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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.