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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1896-9-10, Page 6in the blood is sure to do havoc some- where. The only Pleliatiie is sound kidneys, the only Cure,kidney med- icine, the only idedicht is Dodd's Kidney Pills, TEE EXETER TIMES THE MOST SUCCESSFUL REMEDY FOR MAN OR ceAst. Certain in its effects and never Misters. Read proofs below: 11 KEGUALL'S SP11111 CURE, Hoz di, Carman, Henderson Co., 111„ ft, '94,„ Dr. R. J. KrEnArm Co. Dear Sirs —PleasA send me one oe your Horse Books and oblige. Ilmyeusod a great deal of your Xemiall'S SPAY/1.0=e with good sueceas• it is a wonderful medicine. I once had a nutre that had =Occult Spay In and five lautties cured her. 1 keep a bottle on haud all the lime. Tourstrudy, emu. Forma. KENDALL'S SPAWN CURE. Dr. R. 3.irstratra Co. Dear Sirs—I have used several bottles of your "Kendall's Spavies Cure" with muck suceeLs. I tbial. it the best Liniment 1 ever used. Hats re - mimed one Curb,. one Blood Scold% and killed two Bone Spavins. Ifavo recommended it to several et my friends who are much pleased with twel keep it. Respectfully, S. lux, P. o. naiad. Pereale by alinreggists.oreddress Dr. 73. 47. XENDALZ C07.11'421-17, ENOSBURGH FALLS, VT. CANTON, Mo., Apr. 3, 73. LEGAL. LILDIORSON,Barrister, Soli- . niter of Supreme tlourt. NetarY Public. Oonveyancer. Commissioner, dm Money to Leant °Meet salsou'aBloelc. Exetert R ff. COLLINS, Barrister, Solicitor, Conveyancer, Etc. BXETE our. OFFICE : Over O'Neirs Bank. TIILLIOT ds ELLIOT, 1'4 Barristers, Solicitors, Notaries Mk Conveyancers &c, &cc.' 3-1011ey to Loan at Lowest Bates of Latereet. OFFICE, 'MAIN - STREET, EXETER, efentall every Thursdae. B. V. 33LLTOT.ZflB etEDICAL T 1,1/.11.110'0;mm+ M. D., i. C Er • P. s, zi"ecnittate Vieteria 13nivez. ty eibee and residence. °amnion Latta a tory.See ter . 17)R. IlYNDMAN, coroner for Cie Couuts IlatTet. °Mee, oppnite en ?fl( ens. Stjt or. , -- 1)11S. HOLLIN.S& AMOS. .:9eparate Offices. Residenee Milne aRfornter. b., Andrew st. I diees; Spaelonetee 31ain st ; Dr Rollins' same as formerly, toort.1 door; Dr. Amos" samesouth door. It0144I116; 1. A mai, M. o Exeter. 0116 A.UOTIONEERS. BOSSEINBERRY, General Li - J.1.4. ceused Auctioneer bales conducted allparts. Satisfactiougearanteed. tlisarees moderate. LienuallP 0, Ont. 1.11EtNi oRneYerEfoIrLBthEe ReoLunitefeesn eaetclutuot. t 11d Middlesex , Sales conducted at mod- . Tate rs.tes. °Mee , at Post-ofdee Orea- nin Ott 111019•1119111t=149.101•11111M111. VETERINA.RY. Tennent & Ferment EXETER. ONT. ---- enenstesofthe Ontario Veterivare Oa' Ll`r.FICE : One Goer South ofTewn Hall, 2”116111¢9=111.11,111111R THE WATERLOO MUTUAL FIRE INSURANCECO . Established 1111363. READ OFFICE - WATERLOO, ONT. This Company has been over Twentv-eleh pars in successful oper ition in Wettern Ontario, andtontinues to hist: reagainnt loSS or damage by Fire. Bei Wings, Marchand:se Manufactories and all other descrietioes of insurable property. Intending insurers aaye tlae option of insuring on the Premium Nuttier Cash System. During the_past ten years this company has issued 57,096 Policies, covering tiroperty to the amount of $40,872,038; and paid in tosses alone $709,752.00. Assets, $176,100.00, consisting or Cash it. Bank Government Depositand the unasses- ied Premium Notes on hand and in force 3.W.IYALBEN,M.D.. President; o M. TAYLOR P &rotary ; J. B. Duo nes, Inspector. . U1IAi NitLI. Agent for Exeter and vicinity taiMINIMIXIMESIONZIECOMETilitall=1:12101111112=8161611ECCEMINscm= NERVE BEANS NERVE BEAIita are c, ne,Y covery that cure the worst oasmi of Nervous Debility, Lost Vigor and Failing Manhood; restores the weakness of body or mind caused by over -work, or the errors ore,. eesses of youth. This Remedy ab- aoluteiy cures the most obstinate CAREN When aU other TREATNENTA have failed even to relieve. O1d by drug. ;.ts at $1 per package, or six for $5, or sent b? mail of •a•iPt of Price hy addressing THE JAMES Idt,DICI2',;:, Toronto. Ort. , I, S old at Browning's Drug Store Exeter, THE EXETER TIMES ,L Is published every Thursday morning at Times Steam Printing House Man street, nearly opposite Fitton's jewelry store, Exeter, Ont., by JOHN' WHITE & SONS, Proprietors, RATES OW ABNER:1161'NQ First insertion. Per line 10 cents. Each subsequent insertion, per line3 cents. To insure insertion, advertisements should be &mat in not later than We dneeday morning. Our JOB PRINTING DEPARTMENT is one of the largest and best equipped in the County of Huron. All work entrusted to as will re- •adivo our prompt attention. -- Decisions Regarding Newspapers. 1—Any person who tones a paper regnany nom the post ofdce, whether directed in hie name or another's, or whether he has sub- scribed on not, is responsible for payment. 2—If a person ordere kis paper diseentinued he roust pay all arrears or the publisher moy continue to send it until the payment is made, and the collect the whole amount, whether the paper is taken from the office or not. sults for subscriptions, the suit may be instituted in the place a- here the paper is pub- lished. although the subscriber may reside hundreds of miles aw -y. ' 4—The courts !rave decided that; refusing to take newspapers or periodicals ft om the post office, or removing and leaving tit= uncalled for, is prirA facie evidence of intentional fraud. AFTER MANY DAYS. CHAPTER eteXV.—(Continaxecle A moment's reneetion showed him that this ought to be easy enough. golf past nine was the servants' supper bony at Davenaet, and. ateele in the servants' hall are an institution which even do- mestic convulsions leave ensha,ken. A nmeral makes no difference in the 41 vine right of servants to nine ated sup at a eertein hour; a wedding may cause some supererogatory feasting, but can hardly overterow the reguler order of the daily meals. Mr. Sluelair had no fear, therefore, of any alteration in the routine of the household; and he knew by experience that his servants liked to take their time at the social evening mean It was twenty minutes to ten when he stopped for a rainute or so in the shrubbery to consider his plans. Be- tween ten and eleven, said the anony- mous letter. He lead no time to lose. He skirted the 'ante in front of the drawing -room windows, keeping in the shadow of the trees, The windows were a1l open, and be could see the whole of tee room. Lamps were burning on the table, candle,s on the open piano, but his wife was not tbere. Ile went in at one of the windows. The child's toys were lying on the floor by Constance's favorite chair, and an open work-ba,sket, a little pile of books on a gypsy table, showed that the room bad been lately occupied. "She has gone to the balcony -room to keep ber appointment," he thought, savagely, for by this time be bad ae,- cepted the anonymous warning as truth. The hall was as empty as the draw- ing -room, the lamps burned dimly, be- ing the last invention in beeps that do not illuminate. Gilbert went softly up the shellow olt staircase tu tbe con ridor whinia rett the length of the house, and ended et the door of his own snug- gery. He reathed this door without meeting anr one, weet quietly into the room, and locked the door. The oriel - window of his room conunentled the balcony room, which was recessed in the southern front, between two pro- jecting wings. There could be no bet- ter post of obtervation for the man who had been told to watth the garden approach to his wife's rooms. There were niatcb.es and candles on the mantel -piece, but to Melee it light %%Quid he to meke his presence known to any one in the baleony room. eo Gil- bert waited quietly in the belf dark- ness of a summer night, and found. what he wanted eaeily enough by the sense of touela. There was rio moon yet,but a few stars were shiningfaintly in the tenni gray sky. The windows of the balcony room were dark, and one stood open—the one nearest the iron. stair. Gilbert ohtervecl tees. "She Ls sitting there in tne dark," he thought, "waiting for him. That dark room, that open window, look like guilt. Why has she not her lamp light- ed, and her music or her books? No; she has something else to think of."' His guns were arranged in artistic order above the chimney-piece—a cost- ly collection,iwith ell the latest im- provements n sporting guns. His hands wandered here and there aixtong the stoke till they came to a favorite rifle, the lightest in his colleetion, and one of A he surest. He had shot many a royal stag with it beyond the Tweed. He took down this gun, went to a drawer where he kept ammunition, and selected it and loaded bis gun in it steady, bus:nese-like manner. Tlaere wa.s no faltering of the hand that dropped the eartridge into its place, though that hand meant murder. "He refused to fight rae," Gilbert Sinclair said to himself. "He lied to me until I was fool enough to believe his lies. I gave him fair warning. He has tricked and insulted me in the face of that warning. He has entered my house once as an imposter and a liar. If he tries to enter it a second time as a thief and a seducer, his blood be upon his own head." • CHAPTER XXVI. Ten o'clock struck with sweet and solemn chime from the old square tower of the parish church as Gilbert Sinclair opened the lattice and stood by the open window of his dressing - room waiting. There was not a leaf stirring itt the garden, not a shadow save the motionless sbadows of the. trees. No light in the windows of the balcony room. The stars brightened in ths clear gray, and ia the soft twilight of summer all thiegs were dimly defined —not dark, but shadowy. The quarter chimed from the church - tower behind the trees yoraler, and still there was no inovetneiat in the garden. Gilbert stood rnotioniess. hie watch di- vided between the ad -Dutch garden with its geometrical flower -beds and stone sun -dial, and the windows of the balcony room. Att the sound of the church -clock dwindled slowly into sil- ence, a, light appeared in the center window, it candle held in it woman's hand, and raised above her head. Gil- bert could but faintly distinguish the dark* figure in the feeble glimmer of that single candle before figure and light, vanished. A. signal, evidently, for a minute later a man's figure appeared from the angle of the hedge, vthere it had been hidden in shadow. .A. man—tall, strongly. built —yes, just the figure that patient watcher expected—stepped lightly across the garden, carefully keeping to the narrow gravel -paths, leaving no tell- tale footprint on flower -bed or box - border. He reached the iron stair, mounted it swiftly, had his foot on the balcony, when Gilbert Sinclair fixed, with the unerring aim of a genetical sportsman and the firm hand of it man who hen made up his mind .for the worst. TJae figure reeled, swayed for a mo- ment on the topmost 'step, and thee rolled bankward clown the light iron stair, shaking it with the force of the fall, and sunk 'in a heap on the gravel path below. Gilbert waited, expecting to be thrill- ed bya woman's piercing shriek,' the despairing cry of it guilty soul; but no such cry came. All was darkness in the balcony room. He fancied he saw a figure a,pproach the. window and look out, but whatener that shapewas it vanished. before he could verify his doubts. • He went over to the thiraney-piece and pnt away, his gun as coolly asif the purpose for which he had Just used it were the matt ordinary business of daily lite; but this mechanical tran- gunny had very little. significance. It was rather the stolidity of a sletop- walker titan the calmness of al mind that realizes the weight and measure of its net. He went bath to the wie- dow. There lay the figure, huddled in a formless heap as it had fallen, tore - shortened from Gilbert's point of sigbt. The open hands clutched the loont gra- vel. No sound, no light yet in the ban conn room. "bh% de" not know what leas bap- pened, said Gilbert, grimly, "I had better go and, tell her, He unloeked his door and went out in the corridor. Ms wifen bedroom opened out of tee balcony room. The child slept itt a smaller room adjoin- ing that. He Went into the banony teeth and found it empty, then opened the bedroon door and paused on the threshold, looking in. Imecesible to imagine a. more peace- ful picture than that which met the husband's eyes. A night -lamp shed a taint light over the white -curtained bed, an open book and an extinguished candle on the little table by the bed- side showed that Constance bad read hereelt to sleep. Tee door of the in- ner room stood hah open, and Gilbert could site the little white crib. and the sleeping ail& The mother's face was handl), less placid in ite repose than the child's. Gilbert Sinclair felt as if this world and this life were one inextricable con- fusion. The anonymous letter had told him where and when to wateb—and the writer of that letter bad kept faith ith him so far, shire he had not watch- ed in vain—but this spectacle of iu- nocent repose, the mother sleeping gear the child, was bardly in keepsng. Gilbert paused irresolute, and then went to his wire's bedeide and roused her roughly with his strong hand up- ott her,' aria. The dark blue eyes open- ed suddenly and looked at him full of bewilderment. "Gilbert} Back to -night' I didn't ex- pert you. Why do look at me like that? What ha$ happened?" "Can't you guess? You didn't ex- pect me. You. had made your plans an corditigen You. had made au appoint- ment with your lover." Gilbert, are you mad?" "He has not disappointed you—be is Imre. net up and come aud see him. Quick. He is waiting." "titlbert, wIta,t have you been, doing? where have you been? Calta yourself, for Heaven's sake." She had risen and put on her slippers and dressing -gown, seared by her hus- band's look and the words, not know- ing whether to think him mad or drunk —recalling with a shudder that other scene 111 tile summer -house, and ex- peetmg some new viulenee. He would kill ber, perbaps. She trembled it lit - tis, believing herself in the power of a. madman, but tried to be calm. "Come," he said, grasping her wrist, en am too much a gentletuan to let yen. laver wait yender—on the threeln oh, of his own house, too. Strange that he should try to sneak in like a bur- gb.'; when he will be master here in fttv days," B. I dragged her into the next room, and to the balcony. "I. ray don't be so violeet, Gilbert. I will come anywhere you please," she said gravaly. From the balcony she saw that pros- trate figure at thc foot or the stairs, and gave a faint cry of horror "Gilbert, what have you done?" "My duty as a man. I should loathe myself if I had done. less." She flowed him down the steps, tremblieg in every limb, and elung to him as he knelt by the motiouless Iig- ure, and turned the face upward to the faint light of a new risen moon. A very famWarnace, but not the on Gilbert Sinclair expected to see. inee of Ins ally, James 'Wyatt, with the dull gray of death, b distorted.. A. mean, false face, i or death but death brought out dominant expression it lune more or- cibly than life had done. what have you clone?" re- peated Constance, sobbing hysterically. "Murder," answered hex husband, with a stolid despair. "1 bated this fellow badly enough, but 1 didn't mean to kill him. I meant to kill Sir Cy- prian Davenant, with whom you had made an appointment to -night, count- ing on my tiesence." "Gilbert, what have I ever done that you should think me the vilest of wo- men? 1 have never wronged you. by one thought about Cyprian Davenant which you might not know, I have never spoken a word to him which you might not hear—you and all the world. Your jealousy of him bee been mad- ness from first to last, and now it lhas ended in murder." "I have been trapped somehow. Some enemy has set it snare for me." "What are you to do? Oh, Gilbert, is he dead?" "Yes; the bullet finished hint. I aim- ed under his shoulder, where I knew it would be fatal. What am I to do? —nut and run, I suppose." "Yes, go, go; it is your only chance. No one knows yet. Go, for God's sake, this moment." "And leave you with a corpse on the premises—rather cowardly that." "Don't think of me—it is life or death for you. You must go, Gilbert. There is no help. Go, or you will be taken and tried and hanged," cried Constance, clinging to the iron rail, trembling, very cold, the ground reeling under laer feet. "Yes, that's thenatural sequence. Fool, fool, fool! Ala anonymous scrib- bler whet can have brought him here, and to the windows of your room? Con - steno% what does it mean/ Do you know why this man came?" But Constance could not answer him. She had fallen, fainting on the iron stair. Gilbert carried her back to her room, and laid her on her bed. She would come to her senses soon enough, HO doubt, poor wretch, he thought, hope- lessly. He hurried back to his victim, intent upon finding some nlew to Wy- att's presence in that place to -night. He ransacked the dead man's pockets, took out a bundle of letters, put them in his breast -pocket, and left the gar- den by the little gate in the holly hedge. The church -clock chimed the half hour as he entered the park. It seeroecl to him as if that last quarter of an hour had been half it life-thne. Now for the first time he dreve.beath, and began to think what he ought to do. Cut and run; yes, as his wife taid, that was about his only chance. He stopped for a minute among the shadows of the tall old elms, gaunt, ragged old trunks from which wintery blasts end summer storms had swept many a limb, stoned to "pull himself together," in his own phraseology, and settle what he should do. There was an up train—the last—due at the little station yonder at ten rain- ute,s before eleven. If he could catch that and sleep at his old hotel—the place where he was known—and his rooms taken for to -night? He would leave to run for • it, but it might he done; and. there was an alibi establish- ed at once, provided no one saw him at the station . i;hildren Cry for Pitcher's Castor Be reached the rough little by -road leading to the station, breathless, as the bell rang. He did not go into the sta- tion,, where the porters ixiight ha,ve, re- oogmzed hnyt, eutteerambled up the em- bankment, upon whine the station- master grew his potatoes and straw- berry plants, and was on the platform, et the end furtnest from the waiting - room and tioket office, nt tile, train canoe iti. It was fall of market people, soldiers or militia; noisy excursionists, Ile opened, it crowded third-class carri- age with his key and got in among the rabble. A sergeant an an advanc- ed state of beer was inclined to resent She intrusion, it woman with it baby seconded the • sergeant „ The, atmos- phere was cloudy with the reek of bad tobacco- Not ranch. °hence of recogni- tion here He had his season ticket,,but did not care to show it. The. tram had. only came from etraidstene$ He thought it safer to pay bit fare through at the station where tiokets were examined„ It was not quite midnight when Mr. Sinolair drove up to his hotel—a small house in St. jamens, chiefly affected by men about town. "Hoorn ready, James? 'Yes, of course it is, You got my telegram yesterday. Been dining with some fellows You can bring me a brandy and soda up- stairs„ That's all." "Sorry the horse lost, sir," said the Man, with respectful sympathy, "'Meat horse?" asked. Gilbert, with a vaeaut look. "Beg your pardon, sir—Goblin, sir. Thought be was safe to win the cup. Took the liberty to make my little vent. ture on bine You bein' a old custom- er, you see, six, and all of us feeline interested in him on that account." "net was it good, fellow. The ground was too hard for him—goes better in the dirt." He went up to his bedroom after this brief colloquy, leaving the head waiter under the Impression that Mr. Sinclair had been dining rather more Creely than usual . "Didn't seem to understand me when I spoke to him about bis awn 'oss," said the waiter to bis friends in coulee oil; stared at me reglar named," "Ah, pore feller, he's 'it pretty 'era to-dey, you may depend." Mr. Sinclair's last order to the wait- er who carried the brandy and soda to his bedroom was to be called at half past six next morning, "You'll have it cab at the door at a quarter past seven," he said; "I want to catch the seven -thirty train into Kent., I ought to bane gone home to- nigitt if I could have done it," "Yes sir—half past seven, sir. Any- thing particular you would like for brr,Oakhfaaanything." "4. "A bit. of fish, sir, and a spatch-cock or a detelt" suggested the waiter, per- tinaciously. Nothing can subdue that solicitude to obtain an order whion is the waiter's ruling passion, "Fish—flesh—anything," cried Gil- bert, kicking off his boots. "A salmon cutlet, sir, nith Dutch sass?" "An elephant, if you like. Get me She cab at a quarter past sevens A. hansom with a good horse." "Yee, sir, an 'ens= and a fast nss. Yes, sir. Tea or coffee, sir?" walteitferrnsSifnacci:.ir banged his door in the "The `Baron Osy' starts at eight to. morrow," said Gilbert, referring to his Bradshaw, the only literature he car- ried about him constantly., "I shall be in Antwerp on Saturday.' Then, atter a pause, he asked him- self. "Might it not be wiser to hold my ground and trust to the chapter of ac- cidents? Who is to bring tbat traitor's death home to me t 1 steep here to- night., No one saw me at Davenant." Again, after another interval of thought, I f can I be sure that no one saw er ? These things are always me to it man somehow. A g—an idiot—the halt—dumb some unexpected - witness s np against him, and puts the rope round his neck. My best chance is to put the setts between me and a coroner's jury. First, Antwerp, and then a steamer for South America—Carthagetme or some lawless place where it man might laugb at ex- tradition treaties. Besides, I'm sick of it all at home—too sick to stand to ney guns and outfacn suspicion—and live in this country with that dead man's face staring at me. No, I'll try some strange, wild land, a new life that will be fiery enough to burn out the mem- ory of the old one." He went to the mantel -piece where a pair of wax candles were burning with that air of elegant luxury by which your skilled hotel -keeper seeks to reconcile his customers to the extrav- agance of his °barges, and took James Wyatt's letters out of .his breast pocket, The first three or four be looked at were business letters, chiefly entreaties, to "renew" or carry over, or provide for some little bill just falling due, "like the best of gpod fellows." These Gilbert laid aside after a glance; but there was one at which he started as if he had touched a snake. It was in the same hand as the anonymous let- ter that had made hira a murderer. This, in plain words, was the gist of the letter—badly spelled, with a for- eigner's uncouth orthography; curious- ly worded, with a mixture of foreign idioms and illiterate English. "You tell me that all your promises amount to nothing—that you never meant to marry me„ Rather hard to discover this after having nursed my delusion so long. I was to be a lady. I was to take my place in the world. Bahl all lies 1 Lies, like your pretend- ed love—your pretended admiration. You ask me to go back to ray country, and promise if I consent to this Ishall be provided Tor handsornely—with fifty pounds a year for life—whether I remain single or marry—an independ- ence fax agirl like me, you say. Soit. i But, who s to secure to me this inde- pendence?, It may be paid for a year —two years, perhaps—and then cease. It must that I see you, Mr. Wyatt. It must 1 hear of your own lips what you mean. Your soft tongue is too strong for me. You could persuade me to do anything, to go any where, - to serve and obey you as your slave, but I Oen not obey to your letters s I do not un- derstand. I want to see things clearly —to have your views explained- to me. "Tau say that 1 am paSsionate—Vin- dictive—and that when last we met— and, ah how kind it was of you to come here at 1313r . request!—my vtol- ence almost frightened you. Believe me, I will not so offend again. Corea but once ranee-only:come and assure me with your own bps that this mis- erable pittance shall be, paid to me hon- orably yeer by year—gave me but your word for that, and I will go back to my friends in the south of France—ah ee sera loin de toi, mon aini —and you shall hear of me never again. "You tell me that you are no long- er friends with Mr. Sinclair, and that you can not cone to his house, and that if I want to gee you it ratist that I come to you. That is not possiblei without throwing up my place altogeth- er, for the housekeeper here is of the most tyrannical, and gives no servant Leave to absent herself, and 1 will not give up flutes ,service until am assured of my future. Give me then, it proof of your good faith by corning here. Give rae my pittance a year in advanee, and snow me, how it is to be afterward Paid Me, and I will trouble you no raore, "It will be very ease' for you to come on the evening of the 18ths Mr, tiedgoingMrs. Mrs. Sinclair are going to .A.scot on the 15tb; they will be absent some days, nem know• your way to the balcony room.. I shall be waiting for you tbere between ten and eleven on Thureday evening, and I will thow a light in the center witadow as a signal 'that the coast is clear. "Come if you with me to trust youe Come if you do not witt me to betray you. "Yours as you treat rne, "Melanie Duport." This letter showed Gilbert Sinclair She diabolieal trap that had been set for James Wyatt and for biraself. He hen been made the instrument of the Erencl. woman's revenge. In the face of Me revelation what was he to do. Carry out bis intention; go to South America and leeve his wife in the power or this fiend e Gilbert Sinclair was not bad enougli fax that. "I'll risk in and go back to Devon - ant," he sold. "How do I know what this wretch might do? She might lay her lover's death at my wife's door, drag my wife's nauae in the gutter. No; at any bazard to myself I must be' there, and, if ne- cessery, this letter must be shown at She inquest." (To Be Continued.) SLAVES OP THE TEA TRADE. The liudian Coolies Held on the CeYien Planta% WM. A. great deal of hard and ill -paid work goes to the producing and preparation of tea for tin market: Edward Car - venter says that the coolies of Ceyloe are unfortunate. They go over in gang's front. the mainland of India, raen, wo- men and thildreaL An agent is sent to conduct them to their destinatimeand on their arrival at the tea estate each one finds himself several rupees in debt for the expense of the transit. Their average amount of wages is about 12o. a day; but each maaa is set a certaln task, and if it is not complet- ed he receives only half -pay, so that if he is slow or lazy, or ill, he may ex- pect but 6c. daily. Under these circum- stances, the debt keeps on increasing, for the estate is fax in the country, away from any town or village, and the tea company sells rice and the other neces- saries of life to its own coolies.. They can not buy elsewbere. "Oh, but they like to be in debt," said it young planter, "They think they are not doing the best possible thing for themselves unless they owe as much as tbe company will allow." That planter was very young, and per- haps he did not realize the force of what he was saying; but in any case, what a suggestion of despairl A.t the end of the week the coolie does not re- ceive neer manse; his debt is simply ticked. down a little deeper, if he runs away to a neighboring estate, he is soon sent back in axons. He is a slave, and must remain so to the enden his days; but poor.food, thin clothing and the cool tur and mists of the raountabas soon bring on lung disease, of which the sligbt-bodied Tamil easily dies, "I dare say threepence a day seems to you very small wages," said aplant- er to it traveler, "but it is really sur- prising to see how little these fellows will live on." "It is surprising indeed, when you see their thin frames that they live at aill" "Ale, but they are much worse off at home!. You should see them when they come from India!" "And so the conversation ended. Like wine, tea demands a vast amount of toil in order that it may reach its lovers, and like wine again, a great amount of suIfering. FRANCE LOSING IN POPULATION. Cotnpleted Figures or the Latest Census Cause Marin. At lest we have the completed fig - tuns of the census of this year. As was predicted, there is, indeed, a slight in- crease in population since the census of five years ago, but it is so small that it shows that the ratio of increase has grown so little that from now on there will be a net decrease in population if present causes continue to operate in spite of immigration. The total poliu- tenon was 38,228,969. At the last cen- sus, on April 12, 1891, it was 38,095,150, showing an increase of only.133,819 in- ho,bita,nts. The increase is almost ex- clusively confined to the cities. • In six- ty-three departments the population has decreased. In thirteen departments the net increase has been. only 10,000, leav- ing only eleven departments out of the tvhole of France tnat shows any increase worth speaking of. The department of the Seine, with Paris the capital, shows the largest in- crease, 197,008, which is greater than the total increase of the whole country. There are no specially heavy decreases itt a,ny particular department, and they all seem to be afflieted with a kind of dry rot, which is slowly a,nd surely sap - plug the vigor of Prance. In 1886 the increase over 1881 was 565,380; in 1891 over 1886 it was 208,584 and now, in 1896 over 1891, only 133,819. In ten years from now, if this movement is continu- ed, France will have a smaller popula- tion than it has to -day. There has been some migration from one department m to another, notably to the dustrial centers of the Seine -Inferieure end the Somme, but in most of these cases the migration to the cities has not made up far the loss of popuLstion through lack of births in the country. We axe in the presence of the sad fact that eopulation is being consciously limited, even 'in the oountry, whose pea- sant; stook lies heretofore been looked upon as the backbone of the virtue of the country. The size of families is regulated by -financial considerations only. In the city hnmorality is are.asing, and marriage., 'except as a means of legally transferring property, is becoming the eXception. When rlaby waS sick, We =We her Ca gbeAla• When she was a Child, she cried for Castoria. When she became Itliss, she clung to Ciestoria When she hag Children, ehegavotbens Castor/A The larvae of the meat fly increase in weight about 200 per cent. the first day after they ar e hatched, PRACTICAL FARMING. • FALL PLOWING. Among the arguments advanced for the advantages whine zna,y accrue to the tamer who plows in the fell, and the way to AVIV, we append what a writer in th,e Farmers' Advocate has to say on the subject: • t• "While nearly all lands intended for cereal cropa aaext season are plowed in the autumn some are much more benefited by fall plowing than others. Those are stiff clays, clay loams and heavy loaras, and any kind of soil teat is inclined to become more compact by the rains- Fell plowing will be greatie' beneficial to such soils on accouet of thee action of the frost, which pulverizes and reduc,es them to a finer condition than could be effected in any other man- ner; besides, such soils become thor- oughly aerated, and through the agency of the sun, snow, rain and air, such chemical changes are wrought by the blending and. mingling df the different elements contained, that these can read- ily be taken up by the plants as their proper nourishments. The frost lifts the surface of the soil, rendering 15 raore open, porous arid flexible for the next season's work, as well as increas- ing its fertility. Lands that sbould be plowed, only in the spring and. not un- til wanted for planting are lightnendy soils, nide as dry quickly in the wind. If such lands ere plowed in the fall and thus exposed to the rains, atmos- pheric influences and the sun, their fertilizing properties are very liable to be washed out or exbaled; and. such soils derive but little fertility from the atmosphere; le fact, not enough to com- pensate for len loss sustained by the exposure., 'While thin is true, it must not be forgotten that a, crop on such land. would stiffer much more from early summer droughts if plowed in the spring than ixi tlae fall, except it be a hoed crop, which can be kept moist by surface tiliage. "In plowing itt the fall it is always well to so turn the furrows that they will lap over one upon the other, tartan ing what es called. the 'lap. furrow,' wlaich will admit on a free circulation of air by forming an air -chamber under each furrow the entire length of the field- By this means it better drainage of the land will be secured, the soil aerated and it greater benefit deriv- ed through the agency of the frost, since not only the furrow -slice will be froz- en, hilt the sail beneath it to quite a depth, thu$ breaking it upand render- ing it more porous and friable. Lands plowed in this manner are in good con- dition when the frost leaves the soil and are ready .for ass much earlier than when plowed in the springt There are variously shaped furrows, mob of whice has its advantages., The crest- ed or trapezoidal is sometimes made ha plowing sod. It has the advantage of leaving a large surface exposed to the action of the weather, and it also har- rows down well. It has the advantage, however, of leaving some soil unmoved in the bottom of the fur- row„ 15 is narrow and hence it slow znethod. The rectangular furrow slice does not harrow down as easily as the foregoing, but it answers a good pur- pose in stubble or black land and is better for sod in most respects than the first named, The furrotteslice lies at an angle of forty-five degrees; and the proportion of depth to breadth is as seven to ten. The parallelogram- raatic furrow slice combines. all the good qualities of the former -two, cut- ting all the ground in the bottom of the furrow and is easily harrowed down. This is the furrow most commonly used by first-class sod men at the -plowing matches. It leaves a large surface ex- posed, allows for good drainage and is easily harrowed down to form a seed bed. The wide, flat furrow slice turns completely over, burying completely all vegetation, It is made by the short mouldboard of the stubble or chilled plow. It is very suita.ble for light land at any time of the year., and for stubble or black land when fairly dry, in the spring or summer season. Some good farmers laa.ve recommended ridging the entire field by turning two furrows together, or by what is termed raftering, or half -plowing, The land is plowed to a depth of frotn 'three to tour incbes. The furrow -slices are wide and are made to fall upon the land, so that all alternative strips are dug out. In plowing sod for immediate use whether for planting or for sowing it is important that every foot of sur- face soil be completely inverted and the furrow slices laid regularly in their ap- propriate places; and the furrows should be of uniform depth and width through- out their entire length. If the furrow sliee is too wide for the preceding fer- n:yet its outer edge will be lapped over the previous furrow and be liable to be turned back during the after culti- vation, of the plow. If the plow dodges its work and takes more land than it Call turn, ugly depressions are left which cannot be properly filled by any amount of subsequent harrowing. It is, therefore, of the greatest importance that the plow should run steadily and with a uniform width end depth of fur- row. Many make the mistake of us- ing too short a coupling between the plow and whiffletreen EIVith a mod- erately long coupling a misstep of the animals is -less felt and the plow is Less liable to leave its place than with a shorthitch, and by using a wheel to govern the depth of furrow the plow will run just as easily with a long as with a short hitch, provided the amount of work done is the same in both cases. "Depth of plowing must depend upon certain conditions, which raay be . as various as the characters of the soils cultivated a,nd the crops grown, some soils and crops requiring much deeper plowing than others; hence each farm- er must be • a "law unto himself" ice with matters and by -a, careful study of the netere of his sail and by experi- ment learn the depth of soil stirring best adapted to his own farm.: As. a general rule, however, the plowing should be as deep as the soil, or rather; the plowing should go to the subsoie if within plowing depth—and. should sometimes break up the subsea, but should rarely bring it to the surface. When the surface soil is very thin and it is desirable to deepen it, it will be Weil to plow an inch or so deeper each year into the e,ubson, mingling it with the surface soil gradually Ln this way, together with the application of man- ure, until the soil attains the required depth. • It is not safe to deepen it much more than this degree- each year, as the surface Soil will be liable to income detetiorated by ,the mixture of a great' amount of this raw nib -soil, since time will be required for it to become suit- ed to plant growth." There are soaps and soaps but only one oap lit which is the soap 'of soaps and washes clothes with less labor and great- er comfort. 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