HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1907-12-19, Page 7T
o •0.Q.0I a+u+Q.lot.O.o.O.s' +c+o O4^(l+0 .O.0 -t -(9O4•)+ )
THE SACRIFICE ; 1
OR •
FOR t1ER FAMILY'S SAKE.
III4O4Gt+O.e0!+O+o+0+D+*+ +* o.-o+o+oe-wo+o♦o+o+v-►
CIIAVFElt XXI.-{Continued). through the crowd with a lofty air; she
looked neither to the right nor the left;
she looked only into Lhe future, where
she saw freedom before her.
Doctor Salton' erg %•as standing al
the church door. His eyes were fixed
€n his mother. who, with Katie von
Totten beside
her, came slowly o
w
ith
the crowd. 'floe n he happened to look
aside, ani he started back a step.
Lora? fora, as he had so often seen
her. in the thin oen'er cloak. which he
knew so well. with the fair curls. which
lay lightly on the chile Wow, with
the old, sweet, modest expression• in
the eyes, under the long, shady lashes.
as maidenly as at that time when she
was his Irene. Ile felt hot anger stir-
ring within him. \Vhy did sho cross
itis path so?
Sho went through the streets as if
in n dream, and was surprised to find
herself soon at her mother's door. She
went. Into. the dining -room. Iter ince
Bier's troubled eyes stet hers.
"Lora, my God, Loral"
lora did not weep. She knelt down
beside Fret/ von Totten, and putting
her arm round tier, murmured:
"!tomo again, in my own Woe, once
more. Ah, mamma. you cannot know
what that means for ate."
Frau von Totten was silent. She
bent down amid her teats and kissed
her daughter's beautiful, clear brow; it
was a mute, touching entreaty for par-
don. Her lora, her beautiful, proud
Lora, how frightfully she had been
sinned against, and sho, her own mo-
ther, had lent her' hand to the crime,
against her own better nature.
"Mamma," entreated Lora, "do not
cry. My heart -is so light, so light, to-
day." :, --
'!'hen the. silken train rustled by, and
the -,hri!l vecee of her mother-in-law:
" Cow into Heir General, 1, too, have
vord to s:.y to the -lady."
am sotry, madam, but 1 must In-
st upon your saying nothing, for
every one's sake. If this ludy is an
itt11histir, it would be beueattt your dig-
nity; If she is not, it would certainly
he uselcs.e. Do you understand?"
Lora had now conte out of her hid-
ing -place.
"Uncle," sho cried, hurrying up to
hint, "lake Inc to mamma, l beg of you.'
"certainty, my love. l can under -
blend that you are longing for your
mother; comet"
The young wife went lino her bed-
rcomn, and soon came back with a lace
hoot over her hair, and wrapped up
lin her old cloak which she had lately
brought Lome secretly. She had her
prayer -book In her hand and her ta-
ti1i-•r'; photograph in a simple frame.
At the sight of her Frau Becher broke
out. into.sudden, hysterical sobs. "Lora,'
she said, "you cannot go.'
"Yes, I can," she replied, breathing
quickly; "I ala going -_and I will never
oe.nie back --never!"
"You cannot be store of that, my
leve," said the general.
"Yes;' returned lora. who fairly
seemed to grow, she drew herself up
so proudly. "Yes. i can. For even 11
the is not his wife according to law,
she is so in my eyes; and if anything
could add to the contempt I already
feel for hint, it would bo the sight of
Bios child whom ho has deserted.
Never, never will 1 set my foot across
this ,lhresltolet again -never!"
"Oh, it will all come out right," sob-
bed Frau Becher,
"Nevdor'1" repented Loom. and she
:gathered up the h•ain of her mourning
rlrees, Ili if even tho garments that
she wore should not be allowed Ip
touch the poor of the house she was
leaving.
"Pardon, madam; she Ls frightfully
agilaled, naturally." -said the general,
in excuse. I shall be back again, di-
re -city."
ile hurried after Lora, who was wait-
ing four ltimn at the hall door. "Come,
child," he said gently-, offering her his
Or ni.
She clung closely ido him, but sho
tdid not speak again. It had gt»wn
dark outside, the wind find gone down
and Iho bells sounded deep and sol-
emn from the towers of the. city. It
.as Christmas Eve.
Loreeatae. hear)-snddonly wanner/ and
tened, and somelhing ,came back to
or of the Will of her childhood; the
certainty that there is a God of corn-
jtassion mind of love.
She dropped her uncle's arm, "i am
Bourg to church," shewhispered. And
he nodded.
"I wilt goon and prepare your mo-
ther, and then go back to Frau Bather'
She walked slowly on through the
er•»wc(d•ci street. Church-gcers came
front nearly every house, and took the
same way that she Wes going, drawn
by the sound of the bells. On the high
alar two ChrLstnmas trees were blaz-
ing with light. Tears came into Ler
eyes, and a solemn feeling came over
her. Just In front of her, halt hidden
behind a great pillar, sal the stranger.
Her worn, delicate face was turned to-
wns) the blazing lrccs. She ltetkl the
kilchild's little hand between her own,
and listened to rho old Christmas
hymn:
"1 [ring good tidings of a Saviour's
birth,
To you and all the nations upon earth."
fora went into the sante pow, sat
down beside the child, and Lent her
1 -ad in prayer. The eyes of her neigh -
1 r opened weal as she booked al her
cc, t.twn which ono clear dropniter
e other's'.owly ran.
"For the child's sake. forgive me for
disturbing your peace," saki the stran-
ger to her, In a whisper. after the er-
kaon eyes over.
"I
forgive you? At►, you must for-
give nr'. But. believe me, 1 ant welm,ess
et blame," replied Lora. Her hand :eel-
e.l for n moment in that of the ctr;;nl.
ger. and her eyes looked eenrchingle
al her trice. No; it was not that .,f an
imoot•er.
\\ hen the
CHIPPER XXII.
When the general went back to Frau
P.c'cher's he was obliged to wait for
nearly an hour, with Aunt Melilla to
keep him company. Tho old lady was
in a frightfully' excited state; nothing
worse could happen to her than to be
shut out of a secret, and, on this oc-
casion, she could find out absolutely
nothing.
Shu} only knew ttiat something had
happened -so inething monstrous, un-
heard of; but all attempts to get any
detailed information were frustrated The
by her brother's silence. 110 walked poetic
slowly up and down the violet salon, dier.
with his hands behind his lock, and
paid no attention whatever to his sis-
ter's questions.
"Good heavens, there is Rudolph! It
can't bo Rudolph again?" she sobbed
out at length. "Oh, do tell tae, Wil-
liam; he wants money from the Beck-
ers again, doesn't he? • Dear me, even
though they aro rich, ono ought not
to ask too often for--"
"Indeed? They paid his debts, did
They'?" asked the general; with appar-
ent indifference.
"Yes, Wilhelm, otherwise he would
have been -but you didn't know about
that?'
And Aunt Melilla, delighted to feel
herself dmpotflant, Dome closet up to
flim. "Otherwise he would have lett
the service in disgrace, do you know?"
she whispered, and as the general
stopped she floured out the whole
wretched story in his car, twisting her
handkerchief about in her hands in her
eagerness.
""!'hank God," sho concluded, "Leo
never knew of it; It was all set,iled by
'I ora's engagement► -yes, by her en-
gagement," she nodded till her curls
shook.
"And the engagement was arranged
en account of this delightful affair?'
he asked, with a growl like Ilutnder,
and following her to the chair in which
she had seated herself, he stopped be-
fore It and looked at her with dark-
ening eyes.
His sister made no reply.
"Eh. Melilla. ,d!,1 the girl consent of
her own fre e \\ i :?" he risked.
The to.o1-nolurt 1 little. lady looked
a) this mete -•'tt ;,, helpless ns a child.
"Why, \\ i , . how you do look at
nue! She 41..! vers. at Inst. It Le no
trifle for a loan n to --I don't. knout.
1\111iau1. wl,:e! ! .^all Itudolph's mis-
step -Inst to !e:�%. the service. And you
e
At length Frau Eltrieda eppearef.
Aunt Mslitta was reque.atei to wait
1.1 another 1c40am.
She went out in direful anger, and
she had to put up wiUh the fact that
the Polish carp to the kitchen were
done to rags, and the Christmas tree
art the ball -room remained unlighted.
and the cosily presents awaited their
recipients in vain. What was the race
of her making seta -pillows and pin-
cushions by the dozen/ But the ►vont
was yet to come. After two hours of
painful expectation her brother lett the
house without asking for her; frau
Ite:her sent word through the servant
that she was so tiros she could not sec
Frau!e'n von Totten again; Aunt ?1-ht-
ta put her cloak on with u sigh, east
ene more glance at the dimly -lighted
Christmas room with all its gay pre-
sents, and went downstairs past Lora's
flippant maid, who was standing whis-
pering ► t w•it he odtoan e\• .1'
{ g h t (examen. The r ae s
fares had a curious. insolent expres-
sion. and they looked after her and
hleugtn-d. And this was Christmas
Eve!
As she walked through the park the
clock struck eight. From the window
of the gardener's cottage a brilliant
(:hrstna•t tree shone out. \'es, there
was still joy somewhere.
At her own toor, a Moment later.
she found a slender figure, gazing eag-
erly at the Schonberg's douse. There
was a light downstairs in
r, are Frail
g
11 Fr
Pastorin's room, and in the hall, the
door of which was wide onen. the
scholars of the gymnasium hal Just
lighted the tree, and were singing a
Chr'stmas song.
"Katie, is it you?" cried Aunt Melil-
la. in amazement.
"Yes," said the girl, without turning
Ler head, "I have been waiting here
for you a long Ilme already. Every-
thing seems to be nt slxee and sevens.
What, has happened, 1 should like to
know? The Christmas fancily party
gond to .piece's -Lora suddenly at home
-mamma in tears, and uncle like a
thunder -cloud. Can 1 comp up with
you, auntie?"
"If you like, Katie; but it is cold in
my room, and i haven't even a morsel
of gingerbread In the house; it doesn't
look much like Christmas with ate to-
day."
"As If it were any rnoro like it with
us," said Katie bitterly, and as the song
across the way had ceased, she follow-
ed her little aunt into the house, sat
down by the window in the cold room,
and looked with burning eyes at the
dark gable window opposite. Ile was
downstairs with his mother; there,
there was a fragrance of evergreen and
wax candles; there was happiness.
Katie clenched her flst and said to
herself, 'I will be there next year -i
will -1 will!"
---
CHAPTER XXIII.
general in the mean time sat op -
Frau Becher, every inch tate sot.
He developed his strategic talent,
and began first to reconnoitre.
Frau Becher sat on the yellow flow-
ered damask sofa of her boudoir, with
an air of being ready for the fray. On
her coarse features, swollen with cry-
ing, however, there rested in conlradie-
lion to this, an expression of injured
Innocence and gentle resignation.
"\fidam," began the general, "this
Is a sort of Thing -yes, yes; you need
not tell me. 1 am an old man. 1 know
the world. it is true, young mon will
be young. So this lady was in your
house, Frau Becher?"
"Yes," replied Frau Becher, with A
sigh, "and God knows, If 1 had had
an idea, when she came to me, of what
.misfortune she woos bringing to nmo,
I would never have let her cross my
threshold," and she made an expres-
sive gesture.
"Of course, of course, no one could
blatno you. And you had a great deal
o' trouble about her?"
"Ah, Heaven only knows how much,"
she moaned. "First, all the fuss when
Adalbert fell In love with her. I al-
w•nys said to him, 'Stop that nonsense.
Girls like that are sure to give trouble;
you will repent 11,' But young poop%
always know so much. Afterward
when he had got his way, then the
trouble began in earnest. She was al-
ways writing for ►nsey; that sort of
person rllvayws nerds so much more
thnrt n reepcctnble woman. Sho made
a perfect. thumbscrew of her relations
with Adalbert, and of course, on ac-
count of the child, she always got
soniething.''
"Ah. you -knew, then, that you had
a grandchild?'
"r\ grandchild! Your excellency, I
must Insist.--" The lady's thick little
nose went higher in the air. "We had
en'termined to have the child educated,'
se "In Ti /3"I match, noel---" `ho continued. "Adalbert bus gone
"owe. r N •I, 1 r ! island• She did ever there new. to settle -"store broke
say Y". ill la- eft suddenly, and turned red.
I!• ml`,) rt. l say „ 'eco word; . ncry- "Oh. 1 thought your son loot urgent
slm. %tent th ew suddenly ix• suer clear to him, f uslness !here. And it wns for this
---- -- - • - - - - --- -- mention that he loft my niece so .soon
After the w•eddin;.;-for such reason as
that?"
Frau Becher grew redder still. "(:rod
grncion4, yes; she had Ihreakn ? to
ef n:e over here--atel--and - Ilut for
[boo u cake, your eveellency will
not bol:eve that this rcr: on has any
h t talion for her naane dentnnas? 1
sw.•.!r it, your excellency." She sprang
to in angel' (11141 dvontusion. "1 WlII
Irving you the Phaine!'ss creatures Icl-
lore.- she crlel. "Adaltrrt gave them
10 me to keep when he Married; he
tennleel to keep therm for Borne r•.:anon.
1 have not rend I!•rno general, upon
my word I have not. I only took out
s• lio photographs, which 1 destmyed,
1 hated that rersm'.s tone so. I know
they are begging letters. nothing but
t>eggi ng letters." -
She dlsoppenred for a few momenta.
and Men came heck with a package
of letters.
"Here." she cried. unfastening the
artina. "take them;" and she took up
One herself and looked at O. 'There,
yon See," she cried triumphantly, "ft
41 41 '96 :,:=4S u1 '00 art if 004410.4 .
Don't neglect your cough.
Statistic: etto:v that in New mom's City
alone over 200 root le die e-: ery week from
consumption.
Aad moat of these consumptives might
be living now if they had nof, neglected the
warning ough.
ltou know how quickly Scoft'j'
Emulslon enables you to throw off a
cough or cold
ALL D111fGclMIs IIM AND Need►\
eye
to nelh!ng pat hem,•.ing."
The general g'+.r • d et the Picket
took cut Severs! .•1 'I.r '!ars, and read
them, in truth, it one always the
came lrnplortng cry, "For !he •'h1.1's
Nike."
They were touching letters. in %olds
n
whOil r axle the old soldier's heat /
soft. i castaway ever white bite fast.
At Ian, i Le took cut a tolerably thick
letter; amidst all the 'white paper he
had caught a glimpse of a blue one.
"it is abontucable," screamed Frau
Becher suddenly. "She oasis him, 'My
dearest husband.' Alt, perhaps' it is
the custom ill SUCh coo ."
The general unto'.Je,l the blue leticr
and read the editors, "Dear Si,'rend
the signature. "A. M. Hardy, !lector."
He fait the envolope on his knee, drew
out the contents, ar.d began to read,
with a certain solemnity. "inn!" he
said once. When he came to the end
tit tuned the letter over and beget
to read it ugaln; then he took up the
white paper and glanced at the few
words, in a woman's hand, that \:ere
trivial there:
"Dear Beetle:
"1 rennet bear It any longer. 1 1m -
;lore you to write to me. I went to
Rector Ilnrdy, yesterday, because 1 felt
I roust speak to some one. Forgive
MP for it. Ile said he would write to
you. Don't be angry -I am so des-
perate. Oh, I beg of you, Adalbert, it
not for my sake, at least for that of
the child, write and come to
"Your ELLEN.
"New York, Oct. 16, 188 ---
It was a dale shortly before his en-
gagement to Lora.
"Madam," said the general, in a voice
that sounded very hard and stern, "it
S
i evident to mo that you had no sus-
picion of the existence of a marriage
between your son and this Ellen; but,
nevertheless, it does exist. Here is the
teller of a Pastor (lardy, who married
them. He _ admonishes your son to
come to his young wife, and to fulfil
his duties to the mother and child."
Ile felt sorry for tho woman before
him. She leaned back in her cushions,
and turned deathly pale.
"It is impossible," she gasped, "ll Is
--it must be a mistake,"
But she knew only too well that It
was no mistake. She knew the cele-
brant, he had been her own pastor in
America, and sho knew his handwrit-
ing.
"No, madam, you can see it here in
black and white, and let 113 thank God
that we found the letter."
But Frau Elfrfela, who felt as It site
had experienced a terrible blow of
fate, could not sec any reason for
thanking God for such a discovery.
The stout woman. .breathing heavily,
lay down, and buried her icead In the
sofa -cushions, and remained so for a
long time, almost overwhelmed by the
shock.
The old general, who would not, nn
any account, have called in any wit,
Hass, wafted patiently till she sat up,
with a groan. •
'Oh, it is hard, Il Is !lard," sho mur-
murext, and then she began to sob.
"You must telegraph to your Hon
This very day," said the general calm-
ly as sho stopped speaking, and burst
into tears. "Your son must not conte
back here, do you hear? He will run
the risk of a heavy punishment it he-"
"Not comp back?" she stammered.
"And you, madam, must go to your
son as soon as possible," continued the
general.
"1?" It sounled like a shriek.
"I should wish to avoid all scandal,
for the sake of my poor niece."
"Merciful heavens) It is impossible.
I should nevor survive it-if-Adal-
pert—"
"1 hope you will madamn. To -morrow,
when you are calmer, I will talk with
you about it."
"Your excellency!" site shrieked,
clapping her hands over her taco, "I
never knew it; I did not even suspect
11. Don't desert us, do advise him; he
loves Lora too much. Only for that,
only for That! Oh, how hard it Ls for
n mother, when her children do
wrong!'
The general could not but pity the
course, over -dressed %woman at this mo-
ment, when alt the false excuses fell
may with w•hl^h she tried to defend
the sinner, whose mother she was.
"Cahn yourself, and, above all things,
say not a word about this, for mny
niece's sake." Ile stopped and walked
e lowly up and down the roam. "Your
sora must go back to New York to floe.
on account of his hu4lness," ho said
at length, stopping before the molher,
who stilt lay on the sofa like one dis-
tracted.
She looked at him vaguely.
"Live in Nev York?" she repeated.
"And my niece refuses to go there
with her leisbnnd. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Ile will send for her repeatedly. he
will even appeal to the courts, but she
1.4 determined to slay here.'
"Ah. heaveni, your exceilency!'
"After that, your son will apply for
e divorce, and my niece %•ill gladly sub-
mit to 11. In this way t can, at least.
spare Iho girl the disgrace of appear-
ing before the world as a victim ofyour
son's duplielty. 11 tt were not kr that,
by God, madame---"
fits wrath was too mu: h for turn. and
he stood l.•fore the trembling woman,
with cten he.l lists and !turning eyes.
After awhile, when ho had,c01111ed
himself by walking tip andedowu, h•
continued:
"1 will ask Mrs. Reciter to go shit:
to -morrow no far as Hamburg. for 11:
present. nt least, and I will give ye-•
a few ;lays here to get everylhine
ready. .And now for the telegram. I
will write it out."
Ile lod•k a note -book out of hts 1t •
tore a leaf out, and wrote on it
"Stay in New York: t shall come "
so'n as possible. E. nrrt•ed her.
\\'U! fell you all wizen i lee yon.
"ELF111EDA RE(:HEB:
"There, send that to the telegraph . f
flee nt onto."
"Yas," she replied. as ot.edientty ne
child. --
"Did you Inter -hand what t mild
you. madam?"
"V .s; Lora will not live with
Irt Arnerlea, so he %%all apply f• r -• .!
"Very goof. flood -evening."
Ile selzM • hla hat, end went !owned
the dor.
"Your exQcilency," cried Frau Elf-
rinds,
soluble
the r.
'two
f
models of the
famous Stan Skates.
. The "VELOX" is our
new hockey skate -and
embodies ea years ezperieacea
in skate making.
"LADIES' FLANGED BEAVER" is
an old favorite - that is better and more
polar than ever.
if your dealer does not Msa,,dle Starr Stales, write fur fretcopy
of our 4(41 Skate Book and name of the dealer laa,ur
aelkhborbood who will supply yuu.
Tito Starr Manufacturing Co., Limited
DARTMOUTH, N. 1. CANADA. 22
BRANCH OFFICE - TORONTO, OMT.
taw Skates
-I--tell Lora that I am incon-
lhat—"
evening," he repealed, and left
(To bo Continued.)
M o b D+11,4
ghe arra
i-i�i"i'b $ J44 3�is•llr i1
Af
AKE'
'IiiE COWS CO\ll'0 R1'ABLE
It is at every ratan who can afford to
build a inew stable for his cows, even
though if may be badly needed, but any
man cmu fix up the old one so it will be
ecrnforta'ble during the cold months
now approaching.
The first thing wrong that attracts the
attention, when. preparing to better the
conditions existing in most stables is
the want of light. A cow may bo just
as warm in a dark place as in a light
one, and possibly just as comfortable,
but the dark stable is not In accordance
with cur presentday Ideas of what is
best in a sanitary way.. Probably one
reason why so many were built with so
Tittle window space years ago might be
found in the fact that cows were for-
merly kept inside only at night when
light was not required. So the first
thing to do in rearranging the building
i.: to see that more windows are added.
P barn where animnals are confined
ought to be as well lighted as a human
habitation.
Next, go after the cracks where the
wind blows 1n. iL is not pleasant to
contemplate the discomfort unavoidable
when an animal Is lied fast in any place
where a cold wines sweeps directly upon
!l. In a box stall or even an open shed
it is usually possible for the drafts to be -
avoided by shifting tho position from
place to place, but in a stall, held by
stanchions or tlo, 11 Is different. The
cracks mry be battened with lath cosily
and effectively. 1 have often wondered
why 1t is that with the expenditure of so
small a sum as that represented by a
bundle o1 lath and a roll of building
paper so many cold stables should exist.
Next go after the floors. 1f they are
of dirt, such as we sometimes fled
where but a few cows are kept, they are
sure to get in a bad condition. Dig out
the earth for four inches down and put
in a layer of grout and over this cement.
li the top layer is of boards or plank,
all the better, as 11is (osier to rho feet
than cement. liaise the part where tice
animal stands from four to stx inches
above the hack part by making it that
tnuclt higher than the other.
Cement work is so well known and so
easy to manage that no outside Inbor
should be required, thus reducing the
expense. Measure carefully after esti-
mnting the length required for each ani-
mal, so as to bring her heels as near as
may be to the back ergo of the plat-
form.
I shall say nothing hero about man-
gers, for they are not quite so impor-
tant as windows and Mgrs. Whatever
style is present In a stable can be kept
clean it cnre Is taken to empty then
every day of whatever remains uneaten.
Mouldy or musty cornstniks or stub
ends of other fodder should he cleaned
out, and if this is done the manger will
not be bad. At least 1t would hardly pay
In an old stable to go to the expense of
putting in new.
Many of tho older stables to be found
in the Eastern mord Middle Slates, says
an exchange, have the rigid stanchions,
and seine Modern ones have them also.
These are by no means as comfortable
as another style of fnslening, and about
the only excuse 1 ever heard for their
presence was that they permit of plac-
ing it greater number of animals on the
sante floor space.
Personally, I dislike the arrangement
very much and would urge the abolish-
ment of that style of (fastening. -'rhe
rigid stntichion Is not comfortable. it
snows that en its very appearance, and
I am ennvinceil that it nnimals could
communicate their wislte' to 1111111 they
would enter a mighty pmlest ngaiust
n{ hetd in the sto_ks niter the manner
t those barbarous arrangements called
stanchions.
Th, old !into stable rarely ever lacks
ventilation -such as it Is. Crocks in
i.ng and around doors and the one
.tow usually found, provide drafts of
which mny be depended en to
:range the circulation, but that is not
11 that is wanted. in an old stable it
•.(111(1 not pay to put in an expensive
\stern. but a simple flue for a small
,!able could be easily made, and ::',nme-
,ing of the hind to imperative.
Sl II:mit' 1' %N. RiG 1'ROFrr.
\ ,•,)rre spondent slays : A wetl•fed
,k of shee is the /neat pmfitsble pro-
••rly a faring/Peen own. It is sometirae-s
said that the dairy cow le this. If that
true, why is it that the number et
-'seep has tn(rensed over :1.000.000 In
•-meat Britain in the last few years, natio
'..;w there are over 3(6 cheep to every
inare mile? Sheep raiang la looked
,eon by li many as a primitive industry.
kited only to poor !Antis and undevel-
• t.ed agriculture. If !•he•'p were suited
easy to r tlgh And oaths inllds, why is l
it that in Great itrltein the i•_nant looks
loon his sheep as the Areal rant -payer
on land that Ls worth from 8300 to SAO
per acro?
\\'e hove always advocated that any
farmer can keep a small flock with setts -
factory success. Failures in the keep-
ing of sheep invariably happen In haw-
ing too largo a flock to begin with, for
if one is able ti keep euccessfully a
scall flock, which any person with good
judgment mny do, is aro reason that he
can keep a thousand with the same suc-
cess, for in all arts appertaining to
agriculture there Is no branch so diflt-
cult to bceotue proficient in as the
skephetds art, 1 his does not apply to
sheep alone. Let any man overstock
the capacity of his farm with hogs or
cattle and disaster is sure to follow.
In my thirty years of experience In
the sheep business 1 have always found
that my sheep have af\vays made me
more profit for the feed consumed and
the capital invested than any other
stack. f have made 150 per cent. prcflt
on grade ewes raising early Iambs for
the Easter market.
Sheep, in fact, turn into money in
various ways: First 1s the meat, whe-
ther from hot house lambs, rib welters
or fat ewes That have raised several lots
of lambs; then there is the wool, which
is commanding a good price and which
k harvested In the spring of the year, so
to speak, when the farmer has the least
to sell frotn any other source. And last,
but not least, is the constant incprove-
nient of the land, which sheep with the
"golden hoof" and rich manure never
fall to bring to the tired and worn-out
cultivated held. Sheep is the 100 per
cent. profit animal whether it be grazing
on the rocks of the Ozarks or on the rich
and rolling fields of the prairies.
It you have never had any experience
in the business, let ane warn you to go
easy and buy a few ewes and figure on
improving in the future. One of the
principles of success Is to raise each year
Iambs that aro better individuals than
their mothers. Have your ideal. You
know the ones that answer to the ac-
cepted type and to your ideal. Study
your flock. You know the ones that raise
Be best lambs and shear the heavies)
fleece; you learn to discard the coarse
head, the heavy ear, the long leg, the
cloudy wool and dark skin. liold on to
the ones that conform the nearest to
your ideal, and the most essential and
important part is good care. As some-
one has suid, "A wise shepherd feeds his
la►nbs a month before he sees ileal and
tht foolish shepherd a month afterward."
i want to impress upon the minds of
all that In my experience the ono esen-
Pal and most important thing to remem-
ber to make the sheep business profit-
able, is care. Care will make constitu-
tion; care will ward off disease; care %vitt
make size; care will save feed; care will
snake fat and fat makes more and bet -
tee wool. Core will convince any man
that the sheep is the 100 per cent, profit
animal.
A 11014E -MADE th1IXT.,
IS INEXPENSIVE AND KASHA " PILI:
PARED RV ANYONE.
Is Said In Promptly Rrlic\e itarknrlie
and Overcome kidney Trnubte milt
Bladder \\'nmmkncss.
"hat will appear very Interesting to
many people hero Is the article taken
from a Toronto dally paper, giving
a simple preseriptton, es torm(lated
by a noted authority, who claims that
he hos Mend n positive remedy to cure
almost any case of backache or kidney
er bladder derangement, In the follow -
Ing simple prescription. if token before
the stege of Bright's disease:
Fluid Extract Dandelion, nae -halt
mince; Compound Kargen, one ounce:
Compound Syrup Snrseparilla, the
ounces. Shake well in n bottle and
take In teaspoonful doses after each
meal and again nt bedtime.
A well-known authority when ask-
ed regarding this pre=cr•lpiton, stated
that the ingredients aro all harm•
lass, and can be obtained at a small
cost from nay good presriptron phar
mncy, er the mmxlure would he put of
if asked to do so. Ile further stn!, 1
that while this prescriptkft is •
pro-erihcd in rheumatic afflicl!en.,
splendid results, he could see nn
son why it would net le n spired .1 •
medy tot' kidney and urinaiy (ago
and backache,, as It has a pee: . :.r
tion upon the kidney slructmr••,
sing these most important crgans m
helping them to sift and filter from I•
blood the foul acids and waste :, -.
which cau'e sickness end sufft r :
Thos: who suffer can make no mists!
In giving it ms trial.
A Mt.'11'\I, CIi.INGE OF MIND.
Mr. \Vednot it, confirmed bachekm •
"Hoer time dries fly, Miro Toelm1e.
just I'n year ago since you refused to
on tr.!: v,'i V .col,"
\It', T» ' rte (who moms she tum, ' •
ea -ea, %fee \\•,• $not. but 1 was very y. 'mc
and fooll,h thole"
Mr. Wednot: "Rol we are loth ofd,,
and wiser pow."
_
NINE!! GA\'P. tT \ 111 s"' I'..
First Little Girl: "Does your father
tate wcr'c ?"
Gofer„ p !""• r ;r! : "Ne. Indeed. R
over done hint DO harm e'
n
SAVINGS OF 'PHYSICIANS
e�f(1Vi: LARGE FSI'—It's LEFT ■Y
smoicAL
I.atst 1A'ords of lumoua Uocturs---Sew-
erul Died lliesadn0 Those Around
There,
Nothangel, who died alone in his
-totem, noted his Own symptoms to nee
last. A letter to pts ussis:gut is stud
!to have ended as follows: "\\ritten
late on the evening of Juily 6, just at -
'ter experiencing these where attacks
. , died of calcification of the elle:r-
ccs." Traube also made olaer\ativru
on himself n t la trio veer • end. .00c
( :k
•expresseal a wish 10 Loi pre -'nt at the
postmortem exarninatton on himself;
,and among Cooler's last recorded ►verde
4s a remark, as his finger.* twitched In'
•votuis arty, 'Charted Bell s. right;
'Co tont leu nerfs. de la volonto qui
s:.ni maladifs.' " Dyce Davidson, poo
,fessor at Aberdeen. died immediately
after saying to his class, speaking of
.the next meeting, which was never to
take place. "Four o'clock en Monday,
,gentlemen; 4 o'clock." _
Several doctors have taken their
-leave with a blessing Uo those around
thein. Astley Cooper's last recorded
words are,, "God bless you end good-
•t:ye to you all!" Ile had previously
paid to his physicians, Bright and
Chambers, "God's will be done; Go
bless you botht" adding, "You mus
excuse me, but I shall take no more
rncdiotne:' Benjamin Brodie was heard
to muttert
"AFTER ALL, GOD IS \'FRY GOOD.'
The saddest of CI recorded last words
are probably those of Oliver Groat -
smith, who, when asked by his physl-
clan it his mind was at ease, said:
."No. It is notl" On the other hand,
William Hunter's mind scents to have
been full of bright thoughts at the mo-
ment of death. for he said: "If I could
!told a pen, what a book I could write!"
Pasteur and Darwin, though not be-
longng to the medical profession, aro
venorated by 11 as leachers. Darwin's •
last words were, "1 am not the least
.afraid to die." Pasteur was offered a
cup of milk, and, being unable to swal-
low it, murmured, 1 cannot." Ifo
passed away with one hand in his
wife's, tho other grasping a crucifix.
I.adtly are mentioned the last wool)
of Atirabeau, which are said to haves
been addressed to a doctor, lie wrote
on a slip of paper which he gave 10
his physi ian, the philosopher Cabnnii,
the single word "Dormir." Ans"mme!
account, which may bo an expnnck\l
version of this, is that. after Legging
for an anodyne, he said reproachfully
to 'the doctor, "Were you not my phy•
sietan and my friend? Did you not
-promise to spare mo the suffering dl
such a death? Must I go away curry.
.ing with me the regret of having con•
Med in you?" This is rather a long
end rhetorical speech for a dying man.
LARGE FORTUNES.
Il is given to few men of any pro-
fession to accumulate such large for-
tunes as the late Lord Brampton and
\Ir. Murphy, K. C., have loft behind
them -fortunes amounting to £141,000
and £231,000 resp:,ect•ively; but to say, as
eluted by a contemporary, that such alt
nclilevenm,ul Ls only possible to the law
l= scarcely in accordance with the facts.
Throe medical men at least have left
estates sold larger than the greater of
these. Thirty years ago Dr. Blundell
died worth more than o third of a mll-
lfofr pounds -more exactly, X350A00;
during his flfty-three years of strenu-
ous professional life Sir William Jen-
ner aocumulated the enormous sum of
1375,000, though it is deniblful if he
ever made more than £12,000 In any
vrar; and Sir William Gull left person-
ality valued at £340.000. Dr. T. R.
Arm'itnge died, at 66, worth. £tt?,000;
Sir Erasmus Wilson left .C264,000 be-
hind him, end Slr Andrew Clarks ma.''
'nag reached ,01204,000. -British Meikat
Journal.
A '1 RIFLING DETAIL.
"How's Mary Ellen getting on?'. nak-
ed one of the neighbors, when Mrs,
Austin returned from a visit to the
house of a former resident of the vil-
lage.
She fixed a keen gaze on Mrs. Austin,
for rumors of Mary Ellen's dnmcsllo
troubies had rear:ted tho village some
time before.
"Why, she's cot everything fixed up
real !dee." saldu Mrs. Austfn, aktwly.
"She has a good house and ¢arrlen,
and a co\v, and some o' the likeliest
hens. and n couple o' pigs,
"is 1t true that her hus)anA has reg".
!or temper tantrums every little while?"
:,••ratsteel the neighbor. who had small
1)a11encs with Mitt. Auslln's paint of
toege
"Well. well." sntd
-emP dicreirr.osnrA,
-eel of d.velling on
have a good dent of
•!mo craters Ls liable
nil then,"
MrA. 1n411.n. orb
"f dotm'I ccs any
that. When folk!
Ile mote seine 0'
to he ailing rove
_
'WINGS 'MAT 'I'RnUB1 F (iNE.
A Dollar stud that Creaks when you
.e dressing In a hurry.
A pair of boots that squeak.
A sock that gels rr,islald,
A shoe that pinches. •
An umbrella left at hone when II
rains.
A sped 01 mud en a clean colter.
What yew. wife hes oommLssloneel
>ou In 1, ,v for her.
\\ hat ••'.cps-' to make for corning
\\ here i b,J, mit teat night.
tier mother's \Lslt.
\ 'topned np to!•aeeo s'; e.
\ 1 erat water T•!pe.
'rte p rl^.e of Dent.
The hole in my glove.
11 ,:oesn't t, . tae r••, • :.n ' f
na long to ! 1 rove as ft
does to tell what De Ptisiri he snows.
1