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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1900-3-15, Page 4MEI 8 ROM! N.1,if 10EN STRANGE WINTER. SCepyright, leDte by the Author.] CHAPTER VI, gefe. HAND OF THE DEAD.. Mrlaawson ceased speaking and fixed Ilia attention npora his Gompanion. Mary also turned her clear eyes upon the law- yer and awaited what he might say text. ,To oy the least of it, his reMark was unexpected, "1 may say at once that I did not malte this will of Captain Conway," he said in polite and strict- ly profeasional accepts. 'It was Made by some person, unknown to me and handed to me by Captaiu Conway, seal- ed: ae you see it, with instructimis that should necessity arise I should at once iteek yon out, break the seals in your presence and make you acquainted with the contents." • ••1 am quite at your service," said 111ary tremulously, 'rbe lawyer at once broke the seals and drew front the long, tough envel- ope a folded paper. Mary at, with hands quietly clasped in her lap. wait- ing Mr Mannington cast his eye over the writing, frowned, bit. his. Up, glanced at the girl widow apprehen- sively and then coughed nervously. You have no idea—I should say—I mean''---- he stammered. Mary looked up, "Will you read it?' she suggested. "I have no idea what is in it, but I shall be surprised at noth- ing Captain Conway bad strange ideas on some subjects, '' Very strange." murmured Mr. Law- son. who gathered from the lawyer's manner that the will contained -nothing of pleasant import to the lady, "I will read it, said the lawyer, then coughed again and began L, Edward Conway, captain of the S. S. Arilthaina., being of sound mind on this the llth day of July, 15—, declare this to be my last will and testament. All and any proPartY of which I die possessed I give and bequeath to my nephew, Howard Conway, to be abso- lutely and entirely at his own disposal. "EDWARD CONSN'A.Y. the presence of Henry Challerton, John Walker.' For a few moments the widow and the shipowner were too much surprised to speak. Of the three Mary was the ntost composed. Mr. Lawson was, how- ever, the first to break the silence. "Yon were perhaps otherwise provid- ed for. Mrs. Conway?" he said gently. Mary shook her head. "No; I am ()lithely unprovided for," she replied. "But—but such a willis preposter- ous Kennington.. is there no possibil- ity of upsetting it ?" •••Wills have been upset, of course, and will be again," said the lawyer, guard- edly "In this case, however, such a course would be costly—and uncertain. Mrs. Conway was living with her lane - band np to the tinie of his leaving home, she is living under his roof DOW, and it would be diffieult to prove that the nephew had possessed or exercised any undue influence or that the testator was not of sound mind at the time of making the will. You, for instance, conld not come forward to throw any doubts upon his sanity from your own observation, for the -jury and the public would alike ask, what were you about to send out a vessel like the Aritshaana in charge of a person whom you believed to be more or less of a lunatic." • You could not say it, " put in Mary, rising to her feet. "Nor shOuld I wish it. Geutlemen. you need not trouble about ute-1 dare say Mr. Howard Con- way will not turn me out of this house rweile my mother is so ill—or until she is gone where there is no need of any refuge el svihl conntannicate with him at once, tiaid Mr Manftington. "It is not at all likely, especially as he in- herits everything. which must be a great if Did unexpected thing for him,' he added "Then L need not detain you any' longer, said Mary, holding out her hand • Mr Lawson possessed himself of it. "Forgive me. my dear young lady," he said, kindly, "but have you means for the moment? If yon have illness in the house. and you spoke of your Mother"- -My mother is very ill, very, very 6aid Mazy "She was an invalid reetenid them Weil, see had wished,. louged, prayed, to be free, and her wishes, loegiegs and prayera bad beep beard alai answered, She was free, she wits a white slave tio longer, she would never again reelize with 0 thrill of shadderinbe leorror that she had sold her - eel!' into liondage, inte the WOrSt 0I1C1 most hateful' kin7V of bondage, that she Mel eold not only herself, her body. but, to ail Inteets and purposes, her veva, soul. Wela it was all over now. She was herself again. accountable to,no one for lier actions, she WaS free of that on bearaine chain, of that hilted union. 'ehe worldly dross for which she had ememliced herself bad fallen away like the 'finite M. the chain of fate, and she would hove to begin at the lowest rung, of the ladder again. Still she would be content. Every crnst of bread that she earned would be her own, and sweet would be the taste thereof—it would be better, far better to sweep a crossing and to live content- edly on the pence earned by sweeping it vela than to live in luxury earned by the loss of all her womanly self respect There came to her mind more times then once a verse out of the Greet Book —"Better a dinner of herbs where love is than a stalled ox and hatred there- with." • Hove true, how truel And yet the poor soul above struggling with the. repids of life and deal)) had never seen the beanty of the dinner of herbe. She had longed to be as the stalled ox, be- lieving that the smoothest pathways must always be the most pleasant and the best for us. Well, she had enjoyed her brief spell of the stalled ox to the frill, and it was probable that she would slip aniay over the great Minim: with - nut ever knowing that there had been hatred at all And if that should be so, Mary Conway felt that she would be able to tace all the rest of her life fear- lessly and with a thankful spirit. Late in tbe evening a messenger ar- rived bringing a letter by hand from Mr. Lawson. DEAR Mac. CONWAV—it said—I do not ask, 1 do not seek to know, the reason that your hus- band left so strange and almost inhuman a will'behind him. It is enough f.P.: me that you are a woman, alone, young and in trouble. Will you accept the incloseas a gift from one who knew your husband for many years and who liked and respected him? I beg you to accept it as kindly as it is offered to you. Sim cerely yours, anNRY LAWSON. Inclosed with this letter was a check for 00• It would be hard to 'describe Mary's feelings thet night The kindness, the distant dignity of ths few words, im- pressed her deeply, She never thought of refesieg the kindly gift, so vselcorne to save her from unheard of horrors. She only longed fiercely and passionately that she might, nay could, would, go and tell this rnan everything, tell him the whole story -of her marriage and the, cause pure and simple why Captain Conway had left a cruel and eel:lolly en - just will bellied him, a sinister blow to strike her in a vulnerable part and from which she had no chance of de- fending herself. She went to her bed that night with a fixed intention of going in the morning to seek out Mr. Lawson and to tell him everything, with a determination that she would justify herself in his eyes. But morning brought different feel- ings. in the early dawn a change for the worse came over Mrs. Hamilton, and the nurse celled Mary from her bed, believing that the end was nigh at hand. And as she stood by the side of that poor. fliclsering, feeble light. so soon to biirn out into nothingness so far as concerned this world, a voice came to her telling her to do nothing, to say nothing—the voice of a strange, marl- oes, wise instinct. which said: "You are free. Don't fetter your freedom by Mon bling about the past. With good in- tentions you did what you thought and believed was for the best. The sacrifice was made, served its purpose. and you are released. Do nothing. Accept the kindness of this stranger, take it as it is offered and endure all in silence. At the very worst his suspicion. if he has one, is only a suspicion. No good can come to you by blackening the memory of a dead man. If you speak, you will but save your fair fame at the expense of his. If he has been ungenerous to you, so spiteful as to aim a blow at you from his sailor's grave, do not you retaliate by striking back at him now. Best, far best. to stiffer in silence; wisest, far winest, to cut yourself off as completely as may be from the mistaken past, to when I married, hut the news of Cap- Li,_ mon life efresis on your OW13 lines and woald send some one to take poasaisaicai at 11 ,o'clock on the following Monday morninetoshe would be Yeed.Y. and that ehe etmell prefer to giVe up possession, IS she would be keeling the house then Greatiento ber 'relief, Howard Con way did not think it necuesary to ap- pear himself, but sent a young solicitor who treated lite, outgoing widow with a curious mixture of condolence and ad- miration such as would have made a woman who knew the world better ex- eeediugly angry Upon Mary, however, this manner had no effect She had just passed through the great tragedy of her life. she was face to 1000 with a great question, "how to live in the future," and a flippant young man with rather bad manners hocl PO more effect upon her than she might have felt from a gnat humming te and fro in the air. She took nothing with her excepting such things as, had been absolutely her own, bonat with her own money, earn- ed by her own labor. Howard Conway's. friend Wa$ astonished to find all the lit- tle woman's treasures which she left ly- ing about, "But snrely these are your own per- aonal belongings, Mrs. Conway," he ex- claimed in his surprise, pointing to va- rious photographs in pretty frames which stood on 'a little table near the drawing room window. • "No; they were not mine," she re- plied, "They all belonged to Captain Conway, and of course they go with the house." "But, my dear lady," and here he grew quite affectionate in tone, "surely you are interpreting the letter of the will too literally. My friend Flowierd tain Conway's death came upon her without warning and brought on anoth- er stroke. a very serious one. We have not much hope of her. '' aer voice dropped away to what was little more titan a Whisper Mr, Law- son kept hold of her hand and murratir- ed consoling little phrases, Mary, how- ever. was quite dry t;yed Her grief and despair were too deep for ordinary ways of eorrow. "You must let 1130 see you through this," he said at last. "Your husband was 111 the service of iy company for many years, and you most not hesitate to take from me what is neceseary to tide you over this un - looked for time. Have you formed any idea or plans yet? But no—of course you have not. Who Was to expect that such a will would be left behind?" Mary looked upon him with lier won- derful clear eyes. "I earned my living for years before I was niarvied," she Held, simply, "and I shall be able to earn it again. emit now. of eoteree. I am all out of reckening and can set aboet nothing. Yon are very kind, Mr. Law- son, but I have scene money left. '' "I evil] supplement it," he E.,aid, hur- riedly, and tore himself away, unable longer to bear the dumb pain of her eyee and mouth. At last she wee left alone, alone to thinit oVei' the end to which her fine marriage bad brought her, to think that here she was in IS house Which she had thought her ioNerl, but which had been left away from lier to one whom her husband had always professed to hate fiercely, tiennitese except for the few ends which site bappened to /have drawri out of the baek bel'ote the news however, seemed teat if Mr. Conway of the foundering of the Arikhania had as free as is possible from the influences which have dominated yoU, hurt you and poisoned your better self hereto- fore, - Mary Conway knew tbat her instinct was a wise one, that the strange myste- rious voiee was that of a friend in the best sense of tbe word. She made up her mind during those few terrible hours of watching that she would follow the advice which had come to her from ber inner self, that she would bury the, past and begin a new life with the day that she turned her back upon the home of her brief Married life, the house which had been in no sense a home to "No; tem/ were not mine," she replied. Conway is the last man in the world to wish to be hard on a wensan—a young woman, his uncle's widow. He will not expect or wish you to leave such purely personal things as these behind.' "I prefer it," said Mary "Most ladies in your circumstances would have stripped the hoese," he per- sisted, "and would have left nothing but the bare chairs and tables." "Perhaps. but I ain not one of those) ladies, and besides I wish to take node? ing away to remind me of—of"— "That I once lived here," she„daid. with a sudden flash of -feeling, tlee first that she had shown, "Oh, well, of corirse if that is the way the"—he hedebeen on the point of saying "the caf jnmps." but broke the homely siinile off short—"if that is how you feel, Mrs. Conway, it is no use my suggesting anything else." "But it is very kind of you to feel an interest in me," said Mary, a smile breaking over her face for the first time. "I shall never forget it. I thank you.' A few minutes later she hacl passed out of the -house and away from her old life forever. She had made her plans carefully with a view to furthering her resources to the uttermost—she had taken a single room in a respectable house in Blooms- bury. She was not destitute, for she had still nearly 00 to call her own. Mrs. Hamilton's life had been insnred for a sum which had almost covered the cost of ber illness and burial, and Mary had bought her mourning with a keen eye to economy; in fact, she bad spent ancl meant to. spend nothing that she could, possibly avoid. She kneiv that, if need be. she could live for a year on her little store. and she knew, too, ',that it was a totally different thing to seek a living free and independent, as lie was, to seeking it while tied and hampered with an invalid mother. But she did not find it an easy thing to drop into a pleasant, conefortable po- sition, such as she wauted, by no means. For several weeks she teamped to ancl fro, here and there, always seeking something more or less indefinite, a something which she found it difficult to describe in words. Then she pulled hereelf up short and began to think the situation out in a different way, and she came to the con- clusion that she COUICt not go on in this vague, indefinite way; that she must mato up her mind to follow a certain course, and she must follow it. The question was what.,She went oyer all the openings whicshe had already tried to follow up, and she canto, after niudh anxioes cogitation, to the con- clusion that there were only left to her now—either of which she might take as her metier and train basalt' to lleconie proficient in—nursing and typewriting. She inquired fully into the merits and demerits of both She found that she could properly qualify for a nurse temlee a training of at least three years. Even than she Would not have got to the ton of •the tree, and it was more than likely; that long before three yeale bad gone by she would have, broken down, for she Was uot physically or conetitutionally an especially strong person. If all the tales she heard of hospital or infirmary training were tree, she felt that a month or six weeks would about show her how fruitless it Was l'Or her to attempt a career of which mageificent health and Pere° aro the verv first lea.:11cisoiNt•erst.artitn, EVENING WRAPS. Cloaks of Various Riada Far lOve • big Wear - For eveuing wraps, which are fcc- quently of great elaboratiou, plush, btu cade, satin, velvet, panne and cloth am all employed in light, mole= and mire shades and even in black. If a wonian goes out a great deal in the eveehtg, she meet have more than one wrap, as whet is ealtable to accompeny dentitoilet will not harinouize with elaborate full dress, A long, loose redingote attractively trim. EVENING SLEEVES, med will anawer for the less !important occasions, but for large balls or the opera a wrap or cape of more pretentious de- scription is required. Dark fur on light colored nauterial is much liked: as decora- tive effect at present on both simple,and elaborate wraps. Tbe richest wraps are lined and trim- med with mousseline de sole. When used. as a lining, this material is shirred. gath- ered and plaited until it is a mass of fluffiness and is really very warm. .At present it is pref,cered to a plain Inc lin- ing and is sometimes more costly. The illustration given today shows some models of sleeves for evening gowns. The first, of velvet or panne, is of half length and is trimmed with embroidered galloon. which forms Louis Quinze bows, one of which retains a' fall of pearls at the el- bow. The edge is finished with a frill of gauze. The second, of guipure de veuise, Is open on the outside and laced by nar- row ribbon forming loops at the elbow and shoulder. 'The third is composed of a bow of spangled tulle held by a cluster or flowers, a drapery falling from the bow across the top of the arm. JUDIC3 CAOLLET. THE WARDROBE. Loint Evening Wirkipm—Their style and Decoration, The favorite form for evening wraps of the more elaborate order is that of the full length cape curved in at the back and held to the figure by ribbons tied around the waist. There are no sleeves, of course, aud the lower corners of the front are largely rounded off so as not to interfere with walking. A eaptichon which may be put on or detached at pleasure is the usu- al adjunct, and almost invariably there is a high, flaring collar which protects the neck and much of the head. On each side of the front, between the lining and the goods, a sort of pocket is often insert- ed to serve as a muff. It is better to avoid heavy trimming for ?rl 17Y; \ IP :11 ;ill: C^Iiikg7T Ft Nb oibuilieg , HOW TO GROW ASPARAGUS. Ir8iti01,1e ;tents ly'n)e tite .51Xtri:et Grolvel. anti tise 14.ome (Zitedeuer. Asper:teem is one of tlio.te garden f.) FOODS AND FERTILITY, ver Fertile itegess anirstrome :chteke. Correct Peetiing is iSq:Pe$S44,1.7. 1 think 1 anol not wreeg when 1 state that 60 pee cent of all poultry keepers — end even ',poultry raisers . (there ;le a clinierenee hil thee() two) do net QV Will not upderstand the importence of good. feeding and of the best food. We can say that good food is half the battle. Geed, feeding Mereasee the .feetilite, 11' 11110 poor' feeding end overfeeding And the folloeving day Henry Lawson received this note' I thank you with all my heart for your kind and generous gift. 311110 ,be my salvation arid will enable 1110 to start myself arresh, I am quite alone in the world now My mother died al, 6 o'olook this afternoon. Yours with deep gratiOlde, .111Al1Y CONWAY. 011A.Frn LIFE ON NEW LINES; As soon as she caned be quietly and decently laid away, Mrs HamiTton was carried pee of the pretty villa in which she had enjoyed her brief spell of pries - polity, mid then Mary infule her prelim rations for turning Iser back upon her old life forever, She was not obliged to leave the house with Melee haste, for Howard/ Conteey wrote tO her ae soon as bellowed the news of les inheritance, telling her that the house Was Melte at her disposal for a few weeke, until indeed she had time to make hor arrangements.' Mary. vegetables' whieh tire alwat's of'l iller- est both to the pH imte gTOWel' tile market gardener. A brier statement of the principal Poluts in its colture 11) thia seaaoti, when itiony are planning for new plantings iu spring, is found appropriate be; Vick' s elagaelne and is presented as follows: Not: many years since the preparation of ,11 piece of ground for raising asparagus, what with extra deep spading or trenching and filling' the ground with a great amount of millilitre and bones, was con- sidered a rormidat le undertaking, and consequently but small beds of the plant were cultivated, and the produce was considered as a luxury rather than a staple culinary vegetable. The more dectease it. Let us get into the real facts of this matter. It is a WP11 known fact that wild animals are not so fertile as tame ones of the same. kind. This is not only on aecount of the better conditions under which the tante ones liven but especielly on ac- count of the better food they receive. Look at our poultry. lame' many more eggs a domestic hen lays tban the wild fowl, which means a greater produc- tion of young, because every fertile egg, if incubated, is a chicken. Doeot a farmer expect his rye to produce on poor ground as .neuch grain as it will on rich land? How often does ono read: "I do not get many eggs from my fowls. What is the matter? I feed rational and seamier treatment that them enough," In such cases the has since prevailed bas caused the cul- amount given is all right but perhaps tivation of this lion 1155111 vegetable to the material is wrong. be ;meetly extended NotwithstandingFertility is stimulated by the quan- but few private gardens of suburban tity and quality of food. Every indl- residents and innumerably fewer of vidual needs a certain amount o f ma - farm or country dwellers produce tile terial to live on. The surplus is need - ;crop, and the large markets demand a ed to form the materials that every greater supply than they receive. hiving being needs to produce descend - The different varieties in cultivation ants and to feed them, because this is under different names are all of the the sole purpose of the meistence of an same species, the difference.s in charge- animal. This means that tbe surplus 7 ter being the result of peculiar soils will be tra.nsposed into egg and sperm and culture and of breeding and selee- forming materials. Exercise, that tion. With good culture oue may be means1 muscular work, takes away sure of good results with any of them. from this surplus, and a part is also Plants are easily raised from seeds, needed to produce heat to keep the body warm. Poultry stops laying wben the wentber is cold and the food is not sufficient; hence the breeder has to supply enough food to keep "up the heat that is required in the fowl and allow a surplus to prodeme normal eggs. For this reason poultry eats from about the middle of November until March about three times as much as It does during the summer month. First, food must be of sufficient quan- tity and correct quality to supply the body with the material necessary to keep the hen alive and enough surplus , food to supply the hen first with ma- terial to produce muscle work; second, heat; third, the materials needed for the maintenance of the species. It is easy to understand that when poor food is given or when not enough material is fed tne surplus is insuffi- cient and there will be almost no mate- rials to produce eggs and sperm. It le no wonder that poorly fed chicks do not lay. Sour, rotten, fermenting or fermented, tiaoldy or frozen food Should not be fed to fowls. It Is Inju- rious in every instance. But It is not alone poor food that is the cause of Infertility, for so also are incorrect foods and excessive feeding. For in- stance, too much animal food produces many eggs, but with thin albumen. Too much (especially watery) green food, like turnips, has the same effect, anti' It both decrease the fertility, particulare in the early winter months. Therefora take care that you do not feed too much -animal food, turnips, beets, car- rots, niangel wurzels or cabbages. Iis elmine and summer, on account of the hot weather aud the greater natural fertility, the bad effects of Mich foods are greatly overcome. Not less injuri- ous are the so called egg stimulants. 1 .call all of these preparations worth- less, being made for the sole intention of getting people's,money. Feed right, and you will have healthy stock.' Experience has proved that all kinds of grain food in any form mixed with salt have a considerable influence on the sexual and egg producing organs and tbat all food grown irk dry, hot weather and also food that is hard and dry from being kept a great length of time decrease the fertility, while rich, nourishing, succulent pasture food -- green clover, green rye, . green peas, etc.--thereases it very much. The in- creased fertility of eggs, In tbe spring Is largely on account of this food. Fer- tility is also Influenced by the manner ,in which the materials are prepared. Warm food is injurious. It weakens the bowels and influences the sexual orgfuss badly.—C. Boudewijns in Reli- able Poultry ;Journal. and those who so desire epn produce their own plants by sowing the seeds early in spring in al piece of free, fri- able, rich soil, sowing the seeds ID drills about 11/2 incites 111 depth and the rows 15 or 18 inelles apart. Sow the seeds thinly an inch or two apart. To get strong, plants a bou half of them should be thinned mit so they will stand two or three imams apart. Floe ' or cul- tivate and keep the ground cleat) through the season:, Good 1 -year-old plants of one's .9W11 raising are. on the whole, the most. desirablefor plapring out. but if one buys plants. and espe- eially if they have to be brought from a distance. experience has shown that strong 2 -year plants are more reliable than youuger ones. , A light soil will produce a crop eats lier in the season than a heavy one, and the market grower should, if pos- sible, avail himselleof this fact. How, ever, any good garden soil, if properly cultivated, 'wilt produce good aapara- gus. In the case of a market gardener intending to plant a considerable area be should select ground that has been under clean cultivation and that Is free from weeds and weed seeds. In the these wraps, as it renders them burden- fall preceding plantingtheland can he some. If it is not desired to trim them plowed deep and lc -ft in a rough state all around, the decoration may be placed during whiter. Early in spiting or as soon as tbe grouud is in suitable condi- tion to work give a beavy dressing of old, well rotted stable manure and plow it in. blarrow the surface until It is smooth and tine; then with a plow open furrows through the plot of ground about 'four feet apart. On sandy soils the distance may be great- er and on heavy lands somewhat less. The furrows should be opened to a depth of at least nine inches. In the bottom of the furrow the plants are to be set front three to four feet apart. It is best to take some pains in set- ting the plants, and the best culti- vators draw up a little mound of soil with the hand and set the plant on it, spreaSing out the roots in all direc- tions. Then draw on a little soil, enough to bold the plant in place. Aft- erward a portion of the soil on each side of the row that was thrown out in making tbe furrow can be turned in by means of a one horse plow from which tbe moldboard has been rensoved. Tbe plants are to be set so tbat the crown shall be from four to six inches below the level surface. In light soil a deeper covering is desirable than in heavier grourtd. Careful cultivation is to be given the plants and tbe ground kept entirely clean. In making small' gar- den beds the work can be done with spade and hoe. In the garden it is a good plan to 'make narrow beds five feet wide, al- lowing a space of two feet between the beds for a walk, tbe rows to run lengtbwise of these bede ttvo feet aptut, three rows to a lied, the outer rows one foot from the margin. As many as these narrow beds as may be needed can be nsacle side by side. By preference, they should run . north and south. An asparagus plantation shotild be well supplied annually with well/rot- ted stable trianure or mineral fertilizers distributed in furrows run eneh side of a row. The application of stable manure, ground bone, bonenteni, acid phosphate and muriate of' sulphate of polash can be made to best advan- tage early intim spring before growth starte. Nitrate of soda Is an excellent fertilizer for asparagus, and it has been found best,. to apply It at theee different times during the season—ear- ly, or in elarela and again in May and, finally, after the mem line been gather- ed. No shoots are to be cut for use or market until the spring of the second yea la and then only the strongest spears are to be cut, Vairtetiem of bettnee. For forcing purposes Grand Rapids of the loose growing and Tennia Ball VISITING GOWN, at the edges of the two fronts. The in- side of the collar mnst also be fully trim- med. Lace mingled with fur is always elegant. Light linings are preferred, and even when the material of the cape is cloth white satin or white mousseline de soie is usually chosen as a lining. The cut shows a visiting costume of otter velvet. It is a princess gown, dos- ed at the left side and slightly draped at the waist. Large clasps of elaborate metal embroidery fasten the gown. `rhe tight sleeves are plaited at the op and have metal npplications at, the waist, and the collar ieeilso enriched with metal plic;ations. The hat of pearl gray velvet is trimmed with otter velvet rind has a metal motif in front which retains a fan aigret of pearl gray silk. JUnta ClIOLLTY.r. Sheen Voi the Nionigey. A Washington police court, semi The Green Bag; had occasion' to pass upon . . the momentous question whether the pro- prietor of a reoekey can be compelled to furnish it with shoes. On the Complaint of some benevolent idiot Pietro Morello, by profession a hand orgamist, was haul- ed into the temple of justice' to answer a charge -of cruelty to animals, 10 that he was utilizing a barefooted monkey in the collectiee of his preearious inconie. 2. fter O muerte research into the Mee of domes tic relatioris the court reached the con; or Ilawsou's Hothouse Of the cabbage beading sort have given tlie most satis- faetory results at the Michigan sta- ti°A13. 11 Seasons, Halt Century, Landreth elusion that Signor [Morello was under 1 Earliest, Italian Ice, SImpson's Curled no legal obligation to furniah Ole friend and Wonderful itre recommended fca, {ugly dismissed. ontdoor growing. with footgear, and the case was accord., A Prize Pullet. This Mandsome Barred Plymouth Rock pullet was exhibited at Pitts. „ burg, 1808, and 'Toronto, 1899, taking first In both cases. She is the Prole erty of Fisher's Island farm, Fisher's Island, N. Y. The Illustration is from The American Fancier, Se1eCif0311. 11 you noticed that a few of yout hen did better as layers last season than the ()there, place them by them- selves and purchase a fell blooded eOcif to place With them. You will find that all the pullets from WS flock WIII he much better than the succeeding once - This Is the way to breed tip a Clock et %nein). birds.—Indlana Fanner.