The Exeter Advocate, 1899-1-27, Page 6I•I
FEEDING THE BEES.
fawn, to alike Good Feeders That ]Iay
Come handy Next Spring.
.A good beekeeper w ill try to manage
Matters so there will he no need of his
feeding his bees. But sometimes it hap-
pens that he cannot help himself. He
must feed the bees or they will starve.
A season may be so poor that not only
will the bees yield no surplus, but they
will not gather enough stores to keep
them over winter. Some people eaa
y,
"If the bees cannot get their own lie-
irtg, let them starve." This is Dot the
policy of that very practical beemau
Dr. G. 0. griller, who .says in The Na-
tiotlat Stockman:
.A large quantity of honey is need in
rearing brood in spring. It takes a good
TU 31aa1.ER REF }'E p it,
lift of experience to realize time. So
times It .:zppene afttr fruit Wont
over and just hfere olnver gets 60
yieleling that white remains of young
leaRa willbat.:
nl lying n frontut of the
>bi;vem drag,ite l there .by the t,e. e That
Means that tee point of starvation is
reached, tie re 1a.# not enough food for
loth y ouur cued old, the queen has stop.
ped laying and the juices are sacked
out of the young bees to keep alive the
older totes. ;end the slaughtered inno-
wants are just the ones that are needed.
to help st..m' tee nppreeeb1ng harve t.
13y all means tbay should be saved,
even if stavear.tl primes must be paid for
honey to feed thein. So be eonetautly
on the leolcout amainst Starvation. The
only way to fel >1 sure about the matter
le to look and tem that each colony has
an ve.trai supply. gird then, when you
think they betvi'n't yet had time to use
the half of it, to look again.
i Suppose stores are lacking, what 0111111
be fed? There's probably nothing better
In all the world than a geed comb of
honey. .incl he is a wise beekeeper who
has en hand some extra combs filled
solid full of sealed honey. In too many
oases it will happen that no combs of
honey can be had. The next best thing
ie to feed granulated sugar. That's bet -
i, ter than any other kind of sugar, and
in the long run perhaps the cheapest.
Sow Omit it be fed? There are a good
many ways, some of which may be glee
' en at another time, but for the present
it may be sufficient to mention one of
the feeders must suited for feeding ei-
ther large or small quautities, but es-
peoialiy for the rapid feeding of large
gnanti ties.
The Miller feeder is shown in the ac-
companying illustration. You ann make
one yourself if you are something of a
mechanic. In the picture one end is cut
away so you can see the mechanism. In
the center is a place where the bees can
get up. Then, when they get np, they
can go down on either side into the
feed. If they could get right into the
full dish of feed, they'd drown by the
'wholesale. But in this case there's on-
ly a narrow place where they can go,
so that they can promptly climb up ei-
ther side if they do fall in, for the
partition board that goes down into the
box in each side goes so near the bot-
tom that no bee can get through; only
the feed can leak through. The large
open space that you see on each side in
the picture will hold the feed, but no
bee will ever get into it unless it flies
in from the outside when you have the
cover oft'.
Ilow to Tie a Kicking Cow.
In faroff -Korea the people eschew
milk, abhor batter and are nauseated
by the odor of
cheese, and yet
they know bow
to tie a kicking
cow. A subscrib-
er at Won San
sends to T h e
Farm Journal
t be illustration mem—,
of their method,
given herewith. wwwwd'' 'n'
Ahalf inch rope, et' •
12 or 16 feet
long, is thrown a >txcta cow.
over the back in front of the hips, the
ands brought through between the legs
trom, the- front, both ends brought
around the right leg and passed through
the legs again over the strands that
some down from the back, and the ends
taste:, ed to a stake firmly. driven in the
around a foot or more from the animal.
irmUsstc ?acid In Wild Cherry Leaves.
I There is a popular opinion that the
leaves of the wild cherry are poisonous
only when out and in the wilted condi-
tion ;
ondi-tion; that cattle may safely nibble
them from tbe growing shrub without
danger of injury, and that they, are
quite harmless when dried. Observa-
tions at the New Hampshire station
ppeai to show however, that the fresh-
ly cut leaves yield nearly as much as
the wilted ones do when calculated on
Oho vveigbt'of fresh material taken.
; Tim leaves of the wild black Cherry
are the most poisonous of three species
Investigated, though al] are dangerous.
Both the wilted and fresh leaves are
poisonous, while the dried are to be're-
garded with suspicion.
Vigorous, succulent leaves 'from
young shoots,: whioh are the ones most
ffikle to be eaten by cattle, are far more
poisonous than the leaves from a ma-
ture tree er otunted shrub.
NATURAL SIZE..
^
aon't MaI a theMistal1e of Getting
Birds Too Big.
We were sbowu a letter the other
day, says Farin Poultry, in whioh the
writer inquired about oockerels "that
give promise of making overweight
cooks. I most get the weight of lay
birds up a little, as the majority of buy-
ers want heavy weights," and not long
ago we saw a letter from a party who
wanted a White Wyandotte cockerel
that weighed 8?,ae pounds, which is the
standard weight of Wbite Wyandotte
cocks, and a full pound above the stand-
ard weigbt for cockerel&
We believe the desire for "heavy
]weights" (or overweight birds) is an
error aud shoutbe
n discouraged,
dIn
getting the overweight we et big,
aoaxse framed, rangy birds that aro slow
maturing and make sluggish laying
birds and are poor property generally.
Take the first Casa as an example. The
writer of that letter bas been breeding
for eggs for several years, And has built
pp a strain of Barred Plymouth Rocks
that lay 180 eggs apiece within a year
of reaching laying maturity. In doing
that he finds that bis birds lawre fallen
off a fraction in size, which is perfectly
natural, beeauce it is the generally
"fine" type of bird that is the great
layer. Will not he be better ole if he
preserves the great laying Characterie.
tics of his meek, even if they are off a
fraction in size, than to breed back to-
ward the big, coarse, rangy type, and so
sacrifice the great laying qualities of hie
stock? We believe so,
The Barred Plymouth Rock fowl of
standard weigbt is a little above the
popular market size, The standard
weight for the Nene is dee pounds,
and a fowl that dresses 6 to a?- pouncle
sills quickest, the average buyer giving
the preference, otbertbings being equal,
to birds that weigh 10 to 11 pounds to
the pair; hence PlymouthRocks can be
off in size and be the better market bird.
If by being a fraction off in size we get
the line honed and fine bodied birdthat
is the great layer, there is a very sub-
stantial gain to her credit.
There is still another point to be con-
sidered, and haat is that the big, coarse
Writs carry a considerably greater pro-
portiou of waste (bone frame) to meat,
and the shrewd buyer appreciates tbat
fact. We don't eat the bones of n fowl.
It is the meat we buy them for, and the
"due" boned birds are worth more per
pound than the big boiled, "coarse"
birds because they Carry more meat in
proportion to bone. This fact should be
better understood, and as the fine boned
type of bird is the better layer and bet-
ter for market that is the type of bird
to breed.
Curs of Poultry.
The unsanitary condition of the poul-
try house often allows serione diseases
to spread auaoug the fowls, and for this
reason, if for no other, the buildings,
nests and yards should be kept as olean
as possible. The droppings should be
removed from the houses every day, and
to facilitate the work there should be
no unnecessary fixtures. The roosting
boards should be two feet from the floor
and placed so that they may be removed
easily. In any own poultry house I have
slots at either side, in which the ends
of the roosting boards rest. One objec-
tion to this arrangement is that the
slots may harbor lice, but if kerosene
or lime is applied plentifully the lice
will cause no trouble. Bach day, when
I have removed the droppings from the
houses, I scatter lime or ashes on the
floor, roosts, eta. The houses should
frequently be whitewashed inside and
outside, fresh straw placed in the nests,
and that which is removed burned or
plaoed on the manure heap. In winter
a shed of any desired size, ander whicb
the fowls may be fed in stormy weath-
er, is a necessity. To obtain the best re-
sults in egg production some green food
must be provided. Cabbage and beets
are inexpensive and give good results.
—Nat 5. Green in Land and a Living.
Wisdom In Selection"
What selection can do for a flock is
shown by the experience of Wyokoff of
New York state, who by selecting the
best layers among his flock of Leghorns
for several years got his whole flock of
600 up to an average of 198 eggs per
hen a year. This is an extremely high
average for so many hens on one farm.
It means better than an egg -every other
day for every hetrthe year round. Not
only in spring and summer, but through
the molting season, through the dead
of winter and through the times which
bens naturally take for sitting or for
raising their brood, even for a small
nook, the record wonld be unusually
good. No amount of care with ordinary
fowls would make them do as well on
a large scale: Here is an object lesson
whioh tends to show that breeding and
selection will yet do for hens what the
same agenoies hale done for other kinds
of live stook. -Massachusetts Plough-
man.
What Poultry Manure Will Do.
Marcus M. Wood of.Webster, Mass.,
sends OF a copy of the Webster Times
containing a mention of a mammoth
Valparaiso squash grown by him, and
now on exhibition in a store in Web-
ster. The squash measures 6 feet 5}e,
incbes in circumference and weighs 116
pounds, Mr. Wood writes: "Hundreds
came to see the squash in my field, and
in the store window it attracts crowds.
I have another which weighs 75 pounds,
and many' slightly smaller. My garden
is a wonder in fertility, and no fertilizer
has been used on it in the past four
years excepting the manure from about
150 hens. 'Ibis year I had seven one
horse loads.
Time and skill,
The reason why the poultry bneinees
will never be overdone is that only a
amall per cent of those who undertake
it have a just appreciation of tbe de -
mantis on their time, skill and atten-
tion, or are willing to confine them-
selves to feeding 865 days every year.
ei Maine Farmer;
BTYJ TVO LOVES.
BY BERTHA N. C1I B R.
(Continued.)
So, let her speak to whom, slue would,
she heard the same story. She ben in
to perceive there wastruth in it. The
time was conning when .she must give up
her glorious; nnrestriceted freedom, aril
lee= to obey the wishes of another- She
resolved upon one thing; age would
obey when she was nea;vied---she would
learn to yield to her husband; but be-
fore that time came, she would enjoy
her freedom to its utmost extent, Sae
would, in everything, in every re.:peet.
and in every particular. have ber own
gay.
"It the h
ie a
est time e o!
Pi my life,
snd I intend to enjoy it," said Lady
May to herself, and her notion of en-
joyment was like that et rnaany other
ladles -4 consists in a series of triumphs
!ver her lover, If she must obey site:
marriage, ebg would, at leest, command
!cefore; and Sir Clinton found that he
had full occupation in obeying the
wishes and whims of his lady -lave.,
then; with it ail, she was so fait in
Ger sweet impetiontsness, that he could
sot resist ter. Some men would have
test their paitte tee: there were times
when bis was sore'y taxed, yet it so
aappened that, atter every whim and
!very caprice, be Laved fuer still better.
She wounded with one white bawd, and
tealed with the outer.
"Sblil YOU gay to Indy Browniawr"k
ball?" tasked: Sir Clinton, one nlornlug.
They were riding together, and he saw
new people turned with admiring gaze
to leak after the lovely faee and matela-
leas figure.
""I do not care much about it," slue
replied, carelessly. "Lady Browning is
no great favorite of mine."
'"1 am comps"fled to go,1', he Cortina'
ed, "I met Lord Browning yesterday,
thin he would not release me until X
had promised,
'Then, if you go, I shall go," site
mid, with a senile that seemed to her
lover brighter then the fairest gleam of
elle:thine; a eoncession that charmed
and delighted him so greatly, it was
with difficulty he refrained from giving
intim proof of bis laappiness-
"Ale May, rn.E Proud, peeilless Mel',
if yon would speak to me a little often-
er after that fashion, I should be the
karg est emu in the world."
She went to the ball--thet was the
ranee; the other Mand wounded. While
there she waltzed again with Count
Seidenf, and seemed thoroughly to ea -
joy it.
He was very angry, hurt, annoyed,
grieved that she showed so little defer-
ence to his wishes. He found au op-
portuuity that same evening of saying
so,. The night was warm, and Lady
May, with many others, Bought the
cool, fragrant conservatories, where the
lamps gleamed with asett, mellow light
through the sweet -scented flowers; t e e
Sir Clinton found her. She was quite
alone, and he stood for a few minutes
Met in admiration of the loveliest pie.
tare he had ever ween. The background
was formed by flowers and green les.ves.
Lady May, with her golden hair, jewels
shining on her white breast and oirol
Mg her rounded arms—her dress of zilch
white lace falling around her—was some-.
thing wonderful; her beautiful face wore
an expression of unusual thought.
"May," said Sir Clinton, "do you not
think you are very unkind to me? I
ask you as a particular favor, an es-
pecial grace, not to do a certain thing,
and you seem to take an especial de-
light in doing it."
She laughed that sweet, low laugh of
hers, that stirred the blood in his veins,
and made his heart beat.
"I must own," she said, with frank
Impudence, " that there Is a certain
charm in doing what one has been
wished not to do."
"I think, dear," be said, gently, ethaat
If you loved me you would think more
of my wishes, and try, at least, to !ul-
611 them."
There was a sound of pain in his
voice that mode her look up quickly-
he saw such deep, mute reproach in
his eyes that her heart was touched;
the pretty white flowers fell from her
hands. She rose quickly, and going to
him, laid her white, soft hand in his.
"I came because you came, Clinton—
only for the pleasure of being with you;
do not let us • quarrel, now that I am
here."
The words were simple, but the smile
that went with them was so sweet; the
lingering touches of the white fingers'
thrilled him with such heppiness as he
had never known before. How could
he do anything but worship her, so sweet
and winsome, even while she was
capricious and imperious?
So, between sunshine and shade, be-
tween the fever of love and the fire of
Jealousy, time passed until the g>rerlt
event of the season carne off—tine private
theatricals of the Countess of Swan -
down. Every one has a mania; Lady
Swandown's was for private theatricals.
Every pretty girl, every handsome man,
possessed of a grain of intelligence, was
pressed into the service. Lady Swan -
down's charades, tableau-vivants, and
private theatricals, were one of the
events of the season. To the great an-
noyance of the countess, this yetur a
rival had • appeared in her espeoial
branch of party -giving --a pretty brunet-
te, Mrs. Dunbar, the wife of a fax -
famed millionaire, who enjoyed showing
herr pretty, piquant face and beautiful
figure in every variety of costume.
Lady Swandown's indignation was
great to think that any one should seek
to rival her. She determined to put
forth her strongest effort, and give such
an entertainment us would effectually
crush her opponent- ' 7o make this sue -
cess, she must ,of course, first and fore-
most, secure the beautiful young heir-
ess,
eiress, Lady May Trevlyn.
Without her, she knew well the whole
affair would be a terrible failure. C"::/
pie went to parties quite as often from
a desire to see the lovely Lady May as
from any other. motive, Lady Swan -
down was half alarmed; she had heard
vogue rumors that Sir Clinton did not
tare for these exhibitions, that he had
expressed some very strong opinions on
the point; what if he should interfere --
should try to influence Lady May, and
prevent her from coming? It was too
terrible to be thought of. Full of an-
xiety, the countess drove oft? to Cliffe
House, and found the young heiress at
lease and alone.
"How fortuns,, am, Lady May;
you are always so surrounded with v'si-
tors that it is quite an event to find
you alone. T have something so Ina
portant to say to you. How cool you
look in that white dress; I have never
seen you look anything but cool, now
teat I come to remember."
"I suppose I look pretty much like
other people," said. Lady May.
The countess seated herself with the
air of one who had plenty to say and
Intended to say it. She laid before Lady
May, the exact state of the ease.
"You will not refuse?' she said, in
etnelusien. "You know that I am not
dattesing you when I say that my
entertainment will be the greatest poe-
sible success if yon will only take pail
In the play,"
I Lady May hesitated.
"I an not sure," she replied, "whe-
ther I could. I have never steed in
en intg
,
t
y n ,
"hly dear Lady May, all women are
born mattresses," said the countess; "you
hare but to try. I thought we would
give 'Romeo and Juliet' this time,
or
the 'Lady of Lyons;" which would you
prefer?"
"I suppose it Is terrible heresy to say
it, but I prefer the 'Lady of Lyons'"
"And you would make such. a glori-
ous Pauline," said the countess, medi-
tatively; "yes, I think we mus] have
the 'Lady of Lyons,' by ail menus, I
ann so glad it is settled. Do you klnanr
what frightened me?"
"No," replied Lady May.
"I know that Sir Clinton Adair does
iaok aPeenee et anything of the kind,
and," continued her Iadysldp, with a
nteaaing smile, "it is only natural that
you should share his opinions.:"
Lady May's Pride was instantly up is
urine.
"Why should I share his opinions?"
she asked. quickly.
"Tlte reason is obvious," replied the
countess, l$taglaiegly; "for the same rea-
son, I suppose. that you have grao!o]►sly '.
ca i'sented to share his nuns."
"Iron do you know he has expressed
such opinions?" asked the young heir-
ese, imperiously.
"Because, my dear Lady May, •half
London—Haat is, our part of London—
is talking about thein, It aapPears thet
the question was brought on the tapis
A few evenings since by the habitues
of St. George's Club --Sir Clinton, you
know, is a member. Ile expressed his
ides about tabie:aus. private theatricals
and all that kind cf thing, in pretty
strong language."
"I suppose he has a right to his own
epinaoaas, as 1 to mine, or you to yours,
Lady Ssvandawn. "
"Most certainly," replied the mum -
tees, quicicly feeling uncertain as to how
the wind was veering, "It was not ex-
actly Sir Centon's opinions that made
n,e uneasy,"
-Tenet then?" nrlefly asked Lady
May.
"It appears that after be left the olub
there were bets made among the young
ot1icers --young men will do those things,
you know, dear Lady May."
"What were the bets?" she inquired,
quickly.
"Really, I do not think I ought to
tell you, as they concerned yourself."
"Concerned me!" said Lady May, her
face flushing, her eyes brightening with
a proud light. "How dare any otflcers
or geutleneen make me the subject of
their bets? Speak quickly, if you
please, Lady Swandown. I do not like
CHAPTER V.
ase ARTFUL woa&N's VICTORY.
Lady Swandown, looking at the prcui,
fuir face, with its hot flush of angry
pride, began to fear that she had, per-
haps, gone a little too far; but then,
when a fashionable lady has an objet
to achieve, she cannot possibly be excret
as to a word or two.
"My dear Lady May," she replied, "if
you take it in that way, I shall be afraid
to tell you. It was a mere nothing,
after all, only showing what import-
ance it attached to every movement of
yours. Young men are not very wise,
as you know."
"What was the bet, Lady Swan-
?"
"Why, those foolish young men, know-
ing, of course, your engagmeent to Sir
Clinton, and haring just heard his
strong dislike to what he was pleased to
call 'all such unseemly exhibitions,'
laid wagers with each other that you
would not appear in them. Sir Clinton
has something of the character of a
brave cavalier among us, of course,"
continued the countess, seeing that Lady
May remained silent; "it was very im-
pertinent of them to make you the /sub-
ject of a wager, hut they never dream-
ed, of .:oanse, that you would know it."
"It was impertinent," said proud Lady
May. "They said, then, that I should
not appear?"
"They went further than that—they
weld Sir Clintons would not allow it!"
There was a few minutes' struggle
in that proud heart; she was half in-
clined to take her lover's side, after
all -hex lover, who loved her so dear-
ly, whose life was bound up in hers,
who was so kind, so brave, so chiva•1-
reus. She was half inclined to think
and to say that he was right. Her own
pride and delicacy revolted from the
notion of becoming an actress, of mask-
ing the beauty of hex face the means of
drawing a crowd. Then, too, she really
loved him, and did not care to displease
him.
Lady Swandown, like the quick,werld-
ly woman she was, saw that she had
not produced the impression she wish-
ed, but rather an opposite one. She,
knowing well the faults of the beauti-
ful young girl before her, did not hesi-
tate to play upon them.
"Of course," she hastened to add, "cif
there really is any such great and seri-
ous objection on Sir Clinton's part, I
vtithdraw my prayer. We women have
to learn obedience, and we cannot learn
it too soon."
"1 aha not aware that I owe obedience
to aaiy, one," said Lady May; "and I
ccn, at least, please myself whether I
pay it, even when I owe it.
"Still, if Sir Clinton really objects to
it. I should advise you not to do it,"
said the artful countess. "My dear
Wady May, a quarrel is sooner made
than healed."
Che cared very little who quarreled,
provided she attained her object, and
heard her entertainment called the best
affair of its kind during the aeaso;n
annihilate Mrs, Dunbar, she would
have parted half the husbands and
wives she knew. If she had tried
every means in the world, she could
have hit upon none socertain of sue-
eE'ee as those she had employed.
"I have often given up nay wishes, my
amusements and pleasures to please the
earl," she continued. "It is a woman's
duty, I suppose; and a, very disagreeable
duty it is at times. It is early enough
for you to practice it, dear Lady May;
still, I admire you for it. The time
was when ladies' whims ruled the.
world; the tables are turned now, Weil,
I shall lose the brightest star of my'
fete, but I admire your docility. Would
that I could always imitate it. Women
should be born without will, without
nnind."
"They are, many of teem," L.idy
Ma
d
.,
: r3y
'liey, countess rose, with a, deep sigh„
'T should like to have seen you as
I'auline;' she said. "I imagine the tali,
Droud "Lady of Lyons" was something
like yourself. I most try to bear the
disappointment as well as I ran."
She moved as Brough intending to
take her leave, Lady May sat In
thoughtful sileuee, her face bent on her
hands. The countess gave her one keen,
shrewd look, then continued:
"No orae will ever dare to Bail you
proud after this, Lady May; and how
mistaken all those foolish young nten
will be! Yet, I mistake; I remember
qthat the majority agreed. you would not
go,"
Tboae last wards (Melded her; the
artful, well-ehosega wards produced their
Rover effect,
"The majority were risteken, Lady
Swandown. 1 intend to accept, your
hind invitation, though I •should like you
not to mention my resolve,"
"1 will do anything you like," said
the countess, her face flushing with
elation at her victory, "It would par-
haps, lessen tee .awkwardness. -I enea.0
that it night probably please Sir Cline
ton, if I asked ll m to take the mart of
Claude Melnette."
'Claude 1.telttr,tte •-I'auline's love. t
Ohofiti" tno, Lady Sw•aaclowu; do not think
The countess laughed.
"I thought, peep tins, " she said, "you
would prefer that your laver should
snake love to you even upon the stage."
Nt,; you alo a.•'t understand," cried
Lady May, with a Jen fiuslt on ber beau-
tiful face. Then slue stopped abruptly.
'low could slat' explain? She was
proud, imperious, eaprieious, hut her
love for her lover was earnest and deep.
"P"lay et love with him on the stage!
0h, no—a thousand rimes Hol" She
shrank from the idea as she would
have shrunk from a caricature of her-
self, She was too deep in earnest !or
"Sir Sir Clinton world not consent,"
she replied, quietly, after reflecting how
usless it would be to attempt to ex-
plain this phaco of feeling to the Coun-
tess of Swandown.
"I am sorry for it.. He is tall and
handsome, with just tbe earnest, lmpas-
aioned face one would naturally give to
Claude Meinotte. I will ask the Duke
of Rosecarn to take it, They tell me he
declaims excellently. He is very good-
looking, but he has not the princely air
of Sir Clinton- Siaouid ycu like me to
ask the duke?"
'Lady Mary looked up in wonder.
"It w111 not matter to me wino ale
sumcs the character, • she maid,
"Pardon. It will naturally be of some
importance; we snail be compelled to
have several rehearsals, and this kind
of things leads to great intimacy. You
would not like any one in the part who
was not eligible in every way,"
"The duke will do as well as any one
else," said Lady May; but even as she
spoke, a sense of misgiving carne over
her—would the man who loved her with
such deep. earnest passion approve of
such intimacy with the duke?
But the countess. having won her vic-
tory, was determined not to leave Lady
May time to rescind her decision. She
talked of the coming entertainment in
glowing terms.
"If I were to spend my life in thank-
ing you, Ledy May," she said, "I could
never express one-half of my gratitude.
lehaenever I hear praise or approval of
my et -torts, I shall know that the praise
16 due to you."
Dress, jewels, rehearsals. were all dis-
cussed, and then, proudly elated, the
countess withdrew. In the ball he met
Sir Clinton, and looked defiantly at him,
as one who should say: "I know your
errand, and I know also that it is in
vain." The countes. looked at him with
a wicked gleam of triumph in her eyes.
She was more tiban usually warm in her
greeting; having won the victory she
crued afford to be generous.
Then Sir Clinton hastened into the
presence that made earth heaven for
him. He saw an expression of unusual
thought on the beautiful face that was
his guiding etas.
"May," he said, somewhat abruptly,
"I met going away from you one of
the people I dislike most in this world—
Lady Swandown. I am sorry you re-
ceive her. She is, to my mind, one of
the women who do more harm than
good as they pass through life. I sup-
pose you have heard of this mania of
hers for private theatricals?"
"I have heard of it," said Lady May,
"She knows better, I should imagine,
than to expect that you will take a part
in them. I must confess I cannot
understand a Indy exhibiting herself for
winoiesale admiration."
"But are not actresses ladies, Clin-
ton?" she asked.
"I suppose so. Some of them are
most estimable ladies; but it is their
profession. With this amateur acting
I have no patience."
"Should you play Romeo, if I played
Juliet?" she asked, laughingly.
"I think not, darling: I should not
like to play at loving ,you, nor should
I like to say sweet words to you in
public, After all, stage love -making is,
but a caricature."
"We agree for once," she replied. "I
should not like to play at love, as you
call` it. All the same, Clinton, I am
sorry you do notlike amateur aching.
I have accepted Lady ,Swandown's: in-
vi.tation to take part in a play."
You have accepted itr he Inter-
rupted.
"Yes, I have promised to enact the
role of Pauline. If you do not join In
the play, at least you will come to gee
me?"
Then she raised her eyes to We face..
She was almost startled by the expres-
Provided she could crush, eclipse, end s7
ou of keen pain she malt there. He
seized teeth her hands in ; him.
"efy darling." 1* eried, "you will noR
do this—you cannot mean it?"
"I have promised," she said.
"You cannot do it; you are not all
cruel ---all cold. You will not trample
my heart under your feet; you will not.
torture your—"
Her beautiful face grew pale as she
listened. Proud, imperious as she was,
she would that moment have given mutt'
is wile had never made the promise,
"You cannot mean it!" he cried. "ely
darling, if 1 had a ,round —a terrible,
mortal wowed—how gently you would
treat me—how your sweet white hands
would linger on me with a loving touch!.
I have a wound, deeper than that given.
by bullet of feud or sword of ,steel; and
that wound is jealousy --a wound Po
deep, so cruel, that the gentle eyes oaf
a fair 'woman might weep tears over it..
You are promised wife, yet you
drive ane toad with jealousy. I cannot
help it; it masters me; it is „ rongir
than I myself. Do not widen that deep„
mortal wound, May,"
"Why should I widen it? Why should
you be jealous if I take part in a play?'
"Wily? I have hardly words in whioh
to telt yon why. First, because for the
sake of my own great love I would keep
you front all vulgar- eyes. I loathe the
thought that men should gaze on /our
face, criticize your figare, year gen
tares, your vokce—you, tuy darling, aiy
proanised, wife! ---you, my fair, white
Idyl—you, whom 1 reverence as a saint
and would fain keep in a shrine! Oh,
May, you ask me why! Delis net y:arr
own heart give you a thnusaud meow/
Mine done. You ""annot so cruel,
May—you uaust give it upl"
[To az COFI'1;wt D.]
THE MOOERN $HIP OF WAR.
Ob,rerrutaou,s and Coneivaltoni of an
Otaleee or file Natty,
In a, modern battleship the eaptale Iri
condemned to ituprisonment during goo-
tion ire a steel conning tower 10 inches
thick and 0 feet 10 inebos In diameter,
compared with which the prison of the
Man With the Iron Mask was a palace.
I tried the conning tower in thoMassa-
chusetts during tho tiret bombardment of
Santiago, but soon abandoneai it for the
bridge. finding it difficult to grasp all the
varying condltlous of the action from the
marrow peepholes often blanketed by thick.
smoke, One dud not feel welly in touch
with the action er with Ma own ship in
such a position, and the ruavetuents of the
rueu wero controlled by an uuseen spirit.
01 course, when in chase action with an-
other ship and n Millstone: of rapid fire and
tnaehlne guns is falling upon your vessel,
it would be unwise not to seek its shelter,
but from great gun fire alone I prefer to
do as we did In the civil war and to take
1 ,Y ehnncee ou tine bridge in the open.
Other commanding ofllcers thought the
same way, and at the bombardment of
San .Juan Captain 'l'aylor sat upon the
bridge of the Indiana calmly emoktng s
algae
Today the majority of men In a battle-
ship aro shut np in a tight steel box is
which are immense boilers heating the
atmosphere to a mitten temperature and
where they can only hear, but cannot sae.
They work away in their floating dungeon
without any inspiring vision to lighten
their labors.
It Is related that during the destruction
of Corvine's fleet, when thorowas a lull in
the firing on board the Oregon, the chief
engineer came up from the flreroom and
said to Captain Clark, "For (hod's sake,
captain, lira another gun so as to keep up
the spirits of my mon." These devoted
souls, far down in the depths at the ship,
toeing the fiery furnaces, knew only by the
sound of the guns of the battle raging
above them, and the heavier the tiro the
barrier they worked. In order to realize
the exhausting condition under which men
tight in a modern battleship it is only nec-
essary to see them, when the hatches are
opened after action, pour up from below,
perspiring and half naked; to see with
what relief they breathe the fresh air and
bow eagerly they run to havo a look at the
battery or ship which has been engaged.
Modern science, with all its tremendous
resources and increase of power, has not
lfghtonod the conditions under whioh inen
labor during action. —Commodore Higgin-
son in Independent.
NOTHING THE MATTER.
Wrong Impression of a Manager Cor-
rected by a Cool Customer.
A quietly dressed than whose smooth
shaven, bluish jaw gave him the aspect of
an actor walked into an up town restau-
rant a few evenings ago and ordered quite
a substantial meal. He ate leisurely and at
the end of the repast lit a cigarette. The
waiter presented a (Meek for 81.40. "1
have no money," said the stranger, push-
ing aside the slip. "Sir!" said the aston-
ished garoon. The other repeated his state-
ment and went on sinoking.
The waiter hesitated a moment, then
sourried across to the manager and whis-
pered in his ear. The latter strode over to
the table. "What's the trouble, sir?" he
asked politely enough. "Nothing," replied
the diner placidly. "The waiter says you
won't pay." "The waiter's wrong; I said
I had no money." The' manager began to
lose his patience. "Do you mean you ain't
going to pay this check?" he asked curtly.
"I can't." There wasa pause and the two
men studied each other. "So you came in
here," sold the manager finally, "and or-
dered a big mealy knowing you were broke
and couldn't settle?" "I did," replied the
other, still perfectly pool. "Well, what
made you do it?" exclaimed the manager
;zn a burst of exasperation. "Because I
wanted the meal." There was another
pause, "I'll have you arrested," said the
manager. "For what?" "For obtaining
goods under false pretenses." "What pre-
tense did I naako?" ]asked the stranger
calmly. "Oh,well, you can't ooane in and
take our food Haat way!" "Yes, I can -ea ,,;
I've just done it," said the other, remov-
ing tho ash from his cigarette. The man-
ager scratched his head. "Get out," he
said abruptly, "and don't try this again."
The quiet man reached for his hat and
walked away, puffing his cigarette. "'I'd
rather lose the amount' than havo a dis-
turbance," teed the manager, "INA Imust
say he's tbe coolest hand I ever struck."'
In the excitement nobody noticed that
the stranger had carried off his check.
Half an hour later it came back in an en-
velope with $140 in silver. "It was a
bet," was sprawled in pencil on the back.
—New Orleans Times -Democrat.
Timely sport-
nere they play football in the District
of ColumbiaP asked the observant
boarder.
"Not after congress goes into session,
replied the Dross eyed boarder.
"Noe"
"Then begins the exciting, gen. of
Oa ging the speaker's . eye."-ePilasbort.