HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1899-8-31, Page 6BETWEEN TWO LOVES
ftERTIIA cr..e.y.
"Keep my seeret." se whispered t
Miszs La-el:wood; "keep my secret; no
°me must know that be had hellcat his
marriage from me. Help me to paint
my face, to dress my lair; help me to
laugh tied to talk. to. dance, to sing, foe
tat) daye—ouly taw days—and. After
that, there will be time to tale."
"You shell net die," said Miss Lott-
leod, kissing her feee with fast -failing,
tears. "You shall not die for We sake.
my darting. Ile never was grad erionea
for yeu; you ellen live to haessi isonte wie
tow,
VIIAPTER V.
"Yoe' eerie AeAtel"
A. mouth bad passed eince Daisy re -
tamed to, Pearsee, all awe well thews:
the ?Sale tree Lad tett law es -weigh her
absence. alase. Ere bal "eagle throwtha
a grew deal was% lassiere. who tete
proved nwee taste onlirearee stunii; wie
she load we -eased bereelf by theakeie
Heavese that in goo -1 nme ebe eacead
be Iiia=m4 "sensib:e Carzt,:Zons" av,in.
ne tiv.zs eata a) see Isaisy, aat dee
Imlay Wbi. atfe. Sesette was n',:. Ste s.atre
pe2sua as the taw wee, rev wee; nee
1).3.4.,y ,,Ni.is a quiet. e-:asae-J,aas, ErNL
W4. ft ;•,.?e:111,3, 0
4•;:. er.--1:, c:,:zr, she, ild.5.4io yease
ol.icn. OW tu'..: LVA.,. ::::11 I Vit' l'W eX
erseatee; tae sewn. ead
Z.411., %vat With U il:',:t"-fr.iitht,,:ted gaireet
ot the %weal thet -,14t., :mil a teed tie
!nava bawler, wed eo, niterh more naeatel
teae she tad lateedire la-ases had pew-,
red througa the 4tnicu1 01,' sufieriag—friira
it .be heti leernal eseeraacee that
pews nut ;ewer give.
A eurioue kind of wesignation oilers*
over her. Site knew the nee-es—thew
was no, mere 0 ilMaal or tO fOar.—ber
ausband eel aot loses her, reel sad awe
wane one else. 'She ited Itetle bow. tare
at least, ehe wae saved the tormre e
fasTeatie—the areal ot tielistown evil; ell
the truth, sant as it was, lay bare be-
fore ben
"I sleraid thistle" siee and to hearself.
"that fee all the weed there nee no three
peeple wk miserable as we are."
Tie only wa.y ow et' the litlieuity that
gee could! see was es lie; but thee Pro-
videnite did wit alwase. lend itself VS the
arrergenowns ant wailies of men. An -
ether doubt mute to her—in lade May
slie restoguezed a bed, 11014e wo-
ws danieful whettier She
would ever think of Fer Olintsge with
reepeet. reraeh leas blve Wm.
Not Welt Daisy eel any iutention o
dying; but she tiaelt se (resistant:a- 1
the feet tit her death wee the only
means a freeing her beshentl, that Wee
eaten to look on it ae a matter of sourse.
A month had passal. and site had nearer
heard et or froze hien. No suspieloa
came to her now, as it would have done
Iteferes She never once, even over en
faintly'fancied that be was hovering
near Isady lay. $he had attained home
an altered womae. resieniel to her fate,
whatever it might be, patient to ervinne
to the end, but finely re -solved that there
(should be no mop-, 1.one.oalrrwa•—sho
wriuld liaise justiee dents to herself and
her thild.
"Mother," she said, the day after her
return. "we have beim +waived in my
ausbauire eiremustanees."
Ma. Erne grew gaie with appviirm.
sion. Was she to lose the Weenie ten
hee daughter's hilsbarei bad settled on
ler?
' "Deeeived, Daisy! Deer me, I am
sorry to hear Wier. I had no idea—is he
—lute he lost all bie meney, then?"
Daisy looked up in :vomiter.
"Ob, no, nothing' ef th A kind. Yoe do
mot understand, nvolier of course. His
teame is not Mr. Clifton."
"Daisy, my g1p:1r, what de eon mean?"
"Ills name h. not elr. allifeen. lia is
a bare-net—a very re h end noble inane
Mrs. Erne's feet. wits a pieture of air-
priso,
"A traresiet, nty date! Weat ie that-?"
"It mewls that lie htt a side. neither.
His real name is Sir Clinton aelair. I
am not Daisy Cefrea. I am Lady
Adair."
The poor, lamely awther grew paler
still with fright.
"Oh. 1)aisy. my dear, bow can it be?
Are you quite sure that your marriage
is all right—was it Weal?"
Daisy laughed a low, bitter laugh, not
geed to hear.
"Perfectly legal befere men," she re-
plied, thinking that poorhap,i the absence
of love made it illegal before God.
"You are quite A'ire of it, Daisy? Do
not laugh at me, my demo See, r am
trembling now. It is surfs a ;terrible
' thing, Daisy. Daisy, my dear, if be
, is a creat nobleman, why did he marry
, you?"
Agnin that laugh that we so clap/ea-
ses-it to hear.
"What do greet noblemen marry for,
xnathee—is it not either money or love?"
eYes, I ehould supswee so. Daisy."
"Well, we may be quite sure that Sir
Clintou did not merry me for money—
' I had none. The only conclusion we
t.tan arrive at is that he married me
i • "For love," interrupted her mother;
! "and he must brave loved you very deer -
Sy, Daisy, I never thought to live to
see this day. You Lady Adair!"
1 "Yes," replied Daisy—the seemed to
take keen delight in talking about this
title of hers—"tbe ba.by there, mothee,
such a little mite he looks, he will on
day be Sir Clint= Adair; for, do you
' know what I have decided upon doing?
I, I shall call my baby Clifton, in memory
of those early days, when I believed
1 it was his father's (mama"
t "Daley," said Mrs. Erne, slowly,
1 h"how very much your husbaad must
ave loved you. I suppose he could
have chosen from among the richest
ladies in England."
- "Certainly he coratd," replied Daisy,
'slowly.
! "Yet he chose you. I should not have
imaginettl that he loved you so well; no
iwoe would ,have thought it from hie
manner."
•
1 "They would net Indeed, Mother," was
• the calm reply.
( Not to that anxious, motherly woman
I would Daisy conflde the secret of her
exixiety and distrees.
• So time passed on, end a° news came
,
tem Sir Clieten. The only message
that reeled her tam England. ens
that she reeelved the tiewepapers cone
teaelne the announitentent of her own
marriage. There was no date given, no
pt1'.4‘ mem/ oned—merely the briefest
enable paraniesph to say thee Sir Class
Teri Adair hal reasetly naarried ef!ss
Erne. aad eveity persen tvho read that
Paragraph fuerried that the whole 'testae
re ere ;reran in sense other paper. She
harder knew whether to be most pleosee
with the Wet that her marriage was
ienateuneed. or vexed at the method, of
the ancouneemeat; ir showel one thew,
tholgh, rery pith:Lie, that. alehouget be
bed not cartel to make the faet of hie
marriage publie, eaill it ha'l been legal,
sew ae in pewter form. Thee another
English lexper teld her that Sir Oliaten
exel laasly Adair were on the Cantineree
awl intended m spend seme tieae there.
Agaia
the wondered, hut <wine tO the
aseension that it Was Sa: Cearm
lt eh°him-
Jba3 caused these :lees to be
nese-ea. True. Sir (Wawa •led T4dy
tIatr were a,Jrxid. bat rra,?re was he.
weeks pessed ,ra—it was six since
kr wawa. Ae as she received ilet-
.: team Boulcnnefrom hies. hueltand.
Deestas hand Trembled as she epened it,
seendasew wave; it contained. Ouly a
w anee,. end 'incase were mitten, In
a,. mos; feeble aud Weeitaiere of hands, ,
Th:ess assereeeI2s.
. D
De Is am at Berziogne, a
tiz.). 1)te du N..re. I am sere !i:, One'
deet sr, says that thee re -weer, the ,
other that I shitn tt. It I dee. there is.
wis to be areaegad .we: be boy. I;
eta maize a n..., appwatiag tn.:sews!
'r him. It waist: Ta..17,:kr. 1*.
eau te came and see me be. if
de toot 1Un1 tae tette jontner. 'Your
s wal taw. are of the child. Frera
YtUaffeetiouate
--Clin,ton Adair."
fanet thenserht was one of bitter -
her mother take ware et the
afost father% if thee round titeux•
in danger of deatb, svould long
their only son—would wisie era
t. the little tae: but net her—not Sir
dllintou Adair.
Her second tloneht was one of deep
aerrow and paw; he was in dangee of
death, mud she ferget hie fault toe the
tinw—fort Wert he had 'never loved
es, that elv. ba i been meet unhappy
with hen—forg ail and everelliaa,
exeept that he was bet husbaud, aud
ia danger of death.
Weeeens :sae Of nine. she made ell
inera.agemeate with her tattlter.
"It &VMS to ato, Daisy." said that
good Warnanri1', that rIU are
!ways ;wing ewer from home. I am
sate that Vselsese will be mistress of the
hens; she was eefore, If your hue -
band ea how swell he write?"
But Diane. to no renal:late-
titice, and ea not rest again until
she Was 111 Ler wast to Boulogne„ The
Hotel fin Notel was seon newherl, and
there Delay awed Sir Clinton sick, al -
newt unto eleath. She inquired hastily
what was tlw anewr with him, and
they told htle that he heel gone out one
evening awl wiri etteght be a riolimt
storm of twin. Thee hod hewed him to
be emettal, ses so =my ;wade were ill,
bur, he laughed at ell aUrice, perhaps
being spate inaiff nant as to wbether he
were ill w The result was whet
might leiva been enposseel, end
terrible low twee Daiev seas taisen
at one' to hit morn, as he id ereressed
a wish to that t1't, end she was etarti-
ed at tsie wir te that grief and illness
bed nrid., inSir Clintna. He was wank
as a child; his bends were shadowy, hie
lace pale and team almeet transparent.
looked at her when she entered with
quivering live
'qt. nine v.-..rv genii of you to came,
Daiess" he felewiel. "You heap coals
of tire on my h tari."
"You netwe tie:night that I should re -
ales,. Caro; eon fen sw me better than
Weer. 1 Fix4)511,1 he coml to you from
the other tend of the world. You have
been very ill. Are you better?'
"Yes," he replied. =rely. "I WW1
not die this timo, DaiSS1 I' am male
better. Weep heord the doetore dis-
agree I thoneht that my life was safe.
I think so new: but 1 he ee been yew
ill; and, hest my Illness should take a
serious turn, 1 theught it better to send
for you."
Daisy lead taken off tier bonnet and
cloilk. She went rip se Si: Clinton and
knelt down by Ids bedside.
"This is like ol 1 'rime's." she said.
"You !lying ill while 1 nnrse yon."
"1)-Ilay„' sail Sir Clinter., "there is
Dateline, like illness for bringing a man
to leis senses. Since 1 have been lying
ewe I have been thinking—thinking
deeply—end 1 can see my feult in its
true wears, -in its full enarmite. I have
been very wrote; I have wronged Lady
May; but, above all, I have wronger.I
you. I can make no amends to her;
there is nothing that can. atone to her
for the years she has wasted over me;
hat for my geeateet we -one I can atone;
for my studied neglect a you, my in-
difference, my went of love, my cold-
ness, I will do my beet to atone. You
have been a true, faithful, tender little
wife to ina Daisy, and I will, if God
spares my life, make oil up to you, and
win begin again quite afresh."
Daisy bent her sweet, flower-like face,
ell flushed with happiness, ate the three' ,
white hands of her husband.
"You fill my heaet with gladness,
Caro," she said.
"Can you love me, Daley, as though
I had been tile best of husbands?" he
said. "Ana, my dear wife, illneseterhows
everything in true colors. Now that I
Irak back upon my life with Ayes that
have been dimmed with the shadows of
death, I see so much to blame—I see
my sin in all its ernormity, and I only
wonder that I was mad enough or blind
enough not to see better what I was do -
big. Daisy, I feel like a man who had
been mad with delirium or fever; 1 can-
not have been in my sane, sober senses.
Do you know, little wife, that if I had
heard the game thing of any mite else—
that any one else bad behaved as I have
done, I should have called such conduet
by a very bad name, Illness seems to
have cleared my brain as it has clewed
my senses. I cannot imegine what In-
fatuation was over me, or why 1 eeer
concealed my maeritage from_ Lady
May."
• "It was the fret step in the wrong
directions," said Daisy, "and it was dif-
Scan to retrace, I can in:mg-kw the temp-
tatiorn when the, whom yott loved
demiy, found you out, awl asked you
to be friends. It le some ceneloot to
week what you did was le the begin
-
eine not quite your own, fault, Bat,
Caro, de you With that you vsill erer
i.oru to tove inc?"
He raised himself and looked down
on the sweet face.
"Daisy," he said, "I am nine, te be
a good man, Hea.ven helping me—a good
wen. 1 will melee you happy; I will de-
vote my life to you and to my child; I
will only remember the peen to atone for
it. Will you help me, dear wife, by
being kind and patient with, inert
e, sunbeam.. passing themethe win-
dow, lingered on the flower-like face
the ealeed to his. as Daisy, with her
whole heart Qn her lips, answered:
saires."
CHAPTER ix!. -yr
"EE EE.T.. ALWAYS LOVE Rem"
Ttle resolve taken 12 illnes.s bad its
effect. Sir Clinton rose from els sick
bed a, wiser wen; the past seemed to
tem like a fevered areae—he could
berdly realize it. How near he had
been to the very brink oe °rime; Now
that he was calm, collected and him-
t.elf araie. be was filled with wonder
that he ereald ila,ve ever so far forgotteg
the most common rules of right and
wreng—he would like to make amends.
'When he had quite recovered he wrote
to, Lady afay a Sttng letter—one whieh
lie houestly believed would be his last to
her. He implored of ter to pardon Wm;
be told her that his love for her had
ateee co greet thut ir hed literally areas*
isizo mai. and that to els madness mast
he atteabutea the wreug wills% he had
done.
"I was nevertoi one moment myself,"
he std, ••fr-pro the night v,,hen 1 be-
lieved tizat I had ir-it you until I lay
sick unto death: Ilion, and then wily.
my senses came leielt to me, and I SAW
what 1 Lail atinfi; tlwn, and then only.
'mew that I had beeo on the verge
of the deasineet crime. May, 1 have
wronged you mine deeply than womee
was ever injured before; I will do my
best to Wane for it. But, May—Mais,
this is the last ery of a broken heart
to yon, I wan face my life better if you
will send me osse word to say that PM
have forgiven rae, and that you are
happy. If I had that aSuranee, 1 elionid
be a different nein-1 (royal resume me
life with a new heart. WW you send
rae tilaz one word, alay?"
Tie gave the Ierter to Daisy to reed,
but she refused.
Wast yew" She said. "awl I triers
Lady May. I uttve no wash to read it."
The answer came, in due time—brief,
but fell of neranine; it consisted of thaw
1:411"'eql. *forgive you fawn the depth of my
heart; the talk was in me, and, I a.m
gusto haler."
Net another word, and with this Sir
Clintou Ct• compelled to be contents;
but to him there was more of pathoe in
those words, "I ant quite balines," than
a Wt '» vellime of rernoaele She
had forger:ten him; that ought to be
enough. Now he must bid goed-by ro
the bright, beantiful dream that hea
tnede the briglaness of his life; he
mew lire Dor his wife and child.
Ile wan firm and resolute, hut the
doom of the wreathed was on him; Ise
might as well have tried to tear, the
beaeing :mart from his body, and
nee withow it, as tear from bis mind
all thought at her. He WaS firm and
steadfast; he wonid not spend orie min-
ute in couseious dreams of her; he tried
to put all merartry of ber out of his life,
but he IlfWer quite succeeded, because
s,he had been life iteelf to him.
Pliers, when he was strong enough to
travel, he asked Daisy if they should
go back to Seville; but Daisy had grown
wise; the dearly loved her pretty home
among -the vines and olives, yet she
woula not retttrn there, knowing that
to bim it must be haunted by memories
of tlats past. It was there that he had
dreamed of, thought of, and suffered for
Lady May.
"Caro, we will not go back to
Seville," she said; "it is a very pretty
home. but very dull. My should we
not travel? That would be the best
thing for you; it would eheer you, and
it would educate me. I have always
had a greet lotging to see Spain—will
you take me there?"
So it was settled; Daisy was not will-
ing foe Sir Clinton to return to Seville—
she went herself. Mrs. Erne, only too
thankful to return to England, weet
home a richer and wiser woman; until
the day she died she never ceased telling
the histoey of foreign lands; she became
the heroine of the whole country -side --
an authority whom all the poorer neigh
-
bars consulted, and not a little proud
was the kindly -seaman of her superior
knottledge.
The house at Seville was left empty;
baby with his nurse was to travel with
them. Sir Clinton had smilingly ac-
ceded to Daisy's wish that the boy
should be called Clifton. He wes be-
ginning to love the fair-haired, laughing
bey who smiled in his face and etretohed
out his arms to him. '
The srun was shining just then for
Daley; herhusband was kind and at-
tentive to her; what was better will,
he loved the child. She believed that
he had ceased to think or dream of Lady
May. They went to Spain; Daisy's
dream of delight was verified. They
lingered in fah. Castile and sunny Gran-
ada, where it seemed. to her that a aew
and more beautiful life began for thole
They remained there for more than a
yearr. Dailey decided not to return to
England. At present all was well; what
neght happen if they were once more
ou the spot, and Sir Clinton met again
with his lost love? Like a wise Wo'
man, Daisy knew that prevent:lore wres
better than cure—that it was wiser to
keep out of temptation, than to strilr
gle against it.
The present was her were no one
could tell what the future miglit be.
She tried her best to be a companion to
her husband. She read deeply; she
thought continually; she listened to the
conversations of wise people. She lest
no opportunity of impro-ving herself and
the result wee, that in the graceful,
'beautiful Lady Adair no one would have
recognized simple Daisy Erne.
She was greatly edneired. The dark -
eyed Spardards especiaily admired the
fair, idle like beauty of Sir Clintonfs
wife. Whatever city they visited they
were eagerly welcomed Inthe first
circles. If We Clinton had been inclined
ta jealousy he would have beea, most
jealousy, for never had fair lady awee
courtesies. It was al one to Daety;
there was but one face in the whole
world for her, and that was the face
ef her husband.
Wheu they had spent a year ins
Spain, Sir Clinton asked her if she
would return home. She declined. Not
yet—she was loot ready just yet, she
told him; and he looked at her half
Attendee -MOT -
"Do you not trust roe yet, Daisy?*
be asked; and site aeswered;
"Yes, I trust you; but the truest wis-
dom is to slum temptation, not to seek
it;" and la his heart he knew that she
was right,
"'Mere shall we go now, Dalerr ise
asked, gently,
should like to go to Italy, Caro,"
abe relied, and to Italy they weer,
311 tereteteneilel
ICED SOUPS, a
soot -or Fruit Theeriste Glee Seen* NW
Xcleas in Seast..aehle leoecis for
Rot Weather.
Students of 'our time thinking on
parallel lines with the savants of Gers
Many,, Who have made such, swides in
the discovery and improvemeut of foods,
leave learned how much less it requirea
of bulk to satisfy tbe body (net the artie
nelite appetite) than was thought in the
eighteenth oentut7. But all are pretty
well agreed, especially in Germany among
the Unit theorists, that the food of all
important workers should be the best. It
Jo not unoommon to hear a frnit special.
ist say: "You—exhitutting energy as you
do for the daily *press, whiela demands
that the faculties of earns man shall he at
the top of his bent, you must eat better
food, Yoe should pay for the raw mater-
ial of your food not less titan ten shill -
legs (Wee()) a day," If you expostulate,
"Rue1 think so =gob money eau be
bower epent. Consider, doctor, the Scot-
tish Sebool of Metaphysic:et all OW brain
stuff turned out on oatmeal and whisky;
I don't think my work geed enough to
spend ten shillings Oh it Rather let me
do as St. Teresa (whose family spent a
fortune on her health), pay no attention
to snY Toed or my health. and perhaps
by thinking only of others as she did I
Will get atrong as she did."
Rare you are bidden be praetical and
open your eyes fought. Another German
speoialist side tel me; "And eat—don't do
As all women do—dine on tinned corned
beef and hard boiled eggs, But go to the
best place, order a broiled bird, a pint of
Clicquot and a hunch of the best grapes
iced—or Rudesheituer if you have the
good aense. You will see that your editor
will -send a broiled chicken and cham-
pagne check, lostead of one of corned
beet and weak ten kind. To write Well a
man must build the thought up by the
body.
1! what the Hanover fruit theorists
give out be true, the following fruit
soups, taken icy cold or hot according to
preference, are good for brain workers
and people who must exert themselyes in
warm weather. They are given as food
and medicine. But the doubter can take
them for the sake of variety.
Iced Soup of Oranges—Take four
oranges, grate the neel in sugar to absorb
the essential oil, then pound the sugar
in a bowl, and squeeze over it the juice
of the fruit and do the same with two
lemons, cutting the lemons lengthwise
and squeezing the juice over their zest.
Reject the seeds and put the pulp and
sugar in a porcelain pan, to which you
bave added three pints of oola water and
let it boil. Dissolve in a oup a tablespoon-
ful of Trish moss and add to the orange
liquor. Let it reduce by ten minutes boil-
ing, strain and cool. Tben put in it a
pint of chopped ice, let it stand a few
-minutes, add a glass of weite wine (un-
less wbito vrine be forbidden as it is not
prescribed for all rneu) and eat with
bread as any other soup,
Raspberry 'Soup with Italian Paste—
Take a quart of raspberries with a cup
of powdered sugar and mash them finely.
Pour over them throe pints of boiling
water, stir well and put on to come to
the boiling paint. Then add half a oup of
vermicelli, winch you have boiled tenaer-
ly in a little water separately. Stir and
taste if agreeably sweet, and then add
the juice of half a lemon and grate the
zest into it. Put away to cool, then we
it, or not, as you prefer.
Apple soup is not due to modern
theorists, for it has been a fruit broth
for convalescents (in Germany) for cer-
tainly half a century; perhaps more.
Indeed, by inclepez dent search I find
that in the seventeenth century much
that -we think due to our age was em-
ployed by gentlemen and scbolars, among
them George Herbert, the poet and saint.
Take four tare, -very good apples, peel
and core them, and boil to a thin puree
in three pints of water, add the grated
rind of a lemon and four tablespoonful;
of sugar, a saltspoon of salt, two gills ot
Rhine wine. Lastly add three tablespoon§
of sago and cook slowly half an hour.
Pineapple puree can be made the same
Way, without the lemon rind. Not only
Is it an agreeable iced soup, but in win-
ter it is given to babies to oure diph-
theria. In exaggerated cases the juice
only is given.
Iced rhubarb is made into a thin puree
or thick soup. Some thicken It with a
little oatmeal. 13ut oatmeal does not
agree with everybody, and makes itself
manifest in a faintieg sensation an hour
after it is taken. For nee reason some
children's dislike of oatmeal should be
considered.
Iced ourrana jelly is another variety.
Take half a pint of currant jelly and a
pint of chopped ioe and shake them well
in a closed vessel five minutes, then take
asSatra:vouPberries and gooseberries oan be
shnilarly confeoten and both these are
commended for sue)] as must do writing
or study at night, while peaches and all
stone fruit are not good for people ot
sedentary iifet
Sines Reirphies Record Ride.
"Young man," said. the fatherly in-
dividual, "if you continue at this pace
you will shorten your days."
"Would that I could," responded the
youth who deals out ribbons ten hours
oet of 24. "if I thought I could shorten
my working days, I'd try a mile a min-
ute pace."—Chicago News.
Theix, Canny Garae.
"Yes, I always put up twice as much
canned fruit as I use."
"What do you do with the rest?"
"Why,' nobody ever seems to believe I
have such luck with my canning, and I
have to send each one of the doubters a
can to prove my claim." --Cleveland Plain
Dealer.
TROUT. FARMING.
Eatoulot: Trout Not Difficult—Dr, D.U.
Barbour, tee Vermont Expert. Yells
Etow the Work 15 eerformed.
The first thing needed is an unfailing
water supply of pure water from a spring
If possible. If from a stream, take Proper
precautions against any overflow that
shall roil or contaminate the water. e,
half bob stream will probably be enough
for your needs, Make a box 4 feet law
inchee Wide and 12 althea deep. Into
this box put cleat* enough to hold say
Ave frames 19 inches square placed at an
angle of 45 degrees, Cover the frames
with aannel °loth to alter the water so
that wben it reaohes tee eatohing trough
It will be clear and limpid. Rore an inele
hole near the top at the end for overflow
and three inches tone tbe bottom on the
side an iech bole for a supply pipe. NciW
take this bee, 1111 it with straw and
sbavings and set it on ere so that the
surface is thoroughly charred, (teats,
frames and all. This le important, as it
prevents the growth of fungi so destrue-
tive to trout beaching.
NOW build the hatching trough, Make
It 12 feet lima, 12 inches wide and 10
inehes deep. At the lower end bore rows
ot inch boles tWO inches atert, one at tbe
level of the bottom. Now nail sorne inch
oleate across the bottom, making them
AS snugly to the sides ant placiug them
ten inobes apart. Cbar the Insale thor-
oughly, as in case of the smaller trough.
and fit a cover to the toe of both- You
then bave all the apparatus needful to
earry ous the stmple method of batehing
trout. The average trout egg is about one,
eighth of an Inch In diameter. Whet is
we figure 64 to the square inoh, Now
yourbox Is 12 feet long, less 12 inch cleats,
which leaves 11 equarefeet Now as there
are 9,216 eggs to the square foot the 11
stellar° feet will accommodate 101,878
eggs. Breeding trout spawn !rein Septem-
ber on, I have %nen egg$ fr(MA theM es
late as February. I want you to use what
is termed the dry method, as you then
bateb from 90 to 98 per cent,. while In
Wbat is called the wet method only about
03 per want, hatch, Take a clean tea
quart pan to hold the spawn, For cons
venience lave the male trout la one tub
and the fenalle be another.
Tee female trout is said to be ripe
wisen the connective tissee which holds
the eggs together becomes absorbed and
they lie loose in the abdominal cavity.
You will aced to beadle her carefully, as
often her efforte Inbar struggle will emit
the en, you must be careful that she
dew Dot slip away from you inte the
pate, Now take tlie male after you bare
put the female baok andhold him over
the pan, and as the milt. whIroll is formed
by the breaking down of the white lima
at their running season, comes in Cant=
with the eggs they become fecundated
and you can keep this alternatieg process
up until you fill the pan or repeat every
two or three days as the telltales becalm
ripe until you have what eggs you need.
Fecundation takes place by what is term-
ed endosmosis, and is wholly meehanical,
as It were. Now take the eggs from the
pan and place them in the Watching
trough. You may brush them with a
feather into t smaller vessel containing
water, but avoid all jar or aczoidena
Place them so that they will fill the
little Kuzma and not lie piled one upqn
anoteer, but have the tvough so placed
that the water will just run with a slight
current, Now every nay or two pick out
any eggs that may die and in from 50 to
60 days you will see thousands of baby
trout, each true to instmet trying to hide
his head until the tails of these little fry
remind one of a Bald of waving grain,
After awhile the sack (nature's food sup-
ply) is absorbed and they rise in the
water. Now you will say I must feed
them. Don't. just let them alone until
they begin to eat each other, then take
your trout fry and place them in a re-
ceiving pond, which you had previously
prepared and in which you are to let
them remain. If some wiseacre comes
aloeg ana says if fishing were stopped
there would be trout enough, tell him
that naturally they batoh but three in
every thousand, as the fish eat their own
eggs as fast as they are deposited by the
mother trout.
One more thing. Remeniber you have
placed your hundred thousand in some
tiny brooklet which feeds tbe main
stream you wish to stook. These trout
'will not long remain there, for as& trout
increases in size be always goes to deeper
water, and as he becomes a half -pounder
from the mountain stream above to your
meadow, don't think he will stay there,
for there are larger pools below and he
will go there. If you are in a state where
a posting lam is in force and yeu put up
one, you drive your fishermen to the un -
inclosed mountain land, and the result is
a hundred t 'warthogs taken that would
have beoome three -pounders had they
natured. You must have small trout be-
fore you oan have large ones. Here in
Vermont the people are taxed to stook its
streams, support its fish commissioners
and then they stand back and look at
the posters. Follow the above instructions
and you will have in your streams good
trout and good fabing.—Dr. C. H. Bar-
bour, in Orange Judd Farmer.
The Frilled Sheep of Africa.
These sheep inhabit the mountainous
regions of northern Africa up to Nubia.
This is a kind of wild sheep wallah has
received its specific name from the lqng
mane which covers the fore part of its
body. Captured young, it can easily be
tamed and trained. The old bucks, how-
ever, are very vicious. These animals
attain an average height of 87% inches,
and the length of the body is from 60 to
65 inches, without measuring the tail.
The engraving herewith represents a pair
of these sheep living at the Zoological
Gardens in Berlin, Germany. It Is not
A PAIR OF AFRICAN FRILLED SHEEP.
known whether the frilled sheep have
had any relation with the domestic ani-
mals of Africa. Skeletons of these sheep
are found in tne Egyptian museums, and
these quadrupeds' are represented in
different old Egyptian designs. It seems
that these animals have to be considered
as tarned, but not as domesticated.--
Arnerican Agriculturist.
Remember Last Spring.
Bear in mind how the roads ware last
spring and fix them before another spring
wanes.
eAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAILA*
CREAMERY WORK I
4 wliv We Can—not Compete 'Wink eb.
4
1 Foreign Countries in Mak-
ing Fancy ilutter.
4
*VVTYVVVVYYVVYTTITTYVVVVV,
The reason why this country cannot
compete With the European eountries,
Mill as Denteark and Sweden, in maw.,
ufacturing faaey butter is simply be -
Cause we cannot get the milk to the
get It,
rit
ieswinseusehLd.0,ne,coLuadrsitiQ7 la
as they
Creamery Journal,
Our patrons need lots of education,
and sometluaes a little scolding "in a
polite way" before they will come any-
where Roar furnishing the milk to our
factories in such prime condition as Is
done in Denmark and SWeaen.
Next comes not skimming, but clean,
faultless skimming, A. good many cot
our factories today are operated by
men who are not capable a running
a separatoy so that it will do faultless
work. Dvery make of separator re,
quires its awn particular way of op-
e rating. or it will not do anywhere
near what it sherild, 1 am sorry to
say we have sepanscors ou the market
today wbieb no titan could do Setts-
feetory work wake bue we also bave
sepaniture wiresli este be relied upon If
they neve the proper eare and atten.
don. When a fellow steps Into a
ereaurry in the morning and find% for
thz,tauee, the separater trettabiing so
thee it shakes the whole you
ean make up Four mind that the op -
▪ Is lacking either le knowledge
or carefulness, as any competent man
would not allow his maelzine to run
az sue); a meaner.
Another thlug whieh roust and will
be done away with in the near future
Is the Wenzel (If I may say so) milk
eeaters which let the live steam into
the milk.
I shall not attempt te teaela you bow
to run a separator, but always bear
these few things In Replace alt
parts immediately when they show the
least signs of wear* Do not run your
belt too tight nor to loose. Keep your
bowls adjusted so the bearings wear
in the same places on the spindle..
Change rubber rings quite freQuentlY.
Use good oil, See that the step roller
bearings, shaft and steel points are not
worn and use your level on the ma-
chine quite frequently. If these thins
are looked atter as they should be and
the separator still shakes, you should
send it to the factory where It was
made and have it rebalanced, as it un-
doubtedly has got out Of balance in
some way or other. Bear in mind that
on a few days' run with your separator
out of order you will lose a great deal
more money than It Will COUt you for
having it, repaired.
Next comes the ripening of the
cream. "Which is the best way Of do-
ing It?' you ;night ask. 1 will answer
you honestly. 1 eannot tell you. It
depends altegether on the condition of
the cream, the time of the season and
the facilities you have for changing
the temperature.
You might ask me if 1. would advise
you to use a. starter. Yes, I would ad-
vise you to use one if you are familiar
with the making of a good starter. If
you are not, do not attempt it, because
you will fail in improving your goods
any, and you are very liable to dam-
age them, All of the starters in com-
mon use are good ones, both commer-
cial and homemade, if they are used
as they should be at the time of adding
them to the cream, but you are far
better off without a starter if you have
not the practical and theoretical
knowledge which is absolutely neces-
sary to make their use a success.
The churning process Is so well
known that it is hardly necessary to
say much in regard to it The most es-
sential thing Is the temperature. Do
not have your cream too cold, as it will
result in loss of fat In buttermilk.
The working of the butter is also a
very important factor in turning out
extras every day. I have found that
using a salt, with not too fine a grain
in the combined churn is the safest
way. The packing' of the butter also
requires close attention and should be
done immediately after finishing work-
ing. Care should be taken in not fill-
ing tubs too full before cutting Off on
top.
Water For carves.
In order to determine how much wa-
ter the herd of en calves at the Kansas
Agricultural college would drink, the
water given ' them for a week was
weighed and put In a barrel with an
attachment for letting it out as fast as
needed. In the seven days the 18 calves
drank 868 pounds of water, or an aver-
age of 8 pounds a day. The weather
during this time was warm for the
first three days and cool the last
four days. In addition the calves got
RR average of 14 pounds of skintuailic,
besides grain and hay. The calves
drank several times a day, not much at
a time, but often. I noticed several
times that they took only one or two
swallows. Oftentimes they would
take a few mouthfuls of grain, go and
get two or three sups of water, then
back to their grain again. Even after
their rations of milk they would take
a few swallows of water. This expert-
ment Shows that calves need water in
addition to their milk ration; it also
shows that they like it often and not
so much at a time. Always see that it
is fresh and clean.—.T. A. Conover.
• Milk Front Individual Cows.
Twenty years ago milkmen were
greatly bothered by customerswho de-
manded the milk from one cow regu-
larly. %bey thought this insured a
more uniform sample of milk. That ,
idea is now pretty well exploded. ,
Herd milk, or the milk of all the cows i
thoroughly mixed, is safer and more
uniform in the long run than the milk I
et any single cow.—Rural New Yorkeat)
ews
lip