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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1906-11-22, Page 6o+040. +0+04-04-0-+eset-o-..leee+o-4+0+0-0-0+0.+<e+04-0, of that preeentatien, thus brought back ito Iiiiii—the moment when Atriella had ilashy--recalls to Mtn else) the convic- looked so middle-agech and CeCilia so 1 , time that lias been stewing Upon him • since yesterday, of the ;pore than wis- , dem, the abselute iniperatiye duty on his I part, of avoiding a repetition of that comparison which lead forced itself upon • his notice in the Church. of San Miniato. I "You had better come," persists Bing ^I. still, like a magnanimous child holding '• out lialf hie Cake to his friend; whether, I• like the same child, with a semi -hope that , it may be mimed, or whether, on the other liand, ie may have crossed' his • ilt)nlyi einidchleitall,elliscbtes'el‘i•NloTati;:toel itleteN-Nia.:t evetiresei aretotNrvsoinvi pi sriOeveesci kieeo-e-ce+o-+ .0 -e -o-4 0-4-0-4-0+0+0-e-Ged>+-o+.0±0-4-04-0-4-04-04-04-0+40+. h ' OR, A SAD LIFE STORY • CHAPTER VIII.—(Continned). . , A sudden instinct, with awa wins will has nothing to do, makes him flash a look back •at Mre. lee Me:reheat, esif to gauge the effect produced upon tier by his betrothed; and, following her glance, he finds that it is resting on Cecilia. She thinks that he is engaged to Cecilia. The mistake is'intolerable to him, and yet a second's reflection tells him that it is a natural one, In a second lie sees his Amelia as she pre.- vsents herself to a strange eye. Miss Wilson is only thirly-ene; but upon her has already come that set solid look of middle age, which oOertakes some wo- men before they are well over the bor- ders of youth, and which other wmnen =wig° to stave off MI they are within near hail of forty. Yes; the mistake is quite a natural ene. Most. people would suppose that the showy Cecilia, still fairly youthful, and with so many ob- vious and well -produced "points," mist ha his choice; and yet, as 1 have said, the idea- that anyone should credit him with her edeiership is intolerable to him. "Here she is!" he cries precipitately. "The one to the right side, the other is her sister; may I—may I present them to you?" Perhaps it is his irritated fancy that dictates the idea, but it seems to him as if he detected a sort of surprise in Mrs. Le Merchant's face, when he effects the intreduction he has proposed, and to which she accedes courteously, after a pause 01 hesitation about 418 long as had followed his inquiry of Elizabeth as to their address. Five minutes later they have all saun- tered out again on the terrace, and Bur- goyne is again leaning on the wall; but this time he has no fear of hearing of Bayswater, for 11 18 Elizabeth who is beside him. Since last he looked at it half an hour ago, a sort of glorification has passed over the divine view. Down Where the river twists through the plain country, there is a light dainty mist, but the mountains have put on their fullest glory. They are not green, or brown, or purple, or blue; but clad in that ineffable raiment woven by the sun, that defies our weak vocabulary to provide it with a name. A little snow -chain lies on the sun -warmed neck of Morello, and along the tops of tlie further Apennines, right against the acute blue of the heavens, lies a, line of denin snow. that looks like a fleece -son cloud g as well. "She began to .say it, "My dear boy," returns Ain; this lime "12 Or Bis, Piazza d'Azeglio?" in- with a testinesse handsomely streaked • gitlres Byng. . with irony, "you are really toe obliging; as what 12 or 12 131s?" epplies his but, even if I wished it—Whiei I do not— friend, . With a somewhat obviovely in- or veil if they wished it—which they clo tentional obtuseness; but Byng is far too not—it is in this case quite impossible, thoroughly healthy and happy a young as I "am engaged to go Shopping with animal thia morning to take effense Amelia." • Probably the blow is not a knock -down hi mean Miss Le Merchant's address," one to Byng; at all eVents he bears the he answers, explaining' es amiably as if rebuff with his habitual healthy good he had not hotel perfectly aware that it temPer; gees off le put on a smarter was only "cussednees" that had dictated lie Burgeyne thinking no such ire - the query,• prevenient in his toilette necessary, There is a slight pause. Burgeyne etrolls away to the Angle-Americain, • would like to answer that be does net 11 141 true that he has covenanted to 05- remember—would like still more to cord Amelia to the shop for Cane:agent ensWer that he does not see what bust- ware, though there is no particular reO- tess it can be of Byng's; but, since he is son why, had he so Wished it, the pur- not destitute of common sense, e chase of the dinner service that is to second's reflection shows him that he grace their Bayswater symposia might 'has no good reason for either the lie or not have been deferred for twenty-four the incivility, so he replies, pretty calm- hours; and, indeed, as things turn out, ly, with his eyes still on his leading it has to be so deferred. . article: • • As he opens the doer of the Wileon's "I believe Miss Le Merchant said 12 sittingeroom, his future' father-in-law brushes past him, with eVident signs of Having- obtained the information he discomposure all over his clerical figure emoted, and finding his companion not .and spectacled face; and on entering, he conversationally disposed, Byng is mov- finds equal, if not superior, marks of up- ing away again, when lie is arrested by set equanimity on the countenances of Jim's voice, adding to the intelligence he has just given the monosyllable: - "Why What?" asks Byng, returning readily, and laughingly mimicking the intentional obleseness so lately prac- ticed on himself by the other. "Why did you osk?" - "I am thinking of paying ray respects there this afternoon., and I did not want le ring at the wrong bell." A short, silence. Jim's head is partly hidden by his Galignani. "Did Mies or Mrs. Le Merchant .ask you to call?" Byng laughs. "Both of them are as innocent of it es the babe unborn!" "You asked yourself then?" Meet snub- bing voice).Byng nods. "And she said yes?" The plural pronoun has dropped out of sight, but neither of theta perceives it. The younger man shakes his sleek head. Jim lays 'down his paper with anairof decision. "If she did not soy 'Yes'—if she sold 'No,'" he begins; with an accent of severity, "I fail to understand ---""She did net say 'No,'" interrups Byng, still half laughing, and yet red - Jesting from its journeyings, on their crests; but it is no cloud, 1101 ie there any speck upon the gigantic complete /Weil • that over -vaults town and valley mid radiant mountains. In the folds of these last, the shadows slumber; but over all the city is the great gold glory of spring. The one thing in Florence that frowns among so many smiles is the scowling Pitti, and that, from here, is invisible. Nearer to him against. the azure, stand the solemn flame-shaped cypresses arow, and beside them—as • unlike as tire to death—a band of qui- vering poplars, a sort of transparent gold -green in their young spring livery. The air is so clear that one can g.o nigh to counting the marbles an the Duomo walls. In a more transparent amber light, fuller of joy and gaiety, cannot the saved be dancing around, as in Fra Angelico's divine picture? cannot they be walking in the New Terulselem of St. John's great dream? Only in the New Jerusalem there are no galled and trembling -kneed there horses. Elizabeth. is sitting on the wall, her light flgureehs it possible that it has been in the 'world only four years lees than Amelia's solid one—half supported by one small grey hand outspread on the stone; her little fine features air tremulous with emotion, and half a tear gathered again he each 'sweet eye. As Jim looks at her, a sort of cold covetous gripe pinches his heart.e "What, a woman with whom to look at all earth's lovelinesses—with whom to convense without speech!" Even as he so thinks, she turns her head towards him, and, drawing in her breath with a long low sign, says!" "Oh. how glad I aril I did not, die be- fore 10 -day!" Her eyes are turned towards him, and yet, as once before, he realize,s that, it is not to him that either her look or her thoughts are directed. Both are alined at an object over his shoulder, and, as before, that object is Byng. Byng too has been gazing at the view. There are tears' in Ilyng's eyes also. Stephenson says some womee like a man who cries. Byng cries easily and genuinely, and enjoys it; and, as he is a remarkably fine young man, there is something piquant in the contrast bettveen his wet blue orbs and bis shoulders. AS Burgoyne rolls home that after- noon in his fiacre, as before, placed opposite Amelia, his mental' vision is no longer fixed upon a "double-berrelle(1, ceniral-flre, breech -loading gun ;" it is . fixed with a teasing tenacity .upon the figure of a smallish woinan, perennially looking, through brilliant tears, over his shoulder at eornebody else. CIIAPTER IX. "Wee It 12, or 12 Bis, Piazza shezeglior but I suppose.that I looked so broken- hearted—I am sure I felt it—that she slopped." As Jimmakes no rejoinder, he con- tinues by -and -bye: "After all, she can but send me away. One is always being sent. away" (Jim wishes he could think this truer than he does); "but now and again one is not sent, and those are the times that pay for the others! I'll risk it." There is a hopeful ring in his voice as he ends, and again a pause comes, bro- ken a third time by the younger ?rum. "Come, now, Em"—looking with a straight and disarming gooclehumor into his friend's overcast countenance— "speak up! Do you know of any cause or impediment why I should not?" Thus handsomely and fairly appealed to, Burgoyne, who is by nature a just man, begins to „put hie conscience through her paces as to the real source of his dislike to the idea of his compan- ion's taking advantage of that introduc- tion which he himself has been the means — however unwillingly—of pro- curing for him. ' It is true that Byng'e mother had adjiirecl, him, with, tears in her -eyes, to preserve her boy tithe unde- sirable acquaintances; but can be, Buie goyne, honestly say that he leaks upon Elizabeth Le Marchapt -OS iltrundesitable acquaintance for eerie -One? The result of his investigations is the discovery of how infinitesimal a share he his motives re- gard for his young friend's welfare has had. The d:seovery is no sooner made than he acts upon it. "My dear boy," he says—and to his credit says it heartily --"I see no earthly reason why you should not go; you could not make nicer friends." "Then why will not you come too?" asks Byng, with boyish generosity. The other shakes his head. "They had much rather I stayed away; they have token me en grippe." "Pooh! Nonsense! You fancy it." "I think not"—speaking slowly and thoughtfully—"I am not a fanciful per- son, nor apt, to imagine that my acquain- tancee bother their heads .about me one way or Another; but when people try their best, in the first instance, to avoid recognising you at, all, and on every subsequentoccasion endeavor to disap- pear as soon as you corrie in sight, it is not a very forced assumption that, they are not exactly geeedy for your society." This reasoning is so close thet, Byng S e for the moment silenced; and it is the other who shortly resumes: "I think it is betause r retnind them of the past; they have evidently some un- pleasant association of ideas with that past. I wonder what it, te." The latter clause is addreesed more Le himself than to 13Yhfi. "Perhaps some of them have died, no. conic to grief, and they' are afraid of your' asking after them," suggests the younger men. "On the eontrary—they are ali—one * totlete,aioutli:14upLonwhieLleinsalinfizcierle4c'e rtinerytebsg; tone of his last • remark tells her— though she doe.% not quite understand why it should—is imminent. "They are old friends of yours, •are not they? TheY • may be hurt if they tind that a, perfect stranger like Mr, tieing Is in a greatm hurry to visit them than you Ines ' Rethro.1111rgoyne's mental vision rises a picture of Elizobeth'e heavenly eyo. • wandering indifferently over the dear old feiond.'s shotilder to find its home in that • of the • perfect etraeger, hut he says ard even playfully: , "Why did not I go too? • Because 1 Was under the impression that, I was en- gaged to go with 'another lovely, being Iiiipovel,mose crockery, was I noll Lkni 1 Amelia's answer is conveyed by a ser- ies of nods and winks executed behind her sisters' bachs, which lie presently understands to imply that she desires a Private interview. 11 18 not immediately that he grasps what she is driving at, since dumb -show is often minting to the person at whom Itis aimed, though clear as day to the dumbshower. As soon, however, as he masters what her wish is, he hastens to comply with it.; and five minutes later finds them tote -a -tele in the hideous little dining -room which had been the scene of their reunion, and of many aftereneetings. "I could not say so, of course, before her," remarks Miss Wilson, as soon as they are out of earshot, or she might have insisted Imon my going, She is very unselfish sometimes; hut the feet Is, I do not think I ought to leaVe Sybilia again to -day. You see, she was alone the whole of yesterday afternoon; and when WO came back we found her lie a very love Way. She had. been reading her book of prescriptions which she has had for the last ten years bound up to- gether—and we rather dread her bring- ing it out, as she always fanaies she is going to have the disease prescribed three women that are, the room's occu- for: pants. Over the wood flre—Sybilla --Humph!" alternately roasts and freezes her ram- "And, after all, happinhes, ought notelet make one selfish, ought ite says Amelia, with a gentle sigh of abnegation, as she ruffles her pale -haired head against, his coat sleeve. "I have so much of you now—oh, so' much! --not to speak of—" "Cecilia, of course, is incapacitated by grief 7" interrupts Jim brusquely. "She will he going up anh down upon the mounteins like another fair one. But your father? " He will be at home, will he not?" ."Yes, he will be at home," replies Amelia, slowly and doubtfully, as if not finding a very satisfactory solution in this suggested arrangement; "but, as you know, it never answers to leave, father and Sybilla alone together for long. You see, he does not believe there is anything the mailer with her; he thinks that she is as well as you er I" (a gush of warm feeling tow.ords his father-in- law rushes over Jim's heart); "and though he tries to prevent lihnself.from showing it le her, yet I am afraid, poor dear, that he ts not very successful." Jim laughs. . "And to -day;" continues Amelia, "he is naturally. a. good- deal upset. ebotit Ce- cilia, and that wedding cake; it was very impertinent to send it, was not it, though she does not seem to see it? I hope'— with a wistful smile, and a repetition of the fond friction of her head against his sleeve—"that wheal you throwe me ily, and tins is one of her roasting days —Cecilia is stooping, in evident search of some object, that has been committed, or tried to be committed, to the flames. The other two are looking on with an Air of vexed interest. Sybilla, is the first to ad- dress him. "You have appeared at a. not, very happy moment," she says, with a sigh; "we have been having a family breeze; it has sent my temperature up nicely! It is 100, 100, Point 2." • The mention of Sybilla's temperature is always enough to put Jim in a rage. It is therefore in no very feeling tone that he returns: "If it were 1,000, Point 99, I should not be surprised, in this atmosphere! Good heavens, Cis, are not you hot enough al- ready?" The young lady thus apostrophized rises, with'some precipitation, and with a very heated complexion, from her knees, holding in her hand, however, the object • of her quest—a rather -charred small- parcel, done up in -white 'paper, and with a fragment of white ribbon still adherring'here ancl there to it. "Father believes so childishly," she. says, with irritated undutifulness. "You must own that it was enough to provoke him," strikes in Amelia's mild ""ideVehat was enough to provoke him? How has he shown his childishness? For Heaven's sake,. some of you explain 1" cries Jim impatiently, looking from one to the other. ' But with this request none of the three appears in any hurry to comply. There Ls a distinct pause before Cecilia, seeing that neither of her seniors shows any signs of relieving her of the burden of explanation, takes that burden upon her- se'llThe elect' is;" she says, setting her little rescued packet on the table beside her, and beginning to fan herself, 'that Mr. Dashwood, the man to whoin I was engaged, has chosen to marry. I • am sure"—with shrug—"no one has the least desire to deny his perfect right to do so; and this morning there emitted by post a bit, of 'his wedding cake I suppose he meant- it civilly; but father chose to take it es an insult to himself, and, though it was addressed to me, he threw it into the fire. I, am very fond of wedding cake; so,, as sem as father's back was turned, fished it out again!" Jim laughs, with more vigor perhaps than heartfelt amusement. "Bravo, Cis! You are a real philoso- pher! We might, all learn a lesson from you." • •• . "What, have you done with your nice friend?'1 asks Sybilla,, languidly. "Amelia, dear, this couvre-pied is slip- ping off me again. What a. sympathetic voice he has! I am sure he has been a greet deal with sick people." "I left him putting on his best tie to go out calling. No, calm yourself, Ce- cilia, not on you; it is not your turn to- day." • "Whose turn is it, then?" asks the girl, with an interest not at. all blunted by the Mortifying incident. of the cake, which, indeed, she has begun to nibble with apparent relish. JiM hesitates a second—a second dur- ing which it strikes him with a shock that be already finds a difficulty in pro- nouncing Elizabeth Le Merchant's name. He manages to evade the necessity even now by a Orcumlooutions "I believe it is the ,Plazza d'A.zegtio upon which that luMinaey is to shine' • "Is 'going to see that lovely crea- ture to. whom you introduced me yester- day?' cries Amelia, with goodeiatured enthusiasm. heard her telling him that she lived in the Piazza d'Azeglio. Oh, Jim, how pretty she is! One ought to pay for being .allowed to look at, her." Many women, whose plainness is In - 'contestable, are able to be just to their belterefavored sisters; but Amelia is more then just—she is 'lavishly generous. Burgoyne rewards hoe with on affec- tionate look—a look such as tvould make her sweor hint, besides Miss Le Mar - client, as beside Dentin's foie love, There jl are no tears in Byrnhis eyes as are fkoris11"1 4111011101','41131g4111011101',' "Sli‘elit.)°1;.'s.biel.tn s 01ieEletel.d°11Padwhe're edra,„ b1S. he twee this question next rimming— "eNicil, I would give thee moOe ten, eheeee treeeeees werearee risk's it of hie 4efeed, as the letter sits in folYllow; ein sure they would , . ',v,8 Cecilia, pensivelY, riniendflAi,a inoltri,dwingnthennoEice&nIeri-,1 come heme, hive them time, arld 1110 1,1,.Th' • es eeplertil, of the fateful cake C1c0n-shnc lips. It has struck him several times lately tliat he win have, to girt.; up good eigers, amt hike to a thurchwerden pipci end shag instead, nuf, so far, the churchwarden end the shag remain In the future. euro they would come •roundt cries Byre; sanguinely;, ridding, l'eViett could hew: been pleasanter than Mrs, Le Mar- ehant's mainter whet you presented he'r to Miss Wilson?' 'rho mention of 'Mies Wilson recalls to stiepeadel In eh., end regarding it With 0. ineltmciehe cye. "Hos elle?' "I never eesi:ect liev," "Why did nol you go too?" ineuires hulicieusly etviking in, is le her hribit, es often as she perceives that hit J1mthextr0flie1Y onPloosant' marnent younger sistee IS beginning to get too ovee—" This is a hypothesis, suggested with perhaps 'unwise frequency by poor Miss Wilson, which never fails to exasperate Jim. "If we are going to talk nonsense," he breaks in brusquely, and with no at- tempt to return or reward her caressing gesture, "1 may •xis well go." "Go to the Piazza d'Azeglio," says she coaxingly, her spirits raised by the harshness of tone of his interruption of her speech, and half persuading herself that it owes its birth to the supposition being too painful to be faced by him. Ile looks at her strangely for a mo- ment, then— "Why do you wish me to go to the • Piazza d'Azeglio?" he .asks, in astone that is no longer overtly cross, -only constrained and odd. "Why are you driving me there?" "Because I think you would like it," she answers; "because"—taking his hand eand- peesing herlips- which he feels to be trembling' a httle, very gently over the back of jt,.-'beUt.5C all through your life I want you to have exactly what you like, alwaye." ' Ho draws his hand away; not unkind- ly; but as H shoched at the humility of her action. . • • • • "That is so likely," he says, mourn- fully. (To be continued). GRIM JEST OF A DEAD MAN. tie old gentleman of 72, who during his There has just died at Belley, France, lifetime was notorious for his eccentric and miserly habits, though he was in possession of an income of $4,000. • His funeral was attended by a large num- ber of relatives', who were astonished to discover only a few coppers in the house after the funeral. The will was then opened, and it read as follows: "My Dee utielatives,—I am afraid you are going rd be disappointed. I know that gene of you have any sort of affection for me, and that if you come to my funeral it will be in the hope of dividing' lip betWeen you whatever I mayeledve behind me. I now inform you that I have left ne money whatever. 'I Sank the whole of my fortune scale years ago in a lire annuity. All, the Money that remained over and above what I spent of the annuity I have given away or burned, in order that you ehould not have it. I hope this will be a little surprise for you." A search revealed, however, $7,500 worth of annuity stock, the coupons of which appeered to have remained un - aid; but on going to the Dank to have these emipans cashed, the helm dis- covered that the coupons had been paid, Init ll the speCial request of the old gentleman, wlio had giVen a Sena. rate receipt for moll coupon, they had not been cancelled.' "This is only a little serwrise I am keeping baok for my heirs," he said. It appears that on the occa,sion of the annual village festivel this year the old gentleman deliberately burned $10,000 worth of bank notes, which he feand 110 had been unable to *Rend. PURE Is an Absohee Necessity for the Preservation of Our Well-being. CEYLON GREEN TEA. POOltiVely "Ai Pure Tee Witholt Any Adulteration Whateoever' Lead packets only. 40e, 500 and 60a per lb. At all gr00073, MINE11. *ININIMMEMINIIIIIIOSIMMIMMMI.01•••• 4. tAbout the Farm 4.4.+++++4++++++4+++:t • SILO ECONOMY. Up to 1895 I had been feeding my dairy herd •clover and timothy hay, stover, straw, etc., and pasturing dur- ing sunnner witil corn meal; wheat bran and middlings, Oil meal, etc., and had found that the greater the variety ef feeds employed the better, writes Mr. J. P. Gearhart. But about that time my attention was attracted to .silage and ef- ter .studying the question well, I huilt a round- silo 14x22 feet, located beside the barn floer and 8 feet below ,ffie level f -f this floor. It cost, $42 and $40 for work and lumber. which I furnished., 1 have never had any trouble keeping the 'silage, except the trifling amount that speoils around 'the sides of the stone wall at the top and bottom. From this experience, 1 suggest that the stone work be as liltle exposed internally es possible; it is not as good as wood. I usually feed 20 pounds to each cow, morr/Ing and night, with hay et noon and about, 8 pounds bran and middlings mixed half and half for cows in full milk. In contrasting silage with other feeds • I believe the former produces about one- fifth more milk than dry feed, but will not make any more butter, the milk be- ing thinner. The seine result is notice- able when pasture is compared with dry feed. The cattle are,. hoewever, kept in nicer condition, their coats being softer and smoother and their digestions bet- ter. I can save at least three cents a day on end] cow fed silage. The only difference in managing corn ler silage and for grain is that the seed- ing is more liberal. The same kind of land is selected; its preparation and man- agement the same. Barnyard manure is preferred as a fertilizer, six tons to the aci.e; a surface dressing of 25 bush- els lump is also given. The variety of corn chosen is a large fodder variety, such as teaming, which matures before frost. 11 18 plantedwith a corn ph-mter, ten quarts to the acre about May 10. When the kernels reach the glazed state ihe cutting begins. 'Each of two men cuts two rows at a time and throws the stalks in small armfuls. Two low down wagons with one team and two men do the drawing. economy since it, can be pushed when necessary; a smaller size cannot. One team and eight men can harvest and store 20 tons a day if the haul is not very long. Experience teaches me that deep, small silos are much better than large, shal- low ones. Round silos are cheaper and more satisfactory than square ones, be- couse there is less wall space and upper surface to the size. BRISTLES. The sews should be bred early so that the pigs will come in thne to .make good growth. Whim, of your brood sows farrowed a large litter last, spring. She always has a big litter. She is an old standby; she is the leind thetenakes the pig business certain; she is the hind that peys„her board. When you .select, Young ,sows for ereeding purposes, pick out her pigs; thet•e is lots of "good 'MeV ire doing that sort of thing. • • Exercise is nece.ssery for breeding stock, .and they should be allowed to run in the open fields, and lots until the cold weather, when they can be brought to the pens and allowed to run in roomy yards on fine days. They should be largely fed on nitro- genous foods,' such as promote growth and stamina. • Wheat bran and middlings, fed in moderate quantities, together with skim and buttermilk, should be fed, and growth and frame rather than fat pro- duced. Some corn -stalks, roots, pumpkins, etc., fed in limited quantities, will also be rellehed and tend to balance the ra- tion. A little corn and oars fed at times!' also make a good feed, but the less ex- pensive foods should be used, if pose sb eri•'erill°11Ye fattening hogs son corn, roots, pumptdoe, etc. hould he red lib - When fed on •oorn alone the ration, is too carbonaceous. There is more danger of cholera and disease. Correctives in the way of charcoal, ashes, salt and sulphur should be kept in the feeding pens and yards. When engaged before kllling, hogs' usually bring better prices than when{ taken to market at the mercy of Inc buyers. The pens for the "store" hogs shouldf be put in order, cleaned, whitewashedh. it necessary, where lice may be. Spraying with kerosene emuldion wilil he found a sure way of ridding the pens': erTahlel wpeisntsdocs shouldbe put in and!, plaees where drafts and cold wind cant. gel in should be repaired. Sheeting with tarred paper and rough( boords will be an inexpensive way of' making the pens habitable. FARM NOTES. There are farmers' sons in towns and cities squeezing out a scanty, unbalanc- ed ration as second-rate professionals, who could have made the farm pay largo dividends. No matter how many winters have, passed over one'shead, nor how many of one's oldtime friends have passed away, nor how many changes that touch a tender spot has been made, it! is best to keep one's eyes to the front, and lepep up with the progress of the' world. ykL Aexperience in increasing' my yield, of wheat from six bushels per acre in 1899 to 80X in 1001 has convinced ine that for large crops of wheat the ground must be worked up thoroughly on top' like a garden seed bed and have a solidi g bottom, writes a correspondent. This,' with a good fertilizer, gives good results. Almost without exception late, plowing brings poor crops of wheat. A study of the needs or soils In re- spect to fertility shows that heavy sods rotting in the ground are the factor, most to be desired. In various ways, they secure to the land the power to! produce well when cropped. No one matter is or meater imporian'de than; improvement in the growth of grass and clover seed, and if the needed gain i11. this direction were secured, our agri- cultural prosperity would be far greater., Much land is drawing chiefly upon its 'stock of avellable fertility that has been1. accumulated for centuries, and much' other land has already passed the point of profitable cropping. LIVE STOCK NOTES. It takes longer and costs more tol make up a pound of loss than it does' otosdiedit five d evnepioonus.nds of gain under fav- rabi There is such a thing as having (hel horse' stalls too wide. This is,.a temp lotion to the horses to try to ?oil; tha • means trouble. Not more than four feet to the stall is a good rule. It is acknowledged among dairymen. that a heifer's first milking peeled largely determines her future capacity as a milker. If the first period be short, .she will have established a tendency lo• go dry earlier than if that period had been prolonged. • For this reason, af young cow shoWd be kept in milk. 081 long as ;possible. Especiel care should lee used also in milking, as clean milk- ing stimulates to greater production. Clear cold sharpens the appetite et the horse as well as that of man, and so after a long journey or a stiff spell of team work; the zest for food becomes., extremely keen. This very keenness is' sometimes produotive of disastrous re- sults. Coming in thus after a long fast, -many horses eat somewhat ravenously, bolting their grain without proper mas- tication, so bringing on gripes or stop- • page. A good plan is to put a bite .it long hay in the rack and let them begin on that, finishing up with grain, when the keen endge of hunger has been re- moved. This is a wise policy in every case, but very especially so with greedy feeders. • 00 011/ 0000*, 000 0 1@g040/404411 401 Rapid changes of temperature are hard .on the toughest constitution. The conductor passing from the heated inside of a trolley car to the icy temperature of the platform—the canvasser r ---".T an hour or so in a heated building and then walking against a biting wind—know the difficulty of avoiding cold. Scott'," Eintation strengthens the body so that it can better withstand the • danger of cold from changes of temperature. 0 It will help you to avoid taking cold. ALL DRUGGISTS; SOO. AND DI.004.