe- ron. The situation is therefore a little complicated, aucl if the American buy- ers did not throw the weight of their influence to the Pereheron, which they do to a mau, honors would be nearly even as between the Englishman on the one hand and the German on the other. Domestic buyers as a rule dislike the hairy legged Clyde, and, except in the case of an extraordinarily good one, will' not buy them under any circumstances. To those who will produce either of three glasses—a gentleman's driver of good size, with more or less speed, a coacher of size and superb action and a draft horse to weigh not less than 1,700 pounds—the opportunity to reap a rich reward was never, I fancy, better than in the near future." Foot Rot.: We commenced salting our sheep by placing in the pasture a couple of bar- rels of salt with small holes out in their sides and spread lime around the bar- rels,. and did nothing more than renew the lime a couple of times. We cured several hundred head of sheep some years ago and have had no trouble since, and have had the neighbors to use it with the same success. I would only be glad to get a chance to buy foot rot sheep at what I thought they were worth when my sheep were ailing.—. Exchange. warts. A correspondent wishes to know re- garding castor oil for warts. I always use it to remove warts. It is a slow but. sure remedy and acts without pain.. But he must be surd to get the pure ar- ticle, not that which is used for carriage oil. Apply once a day or wet the wart all over, and in time it will commence to peel off, and the parts Will all hair over and leave no trace of the wart.- G. N. D. in Rural New Yorker. The interstate commerce law forbids the shipment of animals having any form of contagious disease. Let the bur•oan of animal industry see that the law is executed totheletter. HACKNEY -TROTTER CROSS. Profitable Driving Horse For the Small IBreeclee to Raise. An enthusiastic horseman writes: When the get of Matchless' of Londes- borough out of thoroughbred and trot- ting mares were led into the sale ring, the average received for the lot was $1,000, I do plead guilty as to being in love with that kind. My liking for the hackney has been because, through the use of the blood, I saw the shortest and surest way 50 produce the highest type of handsome carriage and park horses. The . cross of the trotter and the hackney tones down the excessive action and overweight of flesh in the .haokney and gives more size, substance and action to the trot- ter. In short, it produces almost with uniformity just the type of horse that is now in great demand. That we can produce this same type from our trot- ting families I firmly believe, and I think the sooner we set about doing it the better. .It takes time to fix any type in breeding, and certainly we have no trotting family or union of families at present that are producing this type with anything like uniformity. The quickest way to get a family of horses similar to the hackney is to mate large, handsome, compact mares hav- ing pure trotting action with stallions having the same qualities. The first . crosses will probably show many results deficient or perhaps entirely lacking in the desired qualities, but every intell gent cross added win reduce this num- ber, and in time we shall have a type that will breed astrue as the English . haokney. More than that, we shall have' a type in every way superior, for the alert, springy action of the trotter has no counterpart in the English horse. As for myself, I think no pleasure equipage equals a pair of trotters and a top wagon, and no doubt the majority of readers agree with me, but those that live in the pity and are forced to ride over pavements and macadamized roads or drives find little comfort in speed and are forced to look for more solid style. Such want a heavier vehicle and a horse Suited to draw it, and this class are far in the majority. Horses bred. for extreme speed will not supply.the needs of this class of buyers. N I. believe the small breeder that can- not afford to employ a first class trainer —and any other is dear at any price— Will find it more profitable to breed largo, handsome road or driving horses, getting all the speed be can after he has made sure of size, beauty and high, pure trotting action. When be has se- cured the size, beauty and action, the speed will be found the most available quality the breeder is seeking, but rare- ly indeed will it bo found in connection with the other needed qualities. A Lamb Creep. The lamb creep has not been in gen- eral use among sheep owners of the United States. To a largo army of sheep owners it is an unknown device. .� Many would, not adopt its use .if they did know. .A few would not employ it if they knew it would make money for them. The lamb oreep is a lot or an apartment so constructed that the lambs oan creep through and have a quiet meal to themselves, undisturbed by old- er and larger sheep. Some sheep owners construct it in such a way as to adjust the creep boles 1?y baying rollers 4noye and at the sides of the oreep, and thb wool will not be rubbed off. I do not do anything of the kind. I snake a se- ries of hurdles with a creep hole at each. end of the hurdle 0 inches wide and about 80 inches high. An adult sheep that can get through this hole needs more feed or something else. Feed is employed in the barn in a self feeder, but when the creeps are removed to the pasture they are supplied twice daily with the ration. Lambs that have ac- cess to lamb creeps will mature earlier, grow larger and become better sheep than those without this advantage. In the use of hurdles for sheep I never al- low any one to nail them up. Wool twine is brought into play for fastening hurdles. They can be held to place by twine, and a good knife or a pair of shears, which is almost always at hand, will out the twine when they are to be taken away, and new twine will make them fast again. Try the creep one sea- son if you have not done so, and see if you do not like it.—G. W. F. in Nation- al Stockman. Live Stock Points. Montana is going to keep sheep soab, swine plague and cattle disease out of her borders henceforth if it is possible to do so, and Montana is exactly right. All stook bulls brought into the state must be accompanied by a certificate that they are free from disease and that they have been inooulated with tuber- culin. No southern cattle can be taken into the state between March 1 and Nov. 1. All hogs taken into the state must have the certificate of health and transportation companies must keep cars and pens perfectly disinfected un- der rigid inspection. Hogs, ou entering the state, must be quarantined 15 days. Wherever swine die of the plague, they /oust be at once cremated. Regulations against the spread of sheep scab were strictly enforced a year ago, and now Montana sheep are believed to be free from it. In enforcing these regulations, Montana has read a lesson to the other states and set an example they ought to follow. If they would, all kinds of in- fectious diseases would soon be wiped out among live stook. The United States agricultural 1 de- partment will take . striot measures !, against sheep soab, 'wherever found. It ; ishigh time. Breed for fall pigs in June. The thoroughbred horse Tycho Brahe, 15 hands high, in clearing abar,; made a" jump of 7 feet eg inches. ` Glen Noble remarks in The Breeder's Gazette, "It is a good business to quit spending money for so called cures and preventives and spend more for brooms, shovels, brushes and 'muscle to secure• thoroutcbloing cleanliness."