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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1906-11-01, Page 6_ +, • t # * itee, DI! eee'ee 'Pion fleece/et c.f.' ,._•e'r0170_ It) J` rm thet eSeeees thecusb V,re cainte-"her lereee Land." Amelia :has deonped chic/ding hand etlia Irm,L14..v1,\icl into 111,r lap. lies forgotten lier offotO, to couceal the blankrieee ohex' dismay. Unless olio conceals the whole of leer face in- deed, the attempt would Tee in vain, 5h-le0 each lenEuro zpeoo tequally. 'Her whole fortune?' elie repeats, al- most inaudibly. "011?" "What, all nee pretty eletekene „ end their dam?" says 31m, oppreesed ley her overwhelined look. into on artificial and dreUry levity, and in not particularly at quotation. "My dear, do not look oo broken-hearted. I ani not alosolutely destitute; I need not become a senewieh man. r have still got my. 000 a year, my very own, which neither Man nor mouse, neither curate- nor vicar can take from rae. can still go on I.:101w; upon that; the question 1s"4 -his words coming more slowly, and his tone growing graver— "have I any right to ask you to riot on it eam 7" tier hand has gone in feverish haste out to his for answer, and her eyes, into which the tears are welling, look with an intense dumb wistfulness into his; but, for the moment, it remains dumb. There is something painful to Burgoyne in that wistfulness, almost More pain- ful thaa,the telliogenf that news which has produced It, He looks down iipori tlie table -cloth, and, with his disengaged band, the one not, imprisoned in his be- trothed's fond hold, draws petterns with a paper -knife accidentally left there. "The only thing I blame her for," he continues, not following up We branch of the subject that his last speech had begin to open up, and speaking with a 'epniposure which, to the stricken Amelia, 'appears to evidence lils attain- ment of the highest pinnacle o xnanly fortitude, "the only thing I Winne her for, is her having hindered my adopt- ing any profession. Poor old -woman, it was not malice prepense., I know; she had not seen her Jessamey then, proba- bly had not even a prophetic instinct of him, but as things turned out"—stifling a. tigh—"it would have been kinder to have put me in the way of earning my own living." Amelia's head has sunk down upen his hand—he feels her hot tears upon It; but now that the theme has no longer e.eference to herself, she can speak. Sfie straightens herself, and there is a flash, such as he has very seldom seen there, in her rather colorless orbs. "It was monstrous of herr she cries, with the almost exaggerated passion of a usually very self-controlled person. "After having always told you that you were to be her heir!" "But had she told me so?" replies Jim, passing his hand with a perplexed air over his own face. "That is what I have been trying to recall for the last few days. I never remember the ;time when I did not believe it, so I suppose that SQ1110 one must have told me so; but I could not swear that she herself had ever put it down in black and white. 'However," tossing his head back with a gesture" as of - one who thb•ows off his shoulders a useless burden, "what does (hat „matter now?- I afn not her. heir, I 'ain nolocaly's heir; we must. look facts: in the face! Amelia, dear"—in a tone 91 reluctant tenderaffection, as of one cOmpell;ed, yet most unwilling, to give a little child, or some other soft, helpless 'creature, pain—"we must look facts in ehe face!" There is something in his voice that blokes Anielia's heart, stand still; but she 'attempts no interruption. "It is veryhard for me, dear, after all these"—ha pau.ses a second; ,the about to say "weary years' waiting," but his conscience arrest § him; to him they have CitAPTEll There is no particular reoson why Eturgosene should not impart to his cent- • panion what he knows—after all it is *lot very much --about their twom courArywoen. Upon reflection he had • told himself this, and conquered a re- ' luctanee, that he cermet account for, to mentioning their name; and to relating the story of those shadowy idyllic Wu • rnontlis 9f his life; which furm all of it, that has ever come into contact, with theirs. So that by the time—some' thirty-six hours l'ater—when they reach Florence, the younger man is in pos- . session e of -as- mucle -information about the objects of their common interest, as it is in 'the power elf the elder one to impart. To neither of them, meanwhile, is -any second glimpse kuu,01,Salod et those ob- jects, eagerly—though with different de- grees of overtness in that eagerness—as they both look out for them among the luggoge-piles , and the tweed -clad Eng- glish ladies at the station. It had been , the intention of- Burgoyne Unit lie and his friend should put up at the same hotel as that inhabited by -bus: betrothed and her family; line finding that. it is lint, he orders rooms at elle Minerva, and in the fallen dusk of a rather chill , spring night, finds himself traversing 'the short distance from the railway to that hotel, As he and Byng sit over their coffee after dinner in the salle a manger, al- most its only teoents at that late hour, the younger man remarks matter -of - lazily, as if stating i proposition -almost , tee obvious to be worth uttering— "I suppose you are off to the Anglo- American now." • "I think not," replies Jim slowly; "it is past ten, you see, and they are early people." He adds a, moment later, as if iSuspeoting his own excuse of insuffi- Ziemer, "Mr. Wilson is rather an in- valid, and there is also an invalid, or semi-lovalid sister; I think that I had better not disturb them tesnight." Byng has eever been engaged to be •married, exceptein theory, and it is cer- • • tainly no business of his to blew hie • friend's flagging ardor inte 'flarne, so he contents himself with an acquieseent • observatiOn to the effect that thetarin must havelbeenAate. But at all events the next morning -finds Burgoyne' paying hla flacre at the door of -nee Anglo- American„., with' the confidencelof a per- son who is certain of finding those he "And how are, things going? 'low are you all getting .on, he asks, 'precipita- ting -himself upon a fresh subject, since he teeth prevented by circumstances front saying anything likely to bring hiin much distinction upon the old one. "Your father?" "His throat is better" ---with an accent of hesitating filial piety, eseif there were Semething else about him that was not befier. r"And Syenla?" e "Oh, poor Sybilla I she has her„,bad days 'no* and then." "And, like 'the early Christians,' she resolves to haveeall things -ha- common. I expect that her family have their bad days, boo, e says Jinx, drily. "Well, we do sometimes," replies Amelia with. reluctant admission; "but she really does try he control herself, poor thing; she is hardly ever unbear- able now." •"And Cecilia?" " "She is rather in trouble just now; I fear eaere is no doubt that the man she was engaged to • has .thrown her over. .You never saw him ? Oh, no ! Of eourse the affair came on after you left England." Burgoyne's eyebrows have gone up, and 'his face has assumed an expression less of surprise than 'admiration at this piece of news. "How many does that make? Pour? Well; Courage! There is luck in odd numbers; perhaps she will land the. fifth." • "She will tell you .about it herself," says Amelia; "she .tella everybody; she likes talking about it—iteia very odd, but she does. When yoil throw me ewer"—rubbing his hand, which she holds, with shy and deprecating caress- ingiess against her own cheek—"I shall tell nobody; I shae keep my misfortune very dark." "When I do!" repeats' he, with laugh- ing emphasis; but to his own ear both theemphasis and the laughter sound flat. This is perhaps the cause why he, - a eecond• time runs away from his sub- ject; or, more probably, he is really in haste to get to the new one. "Meanwhile," he says, his eyes involunlarily dropping to the carpet, as if- he had rather not see the effect', of' his words upon her;. "meanwhile, some One has, -throws me over." ° "You 1" • "Yes, ine; I did not write it to you, because I do not Ste much use in put - seeks, a confidence justified by •the re- ling down bad news in black and white, suit; for, having . followed a waiter) and 'even with -this little delay, I am afraid,", with a dry 'smile, "that, you will have plenty of timeto enjoy _it." He pauses for an instant, and she does not 'hurry hint with any teasing ques- tions; but waits, with meek patience, fill he feels inclined to -go on. "My aunt is going to be married." If he has wished that his news shall •produce the effect, of nt, torpedo, he has no causeto complain cif his want of success. His placid Amelia 'vaults to her feet. "Married!" she -repeats with a gasp. "Why; she is quite, quite old!" "She is sixty -fiver The color has flooded all Amelia's face; the neazing color that .means' not pleasure, but consternation, It is, some moments befoire she clan 'frame her next query: , ' '-`41A•tad is he?—d you?—has she chosen w4gely, I mean?' 'I Jim laughs age' . "Can one chooef wisely at sixtysfive ? whether she has or no is a mat- ter .of opinion; shekhasehosen the curate of the parish, whoV by' reason of his ex- treme juvenility is still in deacon's orders."' Miss Wilson's limbs are shaking so that sheecannot Maintain her standing attitude. She sinks :down. by .the din- ing -table again in her hard chair. 11 16 a very ,91ard chair on which to reeeive such ill-trelws. "And you cantilitirinde it. cartketeynn dissuade liar r she asks falteringly. "I shall not try; • poor old wqman.. After all,.she-has a right to pursue her own happines's in bee own' way, only I wish that she had made -up her mind tvienty yeare ego; 'though to be sure, how could she ?"—with another, smile— "since, at that time, her bridegroom WAS not mueli more than born." " A dead silence supervenes—a silence of shocked stupefaction on the one side, of rather dismal brooding on the- other. At length Amelia nerves hereelf 10 put et question upon whieli it seems to tier, Apt very incorreetly, that her whole fu- ture hangs. She does it in such a iow volee ,that none. but 3.•-er.-it sharp ears could have caught it. Jim's ears are so; practtaed as they are in listening for the stealthy tread of what malteds, and for the indeeeribrible sounds of mom -nein - solitudes at night. "Will it—will it—make a great differ- ence to you?" _ acroes a court -yard, and heard him •knock at -a door on the ground -floor, that door opens with an instintaneous- , ness which gives:, the idea Of an ear he aeinbeen pricked to catch the ex- pectant rap, and the next moment, the intervening garcon having withdrawn, • Jim stands face to face withehis Her features are all alight with pleasure, • but her first words are not particularly amorous. "Would you mind corning into the dining -room? Sybilla is In 'the drawing - soap already this morning. She .said „ she was afraid it was going to be orie of her bad days, so I thought" (rather res gret(ully) "that •possibly she would be a little later than usual in coming down; but, on the contrary, she is much • earlier." It is possible that an extremely ardent love may be independent of surround- • ings; may burn with as fierce a flame, when its owner or victim is seated on a hard horse -hair chair beside a! dining - room table In a little dull hotel back room, as when tire senses are courted by softly -cushioned lounges, penetrating flower scents, and cunningly arranged bric-a-brac; but perhaps, Jim's passion • is not of this intense and Spartan qual- ity-. At all events a chill steals over him as Amelia leads the way into Ilia small and uncheerful chamber where the Wil- son family daily banquet. Ile is not so lost to all sense of what England and A•melia, expect of him, as not to take her In his arms and Rise her very kindly and warmly, before ;they sit dooin on two -hard chairs side ty side; and even when they have done so, he still bolds her hand, and kisses it now and then. • He has a great many thing•e to say to her, but, "out .of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh" is not in- variably true. Sornetimee that -very abundanee clogs the utteranee, and, after a ten months' separation, the hingee olf even lovers' tongues are apt at firet to- be somewhat rusty. • " "And are you really glad to see nee swain?" eteke the wornari—she scare. ly a girl. having the doubtful advantage of being her betrothed's eenior by two yeers. The horsehair elating are obvi- ouely pow erlese to take. the edge off hoe blies; and she can searcely (-mutilate). her volee as she asks the question. "I' deeline to answer all such futile in- quiriee," replies he„ smiling not un- kindly; but there ie no tremor in his • Burgoyne lifts his eyes, which have voice., "Even if I did not diecourage been idly •hent on the floor. and looks straight and full at her across the core nor of the table, "It mahe all the difference!" he them me prineiple. I 511001(1 have 110 ti100 to anewer them to -day; I have so much to eay to you that I do not know where to begin," asswsse slowly. . "After ten menthe that is not eurprie- ' Poor Amelia is holding her handkers. lug," rejoins she, win/ a Allited z,igh, thief in her hand; . She lifts it to her Thew ie no sentimental reproae1t4n. her mouth and bites a corner of it to hide , ' Vvordie or tone: but in both buil-:s a note the quivering of her lips end e,hin. Site . , of wieffuhtel whieh give e his cones -fence does not wish,' tn add to his pain by any IL Plieli. , breakdown on hor ewn part. ,13u1 „lim "of peue--te not! of eouree nett." he re- (Mime; the quivering even under the . ,t, Joule., naenly 441)111 it is not re,ally ten morsel of cambric, and looks' away continues, In a tone of profound regret. lneefliee no. orelye see] again. -9, "All I ean offer you at the end of thorn "Tell men -he. MI6 week. two daye, "Her money Is 1111110S1 entirely Jin her te a -not particularly gente,e1 poverty, 'four Ivens a el a hal l'' , (mai power," he continuee, in eine un- not even a cottage veit t a double coach - what aPPerd 11:fi; le? lie fatentnis nano, 'flounced her marriage 10 me, she alSe "I do not want ,a double coachshonse, Againet Atli osa Allude of memory emotional voice; "and when elm an-. houeersianglitnee grit tly. t111(1 0111y 111111143. with la faint unjuet, leri- minouneed her intention of settling OW nor even a einglei onni" replies Amelia. ,e ierien filet e> lo Might have 4)01'0 .11110 whoe ot it upon her—her"-±-he pauses a stoutly, and la gbiriii too, a Mile ke rald home.• ( eeond, se If resoleed tO !seep Out of biA Ineees. iTzat 3 Teed relhee (laive a -Ceeste 1710220""8berow ;sena you then go i e. eeeele and eiee reithent, your Th/t3 13 the hreteet,llight el integina lien of eiviticia 3'411 D1C15 k'ver linowee'bi matter-eMeet Autella guilty, end he ea Pay his thanles for it only in eompune nous kisSeS. Perhaps it ie they, perhap It is tho thought whieh dictates her nes hesitating epeoch that Tering a light int Ameliab tear -reddened eyes. "If you will never lee better eff---- S• 1414eYesstrs. dear, go cm; 'if 1 :shall never b better 0113—1 certainly 'never -.shail; feel sure that you will be, able to put m earnings for the next .ten years hit your eye„, and 'eee none the worse to thein!" • • , "If — you — evill—never—be—better- e off" ehe repeats again, Moreslowly; and breaking off at the :Same place. 'Well, dear?" . "If you Will never bebetter off." Thi time she finishes her sentence; but it i rendered almost inaudible by the fac of her flushed face and triveeing lips being pressed against his breast. "Why Should we wait any longer?" "'Why should we wait any longer?' To most persons, granted the usual con- dition of feeling of 11, „betrothed couple, this would seem a very natural and legitimate deduction from the premises; but, strange to say, it comes upon Buie goyim with the shock of a surprise. He haS been Witting artigUelye"a of hie change of fortune as (1. cause for un- limited delay, perhaps for the rupture of his engagement, never as a reason for its -immediate fulfilment.. Ile gives a sort of breathless wisp, which ishappily too low for Amelia with her still hidden face to hear. .To be married at once! To sit down for all time t�- Amelia and 48(1) a year! • To forego for ever the °thrilling wandering lire; the DIghtS Under the northern stars, the stealthy tracking of shy forest crea- tures; the scarce. Coarse delicious food, the cold, the fatigue, tho hourly peril, Unit, sinceits prebable loss is ever in sight, makes life � sweetly worth hav- ing—all in, En short that goes te make up so many en glishman's ideal of felicity; that has certainly hitherto gone to make up Jim's. To renounce it all 1 There is no doubt that the bitterness of this thought comes first; but presently, supplanting it, chtising it away, there follows another, a self -reproachful light flashing over his past eight years, show- ing him his own selfishness colossal and complete for the first time. In a par- oxysm of remorsee he has lifted Amel- ia's face, and, 'framing it with his hands, looks searchingly into it. , "I believe," 'he saes In a shaken voice, "that you would have married me eight years ago, on my pittance, if 1 hed asked you 1" • • • No "Yes" was ever written in larger print than that which he read in her patient pale.,eyes. Even at this instant there darts aeroes him a wish that the -y were not quite so pale, hut he detests himself for it. "And I never suspected itr- he cries, compunctiously. "I give you my word •of honor, I nev.ee.suspeeted•it! I thought you looked upon my poverty in as pro- hibitory a light as I did myself." . "I do not call it such great poverty," replies'. Amelia., her practical mind re- assuming its hebiluel sway over her emot ions. "Of course it is an income that would require a little management; -but if we cut our coat according to our- eloth, and did not want to move about too much, we might live either in a not very fashionable part of London,. or in some cheap district in the country very comfortably." Despite his remorse, a cold shiver reins (Iwo Burgoyne's spine at the pic- ture -Mitt rises, conjured up with too much distinctness by her words, before 110 hebh weary, eo after a hardly -per- his mind's eye; the picture of 'a sinug' ceptible' byeale, he • goes on—"after all Bayswater villa, with a picturesque •these many, years' evaiting, tb have come parlormaid, or the eittrnative cottage to this, .is ,n,ot it?" • in some dreary ,Wilisbire or Dorsetshire He • had not calculated on the effect village, with a shrubbery ,ef 'three' Au- -which would be produced by hismien- cube bushes, and a kitelien-garden of choly words and . his caressing tone. half an acre. It may be that, her frame She buries her face on his Shoulder, sob- being- in such close proximity. to his, bing ,uncontrollably. • ' she feels the influence of his shiver, and "They were not longl" she murmurs that it suggests her next sentence, which brokenly. "N-othing is,, nothing can bee is iiva less sanguine key. long to me as long as I have you, or the (To te continued).. hope' of your . e • CHAPTERVL It, is, perhape, fortunate for Amelia that she cannot see °the expression of the face which looks out above her pros- trate head into space, with a blankness ,eqUal to what had been her own, a blankneSs streaked, as hers was not, with remorse. He Would give anything to be able to answer her in her own key, to bell her that, as long as he cart -keep her. the going or coming of any lesser good hurts him as little as the brushing past his cheek of a- sinnmer moth or wind-blowrPfeather. But when he tries to frame a sentence of this kind -his tongue eleavee to the roof of his mnt mouth. Ile can only hold her to, hi in an affectionate clasp, whose dumb- "rtess he hopes that she - attributes to !Coming emotion. S'ite herself indulges In no very prolonged manifestation of her passion. In a few momsh ents e is !again „sitting up beside him with wiped (eyes, none the handsomer, poor soul, for having eried, and listening with a deep attention to an exposition of her'. lover's position and Prospents, which he ig at no Pains to tinge with::a factitious roee-color. "Have you realized," he says, `gthat, 1 shall never be better off than arn now? 'never! never! For though of course I 'shall try to got work, one knows how :sue,cessfult that quest generally is in the 'ease of /0,11,1h11 nn special aptitudes, no, technical training, and who starts in the race liantlicapigal plet.„ peing ten -years too late 1," I3ut the dismalness 'of his raises Taises no answering gloom in the yeung avOnian'e face. She nods'. her head "I realize it." "And this is what I have brought you to, after all these years* waiting," he • SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER. Father (sternly)"So you've !faired again in. your eeaminations Frew do : 'k they ed my oesuo jneuxs:pt 1 atliBneectshaauanstilee?". tlieo,enns; as -before."nd • Physician "1 shall have to forbid you smoking, drinking, bowling and keeping late hours.".- Patient: "Ah, I see, My wife has been consulting you." hroat Coughs A tickling in the. throat; • hoarieness at times; adeep breath iiritates it;—these are features of a throat • caught They're very de- ceptive, aiid cough ture won't cure them. You want Something that, will 11(ml the inflamed membranes, enrich the blood and tone up the system . Scotes Emulsion( is just such a remedy. It has wonderful healing and nourishing power. , 'iiemoves the cause" .of the cough and the whole system is given new strength and vigor 0.. &oil for Pee $ampti SCOTT & BOWNE, c,b;;;as 2toro;wo, 0,v,p see. 40,1 p.m% "V( dra.te:ing rctuming, teati8. "Do net you , Refreshing Stimulant That is perfectly harmless, because It is absolutely pure,. GRBUN lEAk. A Perfect Luxury to Japan Tea Drinker& Load paosota only; 449o, SO0 and Boo par lb. At all ge0ColliV., 4.4.1.44;3++++++++++++++++++1 • I About the Farm FEEDING IN STALL OFt SHEDS. „Ale, question duriog,recenteyears ifs been the subject of much dttss'ion, while it may not be correct to eay that it has been fully settled, the eaperiments conducted during recent years have thrown considerable light upon the sub- ject. These experiments have resulted, as a rule, in favor of feeding in sheds, and allowing the animals to move at liberty in the barns and in a protected yard at hand. An experiment thus conducted • by the writer -eat' the Minne- sota station came out in favor of feed- ing -the animals in the shed..rather than In the stall, writes Prof Tnomas Shaw. It was thought a few years ago that animals 'could be fattened betterly they *ere tied in the stall and kept perfectly Still -during the fattening process. I can remember diseussions in Ontario at public meetings as te. whether animals tied M the stall should be allowed any liberty of exercise. Some claimed that they would finish better if tied up when the feeding began, If furnished with water In the stall and only taken- out when the feeding was completed. Others clahned that they should be al- lowed. to take exercise in a yard for an hour or so, two or three times a week, but the best feeders seemed to think it was necessary to house -them all the while and tie them. in. the stable.. This ylew seems to be in accord with the idea of Olden times, as reference is made in holy „writ to animals fattened in the stall. ,There is one aeguthent in favor of stall' feeding that cannot be gainsaid. It. provides' for feeding aniinals just the amount of food that they sheuld be fed. Soine can take -more food than others without injury. • When they are. tied in separate stalls the too_ can be distri- buted to each -just in exact proportion to its needs. In this way each, animal' malt be kept. on feed and it may be fed without any waste of food.. It is not • possible, or, at least, it is not easy. to apportion to each the exact amount- of food that it ought to have; as some ani- mals eat more quickly than others, and, therefore. ,gni. a larger share proportion- ately. The only way lo avoid- this is to tie the animal while,it is taking ite food. - The following arguments agalieSt keeping animals tied lend good: They lose to such an extent the ability to move about or to stand any jostling that they do not bear up well in going :10 market, on foot, by rail, or by steam- boat. The difference in this re,spect is very marked beleve.enethem and -cattle finished in the open' shed and yard. Mare timeth called for in feeding and watering -the animals and elso in re- moving „the litter. This Item is impor- tant. In these deers orexpensive labor 11 16 very important. One man tri6.3T'are for many more animals when fed in boxes, and not, tied than When, the ani - mats are tied, inestalls, The cost of housing is also less.1 The stable with stalls and floors is More costly, than. the shed without floors, hence, though the animals should make equal gains, those fed in the shed will be fed Rio more cheaply', because of the saving in the various items referred to.• . • . THOSE LOOSE CONSUME MOBE FOOD. It may he asked howcan more profit be made e'from animalsthat are, fed loose when they consume' more food: They take more food beeause they take 'more exercise and are exposed to lower temperatures. The effeets of both .exer- elAe and cold are to sharpen the appe- tite. The answer to this question •5 found in the greater relative gain made for the food fed. This result would seem' to show unmistakably that, some exorcise tends to secure a more thor- ough digestion of the food. This mom complete .digestiore In everal the experiments conducted- to. letermine quegtion, Is partly re- ponsible Inc the greater profits that lave been secured front' feeding In the ,pen shod ; „ \SSW's, the- consumption of ond has Iseen-egreater; out- of •doors, the *endive nieeeage -hes. marc -than ;.ept pace with the consumption ofood. ' The influence or exposure is liable to be misunderstood. An animal is not really exposed mnfil wantof shilter mekes .it uncomfortable, 'and. it is 'not really Oetected Until protectibie -adds; to its comfort. Vic -eyed from this etand- , isotil\kr trit(ilzItIelteurbittelliftTg' etelle,,etsscgillyy.aillfodtroeoqt: naottidnctisitinglyint?xa. h"n it 1).(Nsti-oi„, .k(‘).1ly "siiitotg lit the doee ot gnat. ex - Os. Tile animal will make the great - '111 etoriny weall;or 'it vould be eaey lo spose animals •s0 ‘iieoitseaoioc il,dl)e. 1; n e:oli ttlifsor Ittlne„ t 0 the extent of being uncontrollable. Viten fed heavily on heat -producing stdas own, it ie easy to keep animate neomfortably warm., Tine eeplaine in art, at lewd, why M tine northweet, ith ite laite'et but eohl days, animals ne prefer lying imt ofilooig on a bed Mow in many inetancee to eeehing e. shelter 01 a ehed, ea hell feeding animal° loCee liielle& 1 0 11 11 11 11 0 it will be greatly advantageous to give' attention to the following (acts: Tht animals should be dehorned, if pos. sessed of horns, when the feeding per. loci begins, otherwise they will 'aujur0 each other, it may be seriously. They should have access to a yard protected front cold winds and kept well bedded, They could be fed more correctly 0 they had access to stanchions in the shed of feed lot, so that each could be kept ir place while eating the grain ration, Care sheuea be taken to keep them eheltered from storms of rain or snow, and they 'sleduld- riot -be'allowed to Wads through deep mud in yard's. The com- fort of the animals should be mosr carefully studied. LIVE 'STOCK NOTES. The best. pork and the cheapest is made from hog § that never ieve been wintered. . A .colt- maybe carefully driven or o,s'oeci. rlfed all the time after he is two years old without harm, but good sound judgment and common sense must b* u There is no system of farming that ta so great an extent conserves the ele- ments of fertility as dairying, especiele ly when only the butter fat is removed' and the skim milk left on fiie farm to hte fed. • • Most herees will drink as soon as they have eaten ire the morning. Then allow them water. 1110S1 horses after working - two; three or four hours will desire to drink. Then water them. It is merit liable, far more liable, to be the home that man tries . to dictate to in his drinking that has colic than it is the , horse that can never have water when he wants it. - There is no room for doubt that the very best breeding must always lean for results on good feeding. The Q0N31' that will give ten times her bodily weight in milk -for a year and- put so much butter fat in that milk that teen) it butter may be .made equal to one- half or more of her live weight, 5 a creature' of very remarkable artifielar development. She must 'ele this great ,work of milk production and fat elabo- ration from the feed ;she Is able to cone smile, digest, and assimilate. There, fore, the emplification of good dairy breeding must be in producing an ani mal capable ,of this heavy food cola:- LIVE STOCK N0TI-3. .Excessive fat, is detramental to all kinds of breeding stock, especially hogs. A large colt put at work when three years old is full of spirit, and if al- lowed to do all lid is willing to do, will be able to do much less 'at four years ol • Experinients and long continued Prat, bee of feeding barley furnish evidence , that this grain is a Useful and, economi- cal food. But when taxed to the limit° by hard work' it is found • that horses • cannot be supported upon barley quite' as well as upon oats, and,that it is Worth but slightly less per pound than oats, With animals performing a me. dium amount of work. • . SOLOMON UP TO DATE. ' : Sicilian Judge in an Attempt to Repeat History Got Left. -, - A case that bears a striking resern. Nance to the familiar problem the sokus tion of which is inseparably -bound bp with King Solomon's Mine came up res eently for decision nere before the cirs Cult judge at Georgia, Sicily. Two pea.? sant women claimed with equal vehee mence 'ownership of a pretty baby boyt one accusing the otheriof posing as the real mother, -after having had tile chilc in temporary charge. The judge re., membering the Scriptures, thought lee could do no better than follow King. Solomon's example. Ile ordered the, child to be tied to a bench, and, produce ing a carving knife, spoke the famous words that might to have led to the iris, mediate discovery of the true mother,' But times have changed. If the 'Italian. newspaper report is to be believed, the , two wonieWeried out simultaneously;—i "If you must cid it up, Excellenza, yett may as welt keep the pleees1" eliussia still has many odd and cOriotts mare:age customs. One is for lite bridG„. and bridegroom to race rapidly down thes aisle as soon es the bridal procession elites.; the church, because of the be. lief that whichever Plaeea a. foot first: on the cloth in front of the altar will Le master in the household.