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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1892-4-28, Page 6.1101111111111•111111111Male A Fie de Steele Glirl, She can °notate a rha,psody by Liszt as few can dolt; She can warble Schuberth Seeentele—youll lis• ten gladly She cell give at scene trona ell:pillar," from "liandet " or " Jeer manner's very fetehing, and her voice is sweet and mellow. See can tell e story Moly, au& she's something of a poet, Aud there's not a fed that comes to town but she's the tirst to know it. She's a aevotee of Kipling, and she likes the style of Ibsen; She's " up " in. art, aud raves about De Maarier and Gibson. She enjoys a college football gamo--would walk Ave miles to view it ; Knows the latest rose --or orchid—and the nor- ise bele nrst grew it. She danoeit like the sunbeam ; argues free trade ane protection, And, anxiously, intensely waits tee coming fall election. She can teach a class in SupdayScheolanreside at some high tea; She reads Emerson and Swedenborg and talks theosophy; She attends is school of languages, mid also one of cooking, And apes the poses of Delsarte to keep herself lithe looking; And her great grandmother's portrait, which was done in 1820, Keeps watch (although suggestive quite of deice farnionte)— Keeps watoh and wonders (sho who saw the century's beginning) At the many charms it takes to make aniodern maiden winning. A BARITONE'S DEVOTION; OR A TALE OP SUNNY ITALY. He helped him into the adjoining room, mid Carlo, conscious of much the same sen - Nation about the heart as he had felt ea the night of his first appearance in public, dis- missed him. "If you ring the bell in the next ocan," he remarked, "they'll show you te your room, or, if you make up your mind to go to the vicarage, -steer for the church tower, and you esn't mistake the house, for they say there is none other near." I wish you were about, and could go there.with me," said Sardoni, with a sigh. •" You are much better alone. I told you last time I should only have been in the way.. Now for my siesta. A rivederci Sardoni turned away slowly and with a :sort of reluctance—ahnost as if he were already in imagination rehearsing that difficult return which Carlo had spoken of. To steer straight for the church tower ! What a walk that would be )—what a fight would be involved in every step 1 He closed the door, and once more re-entered the morning room. Was that Mr. Britton standing by the window? But at the sound of the shutting of the door the figure turned, and orossed the room in eager baste. Sardoni's heart beat like a sledgehammer, the tears rushed to his eyes. "Father ?" he faltered. "Did you come ? are you here ?" And Carlo himself would have been satis- fied could he have seen the manner of their meeting. When they could speak, the vicar replied to the incoherent question, " It was your friend's doing! He thought this would be the best place. "It is all his doing 1" said Sardoni, in a choked voice. There was a pause, broken at last by the father. "Let us come home together !" he said. .A:nd Carlo' lying tired out in the next room, heardthe door of the marningroom open, and knew that all was well, and pic- tured to himself how the two would walk together toward the house by the church, and how Sardoni would smile to himself when helound that there was no question se to ringing of bells, since the father would throw the door wide, and himself take him into the new home, where even dark memories would not be allowed to eater and spoil the peace of the reconciliation. But what passed he never actually knew, because there are things too sacred to be put into words—things wletch men learn to take an trust even with their closest friends. Sardoni returned in the evening, and talked of Anita, and Corned°, and Gigi, and of the various vicissitudes of the com- pany in the last three weeks. But on Easier eve, in the morning, when Carlo, like a true Neapolitan, desired to begin the festa, the vicar came, true DO his appointment, and with him came his son. "You will have the necessary third without me," whispered Clare, thinking they would rather be 'alone. C I will go." • "No," said Carlo. "1 should like to haveyou both, if you. don't mind. Jack, i this s my friend, lenss Clareinont." Clare welcomed him quietly, and the two e -friends juet gripped each other's hands, and not another word passed between them till they had joined in their Easter coin- munion. CHAPTER XXIX. When the excitement of SardonPs visit was over, Carlo flagged a little, but the weariness and languor were far lees trying to bear than what followed. One sunny spring day, when the doctor Iliad allowed him to go for a short drive, Clare and Kate took him for the first time outside the Merlebank grounds, and drove him through the little village of Cleevering. By this time he had himself pretty well in hand—had schooled himself into a sorb of content with incompleteness—had worked 'himself round to a state in which he could feel that it was at any rate something to be with Francesca's relations'to hear her name every now and then, to be at least certain of knowing if she were in any par- ticular need or trouble. "We may as well call for the letters as we are passing the post -office," said Kate, drawing up at the village shop. She sprung out of the chaise, Carlo offering to hold the pony for her. He had neither ridden nor driven since he had left Italy, and the mere feeling of the reins between his fingers awoke new life within him; it was long since he had been able really to , desire any attainable thing, hub now he was neized with a strong desire to ride once . more, and the mere capability of wishing was a relief. He had an almost boyish : {pleasure in feeling the movements of the limey's head as it champed the bit, in hear. big the impatient pawing of the ground. "Two letters for you, Clare," said Kate, reappearing ; and Clare took them rather anxiously, and opening the one from home !began to read. None for me ?" Asked Carlo. "Not one," said Kate, tossing two or three envelopes on to the vacant seat. He latently detected. %et one of them bore the blue stamp of Italy. Was it from Feaneesca he wondered, Or portiere from Captain Britton to his brother? It was something to be staying in a house where fetters were received from Casa Bella, oda yet it was a sort of torture to him to eit quietly in the pony-chaige, obliged to con- tent himself with studying the length of King Humbert's mustache end, the big let- ters of " Napoli " on the Post rdark. After their arrival home, the footman clone in with the afternoon tea, and was semi fol. towed. by Mr. Britton. "Oh 1" said Kate, bestowing a cup of tea , • etn Carlo With a frigid air Met was quite tost on him, " Francesca writes to ask if she may come next week instead of in June. r fee very premeking, for 1, shell be so busy just ehert, and there will be no tennie or anythiegeto amuse her," Carlo did not dare to mise his eyes lest the wild rapture of hope which Was filling them should become visible to Kate, "1 don't fancy she is much of a tuella player," said Mr. Britton. "Is there no inolosure for inc ?" "Oh yes, I beg your pardon, father, quite forgot ; there Is a liue for you from Uncle Britton, and a little note from Fren- °eau., eln Britton glaeced tbrotigh them then deliberetely handed Frenceeca's note to Cori°, possibly intendieg his daughter to draw her own conclusions from the act, "1 aireglecl he cornea earlier; you two are old friends' and it would be a pity that you ehould notmeet." " Will you have any more tea, Signor Donoti 2" she asked, in her coldly polite voice. No more, thank you," sada. Carlo, •looking up for a moment from tlae letter. His eyes startled her '• there was an expression in their dark, liquid depths which she had never eeen before in the eyes of any man. She got up quickly. "If you'll excuse me, father, I'll just finish those accounts," he said. "Clara and the girls will be down directly." Meanwhile Carlo, feeling like one in a beautiful dream, which is only marred by the dim consciousness that there mast be an awaking, read and re•read the following note: "DRAB UNOLR GEoR.GB,—Thank you so much for your letters ; I never thought ib 'possible that father would let me come, but something in your note to him hae made hien cement ; ana also, perhaps, something that has happened here makes him see that I had better leave home for a little while. It was just like you to keep your promise in that way, and be Carlo's friend, and just like you, too, to write so often for I have been dreadfully anxious, Father says, can you conveniently meet me, or send some one to meet me, at Charing Cross by the tidal train on Wednesday morning? He does not much like me to come such a long way alone, and the lady with whom I travel from Naples only goes as far as London. "Ever, dear uncle, your lovineg niece, " FRANCESCA BRITTON." He had his moments of unalloyed bliss; then came the inevitable awaking. "Do you think I ought to go away ?" he said, returning the letter to Mr. Britton. There was something so appealing in hie tone that Mr. Britton felt a genuine thrill of pleasure in being able to answer with a clear conscience. "Certainly nob; the moat scrupulous sense of honor can't demand that, since her father is perfectly well aware that you are staying with us." What do you think makes him willing to let us meet 7" said Carlo, anxiously. "Well, to speak quite frankly, I think that probably Francesca, has just refused some good offer of marriage, and that my brother finds that it is hopeless to see her settled in life as he would wish while her heart is here at Merlebank. Very possibly he hopes—as I, too, confess I hope—that circumstances will lead you to see that it is useless for you to continue any longer on the stage, and that all may end well, and you and Francesca be very happy ever after,' as they say in the stories." Carlo was silent, for suddenly, in that comfortable English drawing -room, there flashed across his mind the old temptation, which he thought could never have risen again after the decisive blow dealt it in the garden at Ville. Bruno. This time the strong point of his character, his genuine humility, was appealed to. • • The week of rapturous expectation that followed was the happiest Carlo had known since the abrupt ending of 'his betrothal. At last the supreme moment arrived ; he heard the wheels of the carriage and the sudden rush of girls from the school -room; then Clare looked in for a minute, "She is just here; but don't come out into the hall, Carlo, for the wind is so cold to -day." Re made some sort of reply, and felt re- lieved that Clare had left the drawing -room door opened as she hastened out to greet her old pupil. Good heavens! how was be to meet her like an ordinary acquaintance? His breathing was labored, his heart throbbed, he trembled from head to foot; yet through it all he listened with longing indescribable. Ah, yes! that wars her voice, above all the tumult within e.nd without. "How are you, dear Clare? 'it Bad ; and again, after a pause: A beautiful crossing, thank you. Why, Flo, how you have grown !" The voice was drawing nearer and nearer;. the oppression grew frightful. With an effort he rose to his feet, and at that instant caught theefirst glimpse of his love as she crossed the hall—the pure, sweet, delicate face, with its lovely coloring; the slight, lithe figure, the gray eyes, seeking him out eagerly, yet so shyly. He went quickly forward to meet her, tumble to feel for very excess of feeling, bewil -ed and overpow- ered by the tarnulttb, leer preeence caused. And yet it was all , ver so soon, this meet- ing which he had rehearsed so often, both waking ancl sleeping; a conventional hand clasp, e smile carefully regulated, a few quick words of Italian since his native tongue came naturally 'to him, and for the moment he could not remember a single word of English. After that there was a pause which he did not dare break, because he knew he could not steady his voice; all he could do was to try to look and move naturadly, and to get back the perception that his arras were his own in time to hand about the cups of tea which Kate, in her cool, business -like way, was preparing. At first the mere possibiliby of looking at her, talking to her, and welting on her, kept him happy. iehen Mr. Britton was present he was a little less at his ease, be- cause he knew that the kindly host was well aware of their story; but by day, when old Mrs. Britton, or Clare, or tbeighis were present, he seemed really able to ignore the past, and act as though their three weeks' betrothal had never been. The sense of helping her to play this part, the knowledge that he could shield and protect her, was no small incentive, though at times he balf wished that Captain Britton had permitted Clare to be told, because her sympathy would have been so well worth haying. As to Kate, both the lovers were unable to help being amused by her, for Francesca quickly perceived her desire to convert Carlo to her own ideas, and Carlo instill°. tively knew that she had perceived it. But one rainy morning, when the two pies were at work in the morning -room, Francesca found that there are times when an undeclared love story has its disadvan- tages. "1 have hardly seen yon alone yet," began Kate, "and there is so much I wanted to telk to you about. Bet you see I have been so frightfully busy since you mane • indeed, ib has been one ineessant rush Of work all through the spring, and having Signor Donati here takes up more tune than people might fancy." "It was so good of unele to ask him here," WA Francesca, keeping her eyes fixed On her needlework. " Father is always doing that kind Of thing. But we have hover had a visitor here for so lotig Whom I to underatand go little ; I don't think I like eim very mach." Don't you ?" eaid Francesca, stifling a atrong inclination to laugh. " Well, be is so deceptive ; he gives you the impression of being so good and think- ing ao ranch of °thee people, and yet I can't melee out that he has done one single etroke of good, useful work in his life. He seems to me exactly like the fig -tree which had nothing but leaves. How can he bear to waste his life on the stage '? " "Von must not malign my old friend," said. Francesca, flushing crimson, yet atill feeling more amused than angry, because Kato was so ludicrously mistaken, and so perfectly conviuced that she must infaelibly be right. " Well, since you are his friend, do just candidly toll me—Is he so good as Clare makes out? Is he really so delightful as my father seems to think 7" The skeptical strees on the "Is he" made the question all the more embarrassing. To be coolly asked her unbiased opinion of the man she loved was a new experience to Francesco.'for a moment she lost her presence ofmind. What in the world could she say? How was she to gain the com- posed tope needful for a reply? "Oh, yes, indeed he is !" she said at length, in a tolerably naturae tone. "1 have known him for yeara and years you know CHAPTER XXX. BITTER-WERT. • In the grounds at Merlebank there stood a pretty little log hut, fantastically built, and divided within into two rooms. Ib had been the work of one of Mr. Britton's suni- mer holidays many years ago, and had been • specially built for the children. At) first they had played in it incessantly, had learned a fair amount of cookery with the help of the little stove in the outer •room, and had found the place invaluable in all adventuring games Wherein desert islands figured. But now they had rather out- grown this sort of thing, and "Mavis Hut," as it was called, served only for refresh- ments at garden parties, for a convenient places to keep the lawn tennis box, 8,nd oc- casionally for church decorations. On the afternoon after the discussion with Carlo, Kate happened to be arranging the church vases in the inner room of Mavis Hut. She had been round the garden gath- ering the web flowers, had taken all she wanted from the greenhouses, and now sat comfortably down to her work at the rough, wooden table, with the brass vases and the lovely red and white flowers all ready to hand. The sun had been shining brightly it few minutes before, but as Kate arranged her flowers she noticed that the summer -house • grew dark, and was not surprised to hear before long a steady downpour of rain. " I dare say 1 will be over before I have finished," she thought to herself, and was going on with her work when, to her surprise, the door of the hut was opened, and Carlo walked iato the outer room, evidently seeking shelter from the rain. "What it bother 1" thought Kate. "But, after all, though I can see him through this crack in the wood -work, he can't see me. I don't thitik I shall let him know I am here; he would interrupt me, and perhaps talk again as he did this morning—and, besides, I dislike him!" Hardly had she taken her resolution, when once more the outer door opened, and Francesca hurried in, wet and flushed. "Von here 1" she exclaimed, in a voice so startled that Kate's attention was in- stantly arrested. Carlo had been standing at one of the little lattice windows, watching the torrents of rain. She had not perceived him till she had closed the door behind her. He turned instantly. There was no time for thought. It was impossible tha,t any reeolleceign, of Captain Britton or Anitahhould cloud that perfect moment. He was only conscious of two things—that Francesca was present, and that there was no longer the dreary necessity of behaving as though their love was non-existent. " Carina =nine mia I" he cried, cross- ing the hut at lightning speed; and the next moment Francesca was clasped in his ATMs. All had passed so quickly that there had been no chance for poor Kate to make her presence known, and she sat now in the inner room petrified with astonishment. Her firat thought was one of indignation, but when she saw that Francesca clung to her lover, sobbing pitifully, her heart was touched; and though she told herself that she "distinctly disapproved of this sort of nonsense," she began to see that there must be something in the past of her cousin and Signor Donati of which she was unaware—probably an undeclared love story, well known to her father. What so likely as that he should have interested himself in the young Italian on this account, and himself have hastened Francesas visit in the hope that the barrier between them —whatever it might be—would be re- moved? All this flashed through Kate's mind as she watched the two who stood but a few paces from her, and heard with • unwilling ears the mingled love and grief so little in- tended for any outsider. 'Yet what could she do? To leave the summer -house she must pass through the room in which they were talking—must not only put an end to the interview, bat embarrass them past bearing. • Again, if she even moved a muscle, Carlo, with his preternaturally sharp hearing, would certainly notice 1; she did not dare even to raise her hands to stop her ears, lest he should overhear the movement; and so in sore vexation she remained an unwilling spectator of all that passed. True, when they spoke low and fast in Italian, she could not always follow them, but very often they would suddenly relapse into English, and then every syllable could be heard through the thin wooden partition. "Tell me," said Carlo, when, after a Vine, they sat down on the rustic seat at the otherend of the hut, Francescee head drawn close down on his shoulder--" tell me, darling, this one thing. Why did your faeherhvish you to leave home? Mr. Brit- ton allowed me your letter to him, and you said—" "Well, I didn't mean to have told you," said Francesca, breaking in quickly ; but 1 was this, Carlin°. Count Carosse.—the man who took Villa Bruno, you know— made father an offer of Marriage for me, and that, of course, had to be declined, though father was vexed, and really wanted me to accepb him. Then 1 had to speak, for t was afraid we should be constantly having such troubles; so I told him that though, of course, I would always obey him, and would consider my betrothal with you at an end, yet there was an inner sense in which it could never er.d for Me, and I said all I dared to him about the future, yet could not move him. He doesn't see what a fable position it puts me in—how hard it 1 to go out into the world, and keep people at a distance wieh• out being rude or prudish. Even Enrico Ritter at that Wee angry with me, because he thought I ought to have been able to freeze away the ottipid men who will crowd around one at parties. Enrico 1 very good to me now, . though ; he is the one Man Werth epealenig to m Naples, beeaust he tells isle Writ% he has heard from you, and if :vouare "He writes to tell me when he has seen Pei" said Carlo. "Ib is only Buell it pity," continued Francesca, " that he 45 not Italian imitated of Germen ; then, perhaps, he would be it better talker and tell me more about you. He somehow gets iu so little and stumbles so, and it is just as if I were etarving, and he were doling me out crumbs instead of bits of bread." " It it) it shame to abuse the dear old fellow," ;mid Carlo, smiling ; " yet that is just what I have felt all these months with his letters. Perhaps, after weeks of wait. ing, I get one very long, very clever, very philosophical, and then in the postscript he will remark, ' Miss Britton is all right ; I saw her in the English church on Sunday.' Not another word ! If only Enrico could know what it means to be in love ! And yet such crumbs are better than nothing. And he is the best arid truest of friends." "Yes ; there is something so stanch and faithful about him. Oh 1 he hag been so good to me, eopecially once at a ball when We overheard some wretches talking aboot you, and oaying such horrid things of you." "What sort of things ?" 1 "Oh, 1 ean't tell you—hateful things about your reasons for going on the stage, You see, people can't understand the real mission, and so I suppers() they try to invent one. I can't think, Carlo miss, how you bear it so patiently; how you could let Kate leeture you this morning about your useless lifo, and to never get even a little bit angry. You wouldn't have done it a year ago." "lam growing old, you toe," he answered, smiling, "and that was nothing—nothing at all. I am a little sorry that I shock her, but you see 1 is inevitable." "Ansi your sister, whet of her? Are you happier about her? Have you learned to understand 'each other better ?" He sighed. "Ib is uphill work. Did you know that Comerio followed us to England ?" " No ; Enrico never told me that; I sup- posehe thought I should not know anything about such 'a bad character." • " Ile came to London when we were there in the winter. That has been the hardest part of it all; for I was beginning to knock up then, and all the time there was the hor- rible feeling that he was hovering over me like a vulture, only waiting for me to fall that he might pounce down." "That was what made you struggle On through that last opera," said Francesca, wiping away her tears; "Harry told me all about it the other day. But what happened? Did he take your place?" Carlo sighed an assent. "He is there now." "How hard it must have been for von to be helpless! What torture to have to lie there ill and think about 1 all 1" " Yes ; it was hard till one remembered that of course it must be all right, and then it was a great comfort to be able to try to get web. Besides, I have •a great hope that Nita's little boy will prove a safeguard to her; she begins really to care for him. My one fear is that Comerio may manage to get round Merlin° and induce him not to renew his contract wibla me in the suininer. I know he will move heaven and earth to go to America with the troupe, and to get me turned off." "And Signor Marline? What is he like ? Do you dislike him so muoh as when you first saw him?" "Do you know, I have really grown fond of him. He is tyrannical, 8,nd has a bad temper, but I believe he honestly lives up to his lights. Now and then one gets out of heart with the whole concern, and then Merlin° seems intolerable, but that has never been more than a passing mood with me." "Ansi you don't think stage life so black as it is painted by my father for instance ?" "No, I do not," said Carlo ; " it is leas morally trying than I fancied, but more physically tiring. However, I shall be well set up after this long rest. I have written to propose going back at the end of next week, or, if it fits in with their arrange. meats, on the following Monday." "So soon," said Francesca, with a little sob. "Oh, Carlin°, I don't think you are strong enough; and it seems such a miser- able, wandering life for you." "Alt lite without you, canna, must be hard," he said; stroking the crisp brown hair from her forehead tenderly; ' my only comfort is in hoping and fighting for Nita's safety. You must not think of the mere discomforts of the life—they are nothing— less than nothing. Indeed, I frankly tell you that never have I suffered so terribly as in this id1 time with everything. so com- fortable and luxurious all around. It seemed impossible to be willing to live without you, to endure this separation any longer. But, then, no impossible order is ever given except by bad generals—there is comfort in that. It is not impossible, carina, and it roust be done." "Dat I—I only have to stay at home; I can't even watch you fighting," aobled Francesca, "That was always the fate of women. I have the wretched, easy life, and can only wonder and wonder what is happening to you. Oh, it 1 so hard ! so hard !" To be Continued. Thrilling Stories of Adventure. The humen animal is by instinct a hero- worshipper, and from our earliest reading years we delight in reading stories of the adventurous and heroic. There are few grown men to -day who do not remember with pleasure the avidity with which they devoured Robinson Crusoe and the kindred works so dear to children, from Jack in the Bean Stalk to Gulliver's Travels, and those who missed the sensation are to be pitied. The industry of bookmaking in this later age, however, furnishes much that 1 an im- provement upon that which formed the literary pabuluin of our juvenile years, and the best authors and engravers expend their skill and genius on works to interesteand at the same time train the minds of, our young ladies and gentlemen. A book of this char. Deter entitled "Heroes of Unknown Seas and Savage Lands," by J. W. Buel, ono of the most graphic and fascinating Of descriptive narrative writers, assisted by the historian John Clark Redpath, has just been issued by the World Publishing Co., of Guelph. Among the incidents detailed vividly and faithfully are the discovery of America by the Sea Kings of the North ; the thrillingstory of the famous buccaneers of the Spanish ram; the most startling and tragic adventures of the wars in Mexico and Peru; African and gold comb scenes of barbaric splendor and carnage; Marco Polo in India and China; De Gaina's exploration and the sad fate Of Magellan, with numerous other stories which have hitherto been but little known to the masses of the reading public. It contains over 500 very large pages, and embellished with no fewer than three hure dred illustrations and colored plates. The engravinga are of a superior class and are really appropriate to a work having so much of literary merit. Like ell the productions of the enterprising publishers, it is beauti- fully and Substantially bound, and its ad- vent in the market opens a most inviting field to agents who desire to handle a work at once's:1101g to the buyer arid rennin - tredve to the agent. Edinburgh University has conferred the degree of LL D. on Sir Charlee Tupper. TO MAKE FARMING PAY. One Man Fails Where Another Would Succeed. 'ROTATION OF OROFS. No Time to Loaf Around the Corner Store. THE FOUNDATION OF PROSPERITY. The matter of making our farms more productive rests in a greet measure with ourselvesIn how many instances may we not recall time wasted on the farm, and how very frequently does this occur in the course of the year? We can recall whole days spent 1 may be on some trivial matter ef business which men in some lines of life would have settled in it few moments, In looking around among the farmers of my acquaintance I cannot find a single instance where one who made the most of his time 'bas not succeeded, although he began with limited, means. Such men, however, havenot spent much time at the village store or the post -office. What some have done, others can do 1 they only apply themselves with equal assiduity. We may, and often do, look for other aids to help es to build up it fortuue. We look for help in the form of protective tariffla and in various other ways. The helpfulness of some of these I do not deny, but still the fact remains thet we cannot legislate to make men industrious. That "Heaven helps those who help themselves" is a well -tried maxim, wh1le embodies in a small compass the results of much experi- ence. The spirit of eelf-help 1 the root of all genuine growth in the individual. We are prone to put too much faith in systems and look too little to ourselves. Help from without is often enfeebling in ita effects, but help from within invariably invigorates and strengthens. What. ever 1 done for men or communities from outside sources, so far removes the stimulus which promote us to action. Since such is the ease, why do we not put forth every effort within our power to make our calling a success. Our success without a doubt will be measured by our individual efforts, barring misfortunes. It encourages us to remember that farming is the foundation and support of nearly all other industries. When farming languishes these also languish. The farming com- munity, more than any other, have made Ontario what it is. With the good soil, climate and other facilities, we should not be contenb until we lead the world in farming. It may not be so very important how a man is circumataneed so far as outward cir- cmusbances are concerned, but it 1 all im- portant that those within the home are properly adjusted. Our manner of living has surely sometbing to do with the de- pressed state of farming. Compare our manner et living to -day with that of our parents of thirty or forty years ago. The comparison will surely lead us to feel ashamed of our murmurings. We live in homes to a large extent the result of their hard earnings, and to them we are more or less directly indebted for many of the com- forts which we enjoy. The home of those pioneers was but slimly furnisbedyet 1 was the abode of contentment. Although the place 1 almost forgotten where it once stood, the thought of it calla up visions of the unceasing toil which out away the forest.front its precincts and gave us the cultivated fields which surround it.. Their recompense of their toil was rewarded with returns which to them appeared ample, although to our enlarged desires they would appear small indeed. The matron of the old home performed her daily tasks with a zeal that was more than commendable. No stove lightened her labors; no carpets adorned the log cabin. The winter even. bags saw her incessantly employed in earn- ing for the wants of the household. They rode in no costly carriages. They walked in little companies through the forest path to the nearest place of worship. How very different the fine turn- out of the farmer of to -day. If our forefathers were content to labor on in• the face of so many difficulties, why should not we in the absence of these? Our ex- travagance would have horrified them, as we spend on a few entertainments what would have gone far to keep a -whole family a goodly portion of the year. In the past we have been too anxious to get returns from our lands without con- sidering the effects of this upon the produc- tion of the future. Had it proper rotation • been adopted we could have reaped quite as large returns and at least saved the fer- tility of our soils. An instance comes to mind of a farm which had been long rented which will not no w grow enough to supply the wants of an average family, a•ncl there are many such in Ontario. This farm has been long rented, and has been cropped continuously until it 1 in a manner ruined. After it time this farm changed hands, and by a judicious sytem of handling was again brought into a state of productiveness and without the addition of artificial manures. It was ac- complished by sowing such crops in succes- sion as were adapted to the moil. The emcees of a farmer 1, of course, largely what he makes it, and it usually corresponds to his diligence. 1 hive in my mind an instance of a farm of 200 acres, and from three acres of 1 no less than $1,056 was realized in it single year. Another farmer in the same neighborhood from twelve acres sold produce to the amount of $2,000. The first mentioned crop was berries, the last was grapes. Other farms in the neighborhood may be'no less produce tine the chief difference in the results being found in the owners primarily rather than in the reoults. There is not even one farm in Ontariowhich could not be made snore pro- ductive. On many farms little waste corners are allowed to be idle, which, 1 cultivated, would produce enough in many instances to maintain a family in vegetables and small f nits. Wedonotthink enough of our position as farmers. Our calling is one of the first in the land. The moulding of the nation of the future lies largely with us. The Gov- ernment' of a country simply reflects the people inhabiting the same. Let us then guard well the inheritance which is ours. We must cease to look upon our life as one of drudgery. It 1 rather one of independ- ence. All may be heroes in the strife. Farming is now becomirig (mite a science, ma the best equipped farmer is the one Who il3 familiar with all the different kinds of oils, the means whereby their fertility may be maintained, and their productive- ness increased. Too often do we see wide differences between farmers living aide by side with oils apparently poeseesing equal producing propetties. One will be prosperous and successful in all his un- dertakings, his buildings will be neat and his farm tidily kept, everything. gives evi- dence of prosperity. The adjoining fatal appears as though it had lestitei owner and was in teat& of a tenant. ' The fences are doWn, the buildings going to decay. The soil produces Weede and thistlee. Thug dif- • 0112111,111 ferently 1 farming carried on where the "18 Deiq bo *Atelier and other natural ad-. vantages are ectual. The tendency of the times 1 too much in the direction ef living fast and •for show, a Manner of life in striking contrast to that of a former generetiou. • The wise lessona they • taught by exatnple, if not by precept,. are all too moon forhottell. That ,radustry which is so necessary to complete development is not sufficiently heeded. The demands' of the soeiety of to.clay are too severe upon the farmer unfl; too exacting if these are all heeded, We inuat therefore learn to discriminate) and dare to do so as well. Rivalry ahead not be allowed to exercise an undue influence. We are not quick enough in learning thee lesson, that our preeent comfort dependa more on our expenditure than we are aware of, nor are we sufficiently • alive to the extent to wilich this expenditure rimy be regulated. The cutting off of little expenses may mean the difference of going backward or forward. To BUM up, let us banish discontentment . with our lot, make the most of the oppor- tunities that lie within our reach, keep alive to the importance of our calling, and thus elevate farming to that position of which it 1 deserving at our hands, always re- membering that farming 1 what we make it Jon& 0, Sriew, Woodburn. Probably in March more than any other month in the year are the ravages of cold in the head and catarrh most severely felt. Da not neglect either for an instant, but apply Nasal Bairn, a time -tried, never -failing cure. Essay to use pleasant and agmeable. Try it. Sold by 111 dealers or pent by mail, post- paid, on receipt of price -50c. and $1. bottle. Fulford Si Co., Brockville, Ont. A Word for Stare ClicAts. "1 should like to see some silk gloves,' said a lady to it saleswoman in a large King street store the other day. "Well, we haven't any under 75 centa," mime the response. "Von have not been asked anything about prices yet," was the lady's prompt rebuke. It is a very Sad Thing To see young and beautiful people die what they might just as well live and enjoy health and. strength. Many who suffer with coughs, colde and lung troubles, leading to con - gumption imaguae there 1 no hope for them, when in reality there 1 every hope if Miller's Emulsion of Cod Liver Oil as taken regularly. Spread the news everywhere that this great emulsion will make flesh 8.nd blood, cure coughs, colds, bronchitis, sore throats and lung troubles tending to con- sumption. In big bottles, 50c. and $L Ats all druggists. Niue Tailors. Bagley—I believe there is troth in the saying that it takes nine tailors to make a man. Brace --What makes you think scr? Bagley—I'd rather meet nine men a.ny time. Prrs—An Fits stopped free by Dr. 11.1ine's Great Nerve Restorer. No Fits after first day's use. Marvellous cures. Treatise and Sled trial bottle free to Fit cases. Send to Dr. Kline. 931 Arch St., Philadelphia, Pa. Love Mu a Palace. Mrs. De Style—So MIs D'Avnoo 1 going to marry Mr. Billion ? I thought she would take Mr. Million. Mrs. De Fashion—She did intend to, but Mr. Billion rushed ill at the last moment and bid 850,000 higher. New York Wortd : The visit to thia coma - try of Furniss, the clever caricaturist of Punch, has no connection with the rumor that the proprietors of Punch. intend to transform it into it comic pap r. OATZ 3EN.VJOIrS Both the method and results when. Syrup of Figs is taken- it is pleasant and refreshing to the taste, and acts gently yet promptly on the Kidneys,, Liver and Bowels, cleanses the sys- tem effectually, dispels colds, head— aches and fevers and cures habitual constipation. Syrup of Figs is the only remedy of its kind ever 'pro- duced, pleasing to the taste and ac— ceptable to the stomach, prompt in its action and truly beneficial in its effects, prepared only from the most healthyandagreeablesubstances its m any excellent qualities COM mend it to all and have made it the roost popular remedy known. Syrup of FIge is for sale in 750 bottles by all leading druggists. Any reliable druggist who may not have it on hard will procure it promptly for any one who wishes to try it. Manufactured only by the CALIFORNIA FIG MCP CO, SAN FRANCISCO, °A2. Lotrisvmus, nor. NEW YOlert, N. If. A GENTS WANTED FOR "LTEROES OF lea Unknown Seas and Savage Lands"; 1. W. Buers latest and best book; four grand double -page colored plates; three hundred. beautiful historical engravings ; thrilling ad- venture; (stoats history more interesting than romance, exploration and di- covery ; great new book • sells at sight; send for circulars. Address, World Publishing Co., Guelph, Ont. PENNYROYAL WAPE RS. A specific naohthty inorlidno for ladles t6 restore arid regulate tho infante -1i producing free, healthy atad Whim ItUdellatito. No nous or tinhut on ap. peopelt. Now used byoOor 10,010 Mars. Onoo w,ed Will tiso egalo grnifigotatee those divots. Bey of year dtaitglet Only those with our sightstuert,Oottesi &soot label. AvOldriubstittitert Heeled Mitleultiglati,leArnaripptintlagE ooterezer. uneitomosticie, Lechuma's tangy 84 Pennyroyal Pfils The only sate and reliable French PM on rho inarhet, for itnitiodiate re/tet of and Istotte her Itlensiteir, vt.moto lyirooknt..ist. otO• Eriz"ECTILDAL EVERY* 71 NI E. 'Thou.itandri iesiormiae1 SOW 14 all dosgrosto or sent by Witt, tiostnattl, tegthey ement iitemein wreee pee _With telt directfent, rat, se, rale ',HARM/WM. SP=ALTY CO., ef. Chrortgo."111., Sole amage. sigg5,5,„appgap.fr liREsvitat-Aft f Alt.sett Coegh Nivo, Trattcal aNai, lo,prlyt, sold lersar, "SEWS ,1 4