Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1907-9-26, Page 7"1,-••• • 4-0-1-o+04-0.1ro-t-o-0-a-p-o-4-o4-o-t-o-4-o4-04-o÷o4-o-}-04.04-34-0-4-04-1 OR, A SAD LIFE STORY 41.-o+o4-o-eo-e-c>4-0+0-4-0-0-04.0-4-oro-e0+0-4-34-04-o4-o-s-o-f-o+04-o+ ClIAPTER LX111. The Ilyngs are gone, having got off just winds the time nest suggested by the et& mates mother. But, eller all, ha has to be =Tied On bond the lit.gerte lederere. Since his interview with Miss Le Merchant, ,ris progress to - weeds recoverylum scarcely, been so smooth or so fast as before; and per- haps his mother is right, to bear him away with what seems suchmoverhaste, even though It be on ments shoulders that he hos to make his exit. At all events, he is goner. The hotel—of which a part of the Inmates liaVe seen him only prostrate and bleeding, and the other Mid larger part have uot seen Min al all, but have had their curiosity whetted by the tale of Me calamitous arrival, only to have It balked by his hurried depar- ture—crowd into the entrance -hall, some on one pretext, some on another, meet on no pretext at all, to see him go. There are only two of the visitors whose faces cannot 1.13 seen among the good- naturedly curious and sympatitelically pitiful group that watch the exodus of the little party. Who shall say how tease two spend the hour of ByngOe de- moque° out of their lives? Jim bas ac- companied the invalid to the quay to see ihe last of him; has stayed with him WI the final bell warns non -passengers off the boat; has left him with all the proper requests and adjurations to let him know how the sick man bears the voyage; how they get on, etc. But as Mrs. 13yng elands on the upper deck and watches the trail of churned water lengthening between her end the dwindling high white town, she has it feeling that her old friend sloes mat 'Ike her as well as h did, aod that i1 will never again be quite the saute thing between them. The fLyngs are gone—have been gone a fortnight—and Isinrch i.s here. Over the villa faces the legnonias have bro- ken into riotous flower, and the snowy - blossomed fruilstrees, that have put on their snowy garments but lately, stand out in bright fragility against the iteaV'y green •that never, even in January, erases to wrap itself about the lovely Moslem town. Every clay for the last fortnight, Sim, too, has heen going, but he is not gone yet. His guns have arrived ten ,days ego, and hisfriend has expressed by posl and wira his weariness of explor- ing the bazaars of Tullis alone. But he is not yet gone to join that impatient lriend, Why does let. still linger hi n ;elect, where, as he had justly explained 10 Cecilia, there is nothing for him to AP)? Why indeed? 11 10 a question that, by night anot day, by the insolence of the ste ring moonlight which slides in ugion Ills restless open eyes by night, under the ilres of the great spring sun at noon, he .asles himself. All the an- swer he 'can give is that 11 would be hardly friendly to Moose this moment, when she is so down in the world, to leave Elizalaeth. Slio is down in the world; there can Le no mistake about that. Even her la- ther, who has returned from his wan- derings, must bo aware of this Met. Perhaps that is the reason why he no longer snubs hee as numi as he did; why Ile even accepts. with some sem- blance of graciousness, those affectionate end watchful ministredions which she tenders him with es gentle an assiduity ns in her brighter days.. 1301be has still no great appetite for her society; and she,. unre.eentfully divining 11, gives up to aim, without repining, tho one great &Owe of her melancholy—her mother's correSteny, If Jim were gone, the illost, Tart; of her life would be spent alone. She tette him so—tells Mtn, with a sweet flattering smile, how 'Mach his comrade- ehip is to her. Has lie any right to rob her 01 11)01 last prop? 11 is only to him - sell that the breathless clamberings up the steep short eitt, to El Bier, deep and brambly as her own Devonshire lanes, that the gazings in common over tile pigeon -necked sea and the omelet hills, can do arty Mum. They may put a sting into his own after-life—a sting that all the empty years that follow may bo powerless to extract.; but to her they serve only es a 'narcotic to numb the in- tensity of that, ache which the cured madness of llyng has left behind it. Some day, of COlirSe, ho must leave her; he cannot pass liis whole life at her side; eome day soon leave her to walk and ER and study her Ronan gearnmar for- lornly alone. But it must, not be until she bas 31 little plucked up her spirits. As soon as he sees any signs of this occurring, he will quit Algiers—Mitt it, oemfortablY, with the conscloosness of having done it good-natured thing, by which nobody is the woise. This is the Grenpromise at whIchelle arrives with the intellect adViSer—cOnscience, common- sense, what you will—that is hourly ads :nomishing him to be gone, Does Eliza- keth guess that her eetctilion of the cern- seinen to whom she 80 desolately clings bangs on her retraining always as crushed Ms the first tee days after ihoSe ceuel interviews with the Byngs, mother and sonohad left, her ? if she clint, ,sho wured probably seek to cheek the first feint, revivings of cheerfulness In her in- velerMely gay sped. Instant], while her heart is yet at its sickest, she earnestly tries lc foster the tiny seeds of cheerful- ness, saying to herself that it is mere &elfishness in her to infliet her diental- Pess upon lice one friend; seeking rather ltft his epirile, tvinett Seem seareely less drooping then her own. Dote he enter. into 'her motive? Does sot 1) 1511)01 &rile° him with a epetice 01 shook how euperficial mug be the rot - hire, hoW on the surface the puttering, of ono who ean already begin Again to silto ti miechievotts totereee 111 the WI, eleW Wevintell's emoting, and to mimio. bfrosh the Cookery twang of the Feeneh itteintele English governess ' IL is three weeks to -day since the 133.1igs left. The weather is fine, and a bot etinbearn I.s lighting up the painful indecision of Jines face, as he stands in his leeireein with an open telegram in hie hand, whiehotwo hours ago W118 put into it. 11 18 from Ills friend at Tunis, and is conceived in terms widen demon- strate 111131 the indignation of the sender lies got the better of his economy. It cIlbablIs e stringent representation of his Inability any longer to dance attendance U1013 Burgoyne's whims, and a peremp- temy request, answer paid, to be al, once informed either that he will join tilin im- reediaMly, or that the idea of their joint excursion bus been entirely abandoned. Ile is standing holding the paper in mis- erable uncertninty, torn by doubts, renl hi tweln by conflicting emotions, when the nefse of voices and laughter outside the house draws Win to the window. The room ho has occupied since. he vacated his own foe Byng looks out over Om hail -door, and in front of that, door a small group is gatheeecl—the vicomte, his two boys, his girl, her governess, a coal -black negro who elirVes as kiterben- mate to the establishment, and—Eliza- beth. They are all gathered round a tiny donkey, such a bourriquot as the valiant Tartarin slew, Which has evidently been brought up for sale by its Arab master. Attached to its head -gear are two long reins, and holding these reins is Miss Le Nlarchant. As Jim looks out, the bourriquet, taking some strange freak into its little brown head, sets off gal- leping al, a prodigious rate; and Eliza- beth—white gown and blonde hair fly- ing—gallops butter it. As she is dragged a' racing pace down the drive, her im- moderate laughter cranes borne back on thc wind to the spectator of wborn she is unconscious. The latter has turned away from the window, and sat down to his writing - table, where he is scribbling a hasty artswer to the missive which has cost him such long deliberation, It does not tette a minute to pen now that he has once made up Ids mind, nor can it be more than flee from the moment of the donkey's start to that when the telegram is on its way to the Post Offlee in Za- meth the porter's hand. The die is cast. When this is the case after long irreso- lution, there niust always be a sense of relief, and, perhaps, therefore, it is re- lief which Jim's ince, thrown down upon Ms arms rested on the table, expresses. Since no man can see that hidden face, it is impossible to say. Ile has certainly nc wish that Elizabeth should be unhap- py bier patient, white misery had filled lihn with tender pity and relit; and yet her laugb, sweet and delicate as it WaS wile all ils excess of merriment, rings jarringly in Ms ears. She is incapable of a great constancy. He had promised himself to slay with her until her spirits were restored. Well, he has kept his promise handsomely. He has done with her, and her contradictions now. 11 will be someone else's turn with her next. Whose? Tho vicomte's, perhaps. By -and -bye he rouses himself. Only a part of his -task is yet done. Ile must telt thern that, he is going. As he passes the looking -glass, he sees that his hair is roughened and °rectal by his late atti- tude. He :passes a brush 'tastily over it. He must, not look a, Bedlemite Mee Byng, Hi !Inds Mr. and Mrs. Le Merchant sit - Wig under the ficus-tree on the terrace— the terrace which, at thls hour, they have to themselves..She is reading aloud 'to Mtn paregraphs out of the Algerian Ponce, leanslating as she goes along, since his French is about on a par with that of most Englishmen of his stand- ing. Ho is leaning back in et wicker chair, with an expression of placid good -hu- mor on his lace. Across his knees the Intel cat—a plat11 and illenalured animal —lies, loudly purringwhile he obliging- ly scratches her judiciously whenever She indicates a wish tor that relaxation, AP. Burgoyne reinemieces, Mr. Le Mar chant had alway,s been on very friendly terms with the beasts of the field and the fowls of Ilm ale. Abed' the little gtoup there is such an air of content, of harmony, Of completeness in itself, that none can connect the idea erf a third peeson with it in anything bet an in- terloping altitude. And yet there is a third person whotto presence must be continually infringing its happy duality, since niche of her own in life she hos none. "Are ynu looking for Elizabeth?" asks Elizabeth s mother, laying'down her pa- per as the now -comer draws near; "she hes walked to Biermaedrels." The intimate friendliness of her. smile ns she gives him thls bit of information —the matter of course taking for granted that 110 must be seeking het' whose so- ciety he has so wholly monopolized of letc—planis a nevi sting 111 Jim's sore licert, and robs 111)11 for the motnent of the pewee to maim his announcement. "She hes not, been gone more Hunt ten minblee"—still with that bright look of kindly confidence thet she Is aneweeing hls theughts. . "1 me looking for yon 011," he allatvere nbeuptly. "I etane to -tell you that I ant off tomorrow." The shaft is sped, Though he is not looking at, Mrs, Le Merchant, he knows then her face has tallest, Upon Mr, Le Marchent'e, on the contrary, an added shede of cheertabless is visible, Mr. Le 1(1583115011 1131,0 ceased any ()Vert apposi- (len to the yoong man's intimacy with his Welly; but none loss is the yelieg Mail aware that UM father has nes quiesced but grudgingly in the fooling In which he had foond 11101 00 his Velum from Ids tour, . "I have had a wire teem my friend hi Tunis; 110 is becoming dangerous"— laughing, a, how forcedly, "Yett 0310 gaitig le Tunis?", says Mr, Le Merchant, almost cordially. "You nre quite right; it Is a very interesting place, Ono dees refilly see tbe genuine Emst there, not tho mongrel botelepotch one hos here.' "Is riot it rather. late for a trip InM the interior'?" asks the wife. The geniality has gone out of ber lone, oral the sun- shine out of her Mee, here is it touch et Involuntery wielfulneLe In both, Ito Interim.? 011, yee, of course, Mw dawdling r —wore laugliter—"has knocked that on the head. ) have let the lime for that go by. We 1111end to run over to Spain and see the Alhambra end the Escurial," There is a general silence. Well, it is dnne. hUShand or wife 31101)01 any effort to alter his resolution or de- tain him. They do not 01011 put any emestions to hint as to his future pro- jeets. Ile lies nothing to do but re- move himself and allow them to resume Mat ltuPPe little duct which he bad dis- turbed. "Tholraln sels off at such an enearth- ly hour toenoteow ntorning—six o'clock 01 thereahouls; it would lake three days to get theme 11 11 did not—that I must put my things together this afternoon, hull see you again, of course, before I go," "Oh, of course," replies Mr. Le Mer- chant, in thn easy and comfortable lone of one to whom it is a =flee of supreme indifference whether 01' n*t that, fare- well meeting ever lakes Mace, and Mrs. Le Merchant says nothing at all. He has adduced his neeessary pack- ings as an excuse for leaving them ; though, indeed, they are neither wished far nor asked as an excuse; yet no- thing is further from his intentions than lc enter at once upon that occupation. Sho hes walked lo Biermandrels. In five minutes Ile is walking thither too. There aro a couple of roads that lead there, and of course he takes the wrong one—the same, that is, that slie bad taken, so that. although he walks fast, yet, (honks to her start, of him, he has reached the pretty little flowershoded French village which, with its white church anti its Ernie Communale, looks as if 11 were taken to pieces at night and put to bed In a toy-box—he has reached it, and has, moreover, traced bait his homeward way, beige° he ever - takes her. The path by which he returns Is a rough Arab track, mit in low steps up the hill, each step a mass of fossil- shells—whelk, and scallop and oyster shells, whose inhabitants died—strange thought I—before Adam saw Eden's fair light. 11 10 a charming road, out, in part, through the red roclo over which the southern greenery tumbles. He has approached quIM close to her before she sees him. She is sitting on a camp - stool by tho wayside, looking vacantly before her. Her figure is rather Moped, and her straight back bent, as if it were roe worth the trouble to hold 11 U. 130- sicle her, on tlm ground, lie a little tin color -box and waterboltle and a draw- ing-boerdlie wishes, with a neer pang, that ho had not come upon her SU suddenly. He is afraid that this is one of We aspects of her that, will stick most, pertinaciously in his memory. Catching sight of him, her whole sad, listless face lights up. "IL is you b I was sura you would come. 1 told them to tell you whero had gone. 1 meant -to sketch" --with a glance at her neglected implements— niomi,, ,L,,,__wee a sigh—"as you see, I did "Are you down on your luck?" he asks, sitting down by her side; "you did not seem so"—trying to barden les heart Ly forcing a recollection of her extrava- gant gaiely—"a 1111111 while ago, when you were prancing after that jacleass," "Is not ho a darling?" cries she., hur- rying up the end of her sigh to make room for a smile of pleasure. "I want to buy him; only 1 am afraid Ile might cite of sea -sickness going home." "Perhaps"—scarcely knowing what he issnYeinog "Iht)ld liko to buy a little cart to harness him to—stieh a one as I Saw just now going along the road, drawn by a tiny bourriquot that might have been twin brother to mine. Some Arab chil- dren had dressed out both hitn ancl his cart, with branches of that greet, yellow fennel—his long ears and his little nose peeped oet so pathetically between; another child walked after barefoot, %%giving a great aconthus-leaf. You ne- ver saw anything so pretty ! Yes, you must break mine in for me," smiling again, "it will not take more than a week, I am sure." If it clid not take more than a day even, I am afraid 1 should have to de- cline the appointmenIO—selzing this opening to blurt out his news. "I ain off at six o'clocic toonorrow morning, I—I want to see the Escurial." She bad been almost garrulous about the tittle donkey, and he hnd %visited to slop her. In that he has undoubtedly suceeeded. How the asphodels cover the banks on either hend 1 They have come into furl flower since% last. Ile passed this way ; MO branching stem, white blossom, and pinky bud; here they are in thousands. 11 is n. soft day, on which scents lie heavy, and their strong odor—thet is scarceiy perfume, and yet has an odd acrid charm -1111s the Mr. "Everything must come la all end," he S01'5 Mildly, She is apparently not going to metke any mom effort to define him then her inother. Ile has every vigilb to come end go where antl Mom he plensrs. sieee Amelia died, to no 'human brier; is he ac- countable for his melons, and yet there Is both guilt and misery in his voice as he utters his platitude, "It hae been groin good luck for me that you' have stayed so long; I know that 11 is out of pure kindness that you have done it, 3111(1 (1, has made ell the clIfferenee to 1110. 1-1 ant quite sot 11p again now, thanks to you; and --and summer ls coming on, and I -shall do very well—capitally 1 She bas detected—what is, indeed, pretty obvitets—the deep distress of hie fare and voice, and, in ber hebilitel un- selfishness, lice 01311 thosght is to re- lieve him of any self-reproncliful 11113- givings nun he is doing aught, cruel in robbieg her of the support of Ills corn- paniortship. In her tono 15 'nothing bin the meekest grelltude, It ie her misfor- tune, not hoe Melt, (het In tt them is pot eheernitnese too, Ilel; het. "gentle phyelc.," Meiotic] of curing, seems to eg, efeevale his ill, "11, must 001110 10 1311 Mel 501110 111130 01' other 1" 110 MU1111111"S wretchedly, 08 11 Lo Mansell, "Yes 1" Deed slienoe. Below the slight eminence where they sil, the road winds while, and upon the opulent low green hills on its further side, whet a banquet, of color 1 On 0110 steep Om° the plough is driving its difficult furrows, turning up the rich red earth, shaded with deepet. claret antl lighter pink steins. 13Oneath a square of sione-pines leolte like a green velvet harellorrbier spread on the hillside, and 03(1' the rest of upland eucalyptus, 8.1n1 0111te, and NW - bit; hold their elot of various verdure; while on the tiptop of everything against a weirdly pale -blue sky -field, a Slooriela villa lifts its white flank, How loug have Hwy both been staring dully at that fair prospect before Eliza- beth again speaks "You were% 31 very good friend to mei" She had not, meant that pest tense 1lS er. arrow to erste!. Into bis heart; but it sticks there barbed, "I do not Itnow heiv." "Ana friends—real good (reads— should not have concealments teen each other, should they? They should tell one another about themselves?" A pause, "I have often wished—often tried to tell you about myself; but 1 mild nat. I never could] 1 can tell you le -clay ; if you wish, il you cart to hear. Do you care?" "Do I care?" What a small battlefield those three words make for the anger and agony they express to light upon 1 Another long pause. She has taken off her hat, and now passes her handkerchief over her dump forehead. "1 hall be all rigid, when I have once begun, but it is badto make El start." "Do not make IL I do not tell me I I adjure you not to tell me ! it hurts you too much 1" "11 would hurt me more to let you go withourtelling you. Do you remember" —rushing desperately into her subject— "at the time you stayed wIth us at the Meat, that there- was a great talk among us of my having my portrait painted?" He Lint bows in an eager strain- ing of his memory. "Yes. I recollect." "Father was wonderfully proud of 1110 in those days; it seems impossible to be- lieve it now"—with a passing look ot in- credulity at her own statement—"but he was." "Yes, yes." "Do you remember all the arranging end planning as to who was to be the artist, and that he WRS to come and stay in 1110 house to paint it?" Jim has put his hand up to his fore- head as if to quicken the return of those feint and distant impreselons which are eroning out in stronger and stronger colors on memory's surface. "Yes, yes; Ile WaS not an Englishman, W115 ho We used to laugh about him" --adding stroke to stroke in order to convince her of the accuracy of his re- colleollens—"used to call him the 'dis- tinguished foreigner.'" "Did we? Yes"—s10wly--01 remember now that we did. Well" --gathering her- self up for a supreme effort, panting painfully, and turning her head quite aside so that he my hall) no glimpse of her face—"he unto and he stayed two months, and at tue end of those two months 1-1—tan away with Illin • (To be continued). A SAILOR'S WORK ALOFT. The Clever Feat of a 3ack Tar in a Raging Gale. Much of the romance of sea life in Ibis past lay in the fact that a largo part of the sailor's work was done aloft. The Sea Breeze describes a feat once performed by a skilful seaman. Tho good .ship Living Age, like other fine shipsof forty years ago, had her three royal -masts tipped with gilded balls. They were for show in port, but were taken down at sea. On ono oc- casion, however, the balls were neg- lected until the second dity out, and when the mato ordered them down, the ship was struggling in a gale under close -reefed topsails. The balls were successfully removed from the mainmasb and mizzenmast, be' the men sent to the foreroyalonest- head came back Without the ball. 1115 litele wonder that he dici so. The royal - mast -head extended as a bare pole about eight, feet above the eyes of the rigging, At Um top was an iron rod which supported the ball; a hollow shank six or eight inches long at the bottom of the bull slipped down upon /110 rod. 'rite sailor had to climb the pole, melte a piece of merline fast to the shank of the ball, so it should not go overboard when unshipped, then take a marlinespike, slung from his neck by a lanyard, and knock upon the ball to start it, off. This would be something oi a job wit the ship at anchor in smooth water. With a ship thrashing about in a plc it was too such. The job was given 10 anOlher man, Hinckley, who on the next voyage was second mate, end later mate and can' lain. Hinckley took the merlinespike, climb -- ed to the ball, and ancr being fiercely swung nbout in curves nncl circles end ellipses with an amplitude of forty io fifty fret ehr what seemed nn internam able time, while the old ship plunged and reared and rolled in tbe hetivy seas, finally came down with the bell., FLOWERS LAST *LONGER. Alanoet everyone likes to keep newers in one's room, 11030 le a littlo hint that wilt enable you to present° theln in Water' Much longer Man they would last in cedieney eirelice.tancee. With a knife melte a slit at the bottom of the Mello The flower is then ;Ole to tuck up armee Wettee, and therefor° to lest, retaining its freshness fon a longer period, DISCREET. "IS he men of diseretton?" "Sure. ;When ho writes o letter to a gm whom he Ioldressee ess 'Darling Baby' ho uses the type machine and doesn't Oen Sign Ids initinia;" ) ON 11-1E FARM. W"WW1/4"1146"4"Vf :ABE OF YCRINGIGS. The prospect Ls that the 'supply of therm hogs will be short the ;coming winter and spring, and that prices will rule hige in this country. Tie, outlook pistulloierm suer 011,311031),esuginetriool,ortit;ilimiirneinitnhge bitterly of the shertage of pigs, and are forced to handle 11103e SeCond-CIUSS otodueL from eutsele sources than they would If lite supply of fleet -clew were sufficient, Many fanners fail to make a suecess of heeling fall pigs during the Wilder 1114)11111.3, and Many have I.e ecene cliecouragerl through failure and have ebandoned the work. On the ether hand, hot a few have succeeded satisfactorily, and innole 11 131 prolituble business. What is the seerfi of their succe.s!s? Is 11 question others .should 13115113i• and isltely, in order that they may share in the good meets going. Probubly pert of the dillemity in carry- ing pigs through the winter In a grow- ing: and Improving condition is due having the litters come too late le the Pull. September and OelobtT Elr0 the favorite menthe to 'have them come, es ibey may be kept running out on the ground and the grass a good part of the time for two or three inonths, treat - relent Which is essential to Me growth elf bone, the development of natecle, and Lee laying of the foundation of a vig- orous constitution, which evil] enable them lo withstand tho effects of the en - leveed confinement due to snow and the COLD WEATHER IN WINTER. Much trouble is experienced from crip- pling of pigs in winler, apparently from rheumatism, but probably from inactive livers and imperfect digestion or tie- rengement of the stomach, due to lack ot exercise, and possibly from feeding to much cold, sleppy food, which, in cclel eveathee, may well account for e sluggish circulation of the blood and consequent inection of the organs of the system which perform the tune - Liens of digest -ton and assimilation. 11 there is reason to believe that the ail- ments which so often check the growth and health of pigs in winter aro due to the system of feeding above Indicated why noi try the, system of feeding Ly Which the grain is fed dry, either 33-11010 or ground, and the drink given in a separate trough, to be tak.en when re- quired. We haVe, seen pigs intern ad- mirably in winter In very ordinary guar lees, fid in this evey. Most of the hogs ruised in the corn -growing States nee fed whole corn, on the ear, or !Sliellen and scattered on the ground or on plank pla Lforms; and nowhere are so many 80 euccessfully vaieed and filled for market, the principal elfillculty there tieing that the hogs, being kept in suoh largo numbers; bunch together too closely, and are liable tn berene over - heeled from contact of their bodies. rnel to catch cold when separated. It is, we believe, sound doctrine that food eaten elowly, and ilearoughly masticat- ed and mixed with the saliva of he glands of the mouth, is best filled *or being rentlily digested, the exertion lc - (mired to pick up thinly scattered grain or meal in a flat-bottomed trough tends to keep up iho blood circulation, and the proms of mestication is much mere complete than in swallowing slop- py food, In the eaely yenrs of fann- ing in this country, 11 was the 0001' 51013 practice to keep porkers till they were fifteen to eighteen months old 1)e - fore fattening; they were carried over the first winter ethicist invariably by sentlering whole peas on the frozen ground or on plank floors, or in houghs, and given water separaterly, and were fattened at last to great weights on whole peas, with water to drink, yet rheumatism and winter crip- pling was practically AN UNKNOWN AILMENT. Pigs seldom go Wrong in summer where they are allowed to run on the ground, with access to grit and grass, and if we cannot have summer condi- lions in winter, Lha best, we can do, i1 would appear, is to gel as near as we tan to it by adopting methods of treat- ment which aid nature to do its work, despite the handicapseof font and snow. To this end, it is surely worth whtle lo eepertinent, by supplying the needs of the animal system, by providing kone-and-muscle-forming Mods, and feeding them in the manner bes5 calcu- lated to aid digestion anti assimilation. Well -cured clover or nlfalfa hay, cut Up fine, trot fed in combination with pulped mangles or sugar beets and tt little meal, should answer admirably Mr this purpose, and should greatly re- eitiee the cast of production, as corn - roared with the common orectice of heavy feeding of grain meals, much of which is often worse then wasted when the enthrals are knocIted all their bal- ance, and lose ground, instead of gain- ing in condition and weight. It would cost but little to provide a load or two of gravel hi a Covered place, or to car- ry over the coal ashes for this purpoee, eaege, some of ese renigh wood lying ov to partially burn, under cover of around the yards to produce charcoal, to which the pigs weld be given tie- reess. A Mixture of salt and sulphur and Wood ashes, as a condiment, Rept melee cover .in a low, flat box, so the pigs can help themselves, may move the Savior of life and vigor. These ere but Witte which 111131' 801'1,0 a helpful purpose in selving the emblem Of Suc- cesstul winter protection of bacon 10 111301, 1110 good deinnoti and DrieeS of the preSent, At least, the suggestions offer- ed the open to discussion, which is enrnestly invited. Who w111 be !he first to take a hand in it, and add hie merle to the solution of the question? ^-^ TneAsunE TOE DESERT, In the Sahara Alt Properly Is•Expressed by Camels. Primitive pooples who have no money measure all tattles by that peg:Ate:5.10n which is mast desired and most caSily transferred. Thus 011101111 most, of the irmabitants of the Selene the camel is Om measure of all eulues. Property, rivites and 00111318 are synonyrnoliS terms among most of the dwellers in the. Sahara. De. Goldstein of Germany wrote a while ago that if a Tuareg were set dewn in the streets of 13erlin the busineee blocks and residences would tionvey to him no idea of property. Ise would simply' ask the greelest real es - tele landlord in the city hew many camels lie owned. When Richardson met the Tuaregs end wets enterterned by one of their chref.e, tho travellee was told by his host that be wished to make Queen Victoria the finest present 'hut any one could give her, and sO he asked his guest to lake back to her a moiled, which is a camel trained to fleetness and the most costly of Stillman camels, white 11011.11 was sojourning in Tim- buktu there was danger for a lew clays flinI the street. 111011 would attack Ids house. One of hie women servants ad- Vieed him to remove bis "heaven" to a place of safety. This word means live stock, such as cattle or camels, and 13311111 told the woman that lie had only Ws 'horse with Wm. 31 was some tinge before he learned that the servant did not refer particularly to his horse, but to "hit Pt°1;t'Ig.'srei0nnesh. Wma.n Hourst succeed - ea In navigating the Niger from its mouth to Timbuktu, some years ago, a desert dweller desiring to learn 11 he mine of a family of substance asked him 11013' many camels his father owned, and when Foureau crossed the desert with the largest exploring party that ever en- 'ered the Sahara he received from a wealthy native of Asger. co present of a white camel and WaS told that it was the most expensive present that the resi- dents of that region could give to any one, AS a rule, however, the number of ramels in the passemsion of one indivi- dual is not large. The average man considers himself well to do if he OWTIS IWO or three animals; the important chief is really wealthy if he possesses a herd of fifty or sixty, and the richest chief whom Nachtigal met in his seven years wendertngs was said to own about 100 camels. No one will parl with his camels excepting at an exhorbitant price. Foureau found it impoesible to buy them in the 'heart of the desert for less than 250 francs, which tees doubie s are common to thTelirlevaglrItiazilling Agligoeurniad. nli, and there is no property in land. The richest 111011 lives in a tent, and why should he sell camels le acquire the means to build a more commodious and substantial dwelling when he expects to move to some other Mare in a few weeks or mooths? Ile simply acquires all the camels he can got for the mere fuli°fbeuroit asidng lheembi Tobbuys wives with his monels, just as the negro does with ois cattle, and WiVeS come very high in the Sahara, the daughter of the ordinary man being worth as much as foul' cam- els, while the price of a chiels daughter can be commanded only by the wealthy. Some expiorers believe that very fat young women arc most popular in the desert simply because camel's 101111 Is fattening, and if a girl Is fleshy it shows that her father has given her all the camel's milk She can drink. Such a father must have a number of camels, is therefore a wealthy 101101, and it will be a good thing to lnarry into his 'Surl- ily. CLOTH FROM IRON AND STONE. A Wool Made In Electrical Furnace— Fabric From Ohl Ropes. Cloth of gold the fairy books dese,ribe; cMth of iron is a real product, of the mills. Iron cloth is used largely to -day by tailors for malting the collars of coals set fashionably. It is manufac- tured from steel wool by a new process, and has the appearance of havirig been woven from hotsehair. Wool which never saw the back of a sheep is being largely utilized on the Continent for making men's suits. It Is known by the name 01 111114131000 wool and is made in an electric furnace. Pewdered limestone mixed with a cer- tain chemical is thrown Into the fur itece, and after passing under a furious blast of air is tossed out. ns fluffy, white wool, 'After coining from the furnace the woo] is dyed and finally made into lengths of cloth. A pair ot trousers or a coat made from this material can be burned or datnaged by grease and is al flexible 00 cloth made from the sheep's wait. Some time ago an English clothing manufacturer succeeded in making a fabric from old ropes. He obtained ft quantity of old rope and cordage and unegivelled them by a secret process bete a kind of rough cloth. A suit of clothes made from it and 330111 by the manufae- Omer 1311118311 proved strong in the ex- treme and 110)11, 118 color well. 11 10 said that a number of goods sold by some of the best London tailors al low prices' are made of old ropes. NterrInge is often n failure because a man is unable to think ol the right ex- cuse at the right '111110. 8 000 0000000000000000 0000 Consumption is less deadly than it used to be. Certain relief and usually complete recovery will result from the following treatment t. Hope, rest, iresh air, and —Scott° EmaWom ALL DRUGGISTS: 500. AND $1.004 0400400011/040410:44000000400440' ettoose-o-omeosseso-ole estoeses4 1 VOUNC1 IFQLKS 1 GRAMMAR IN RHYME. Three little words you often see Are ,arlieles, a, an, tired the, A noun's the IMMO Of any thing, As eehoel or garden, hoop or Awing. Adjectives tell the kind of noun, As great, small, meetly, white, or 'mutton. Instead of noune the pronouns stand— His head, her Mae, yew' erns my londe Webs tell something 14 be done— To read, count, laugh, eitio, jump, or run, flow things are done, Lim adverbs te11,, As slewly, quieltlY, ill Or well. . Conjunctions (0181 the tettords together,. As men and women, wind or weather. The prepoiition sten& before The nowt, as in or through the door. The interjection shows surprise, As, OM how pretty! Ah, how wisel The whole are called Mine 'parts of speae.11, Which reading, writing, speaking teach. PLAYING INDIANS. "Let us play Indiens," gold Bob to hie little sister Bessie, "All right," ;greed Bessie. She ellways agreed to Rob's plans. Indians must. bo grand, she thought; and she looked at Rob inquiringly. ' "Well, we must have hianloets and Mothers and things," said Rob, eyelids - ling Ms brows in thought "You go 10 the house and get some shawls and eome ribbons, and TB get the feathers from the thicken yard. Make a bow 'n' arrow, too." When Bessie returned with her mo- ther's grey shawl and a red -and -green lablemover, aLso two of her best hair ribbons, the warrior -to -be was lying a Isirtng on his bow. "Ain't that a dandy lx3w?" he tusked, trying the string to etee if it were strong enough. "trot the blankees? 111 take the red one. Squaws closet wear gay things, you know. Any old thing does 1 lot Them. "They have to work." Theis 1, he preceeded to tie -the rod ribbon I around- his waist, draped the cover about his shoulders, letting one corner t trail peacefully on. the greeted. He fixed Bessie in She sams Way. sticking her brown hair full ckf \stile hen fea- therm The feathers would not sty in 011ie short hair, so he 38)1 1110213 in Ms cap. "Nov, frt's away to the forest," said the haughty breve. "Here, square entry nr3 Low 'n' arrow." Betste *bayed, dutifully 'trudging be, 'hind the high-stepping warrior. She 'metal tho bow, also her little werk- leg, which she had thought might bo useful in making up. They stopped under ft red haw tree. 'Mite is our wigwam," said the big Indian. The $11111131', 100k111,5 up into the (roe, exclaimed: "Oh, the th...avs will make such lovely beads! .Let's string some; I have needles and thread. "Mars wornan'e work, You. do it 'while I go forth to kill a buffalo for bur supper," quoth the man of the 'Meese Bessie—the squaw, I mean—gathered her lap full (If the scarlet berries and began to string thole swiftly. It was pecity work, and easy, toe. She soon 'had two 3011g emings of the loveliest loads itnaginable. "Squaws have to get the meats, too," said the Indian maiden. So she filled O piece of hark with red hants. Then, looking about fer eatablee, ebe spied tome wild plums—a dark red in color, . leeched with whtte—and gathered an - 'other clish full of them, A Mile farther 'off was a perelmmon tree, end some of ;these, too, were soon on the table. The table was a reek on Whiclt the heat maid had laid pieces of moss. Not long after, the tilted hunter thnew his bow on the ground and sat down lo his supper ot wild feint and ber- %gee, There was no ineat. "I :sew a buffalo and two doer, but del not get 0 ,s1101 131 1110113," apologized ' l'he brave solemnly, "Witlel berries and cruet am healthier, .nnyway," eoothed the patient little squtity. "Here's your string of beads." KEPT SILENCE is YEARS. Estranged Couple Lived Tooether, But Never Spoke to Each Other. Living in the same house nineteen peers, Mr. and Mrs, George Crandall, of Stanwood, Michigan, during all of that time did not speak to eaeh other) Mr. and Mrs. Crendall are TIONV eeventy-, enrol years old, rule fer forty years they have lived on the same farm. Mrs. Crandall is a splritualist, and be- lieves that she has d51117' communication with the unseen world. 11 was her be- lief in spiritualism thal led to their est trange.ment. Crandall did not believe me did his wife, and after ntimerous [Mgt). ments over the subject with 510, sign of agreement, May decided to separate; but as neither wished to give up the old 1r13111 the house was' divided into Iwo apartments, end both chwhig the Mile - teen years did their °eon cooking end et 1,80e:eels Crenden supplied nem and wood for his wife and for the rest her 00118 supported her. A few yeetes ago IIM couple beentem reconciled, and they now converse oil business mallets, but each retains &pa- nte apartments, Tnr:: DIF11EI3ENCE. "What," queried the Very young mom "e, the differetee between while lies and lenek lies?" "Whitt! lbs" eneemeed MP home grows phikeseSiter, 'are tho kind w,,n tc•II; black l*a 4.10 '105 Idfld 330btar.4