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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1899-5-5, Page 22 TEB .BRUSSELS POST. MAY 5, 1899 .........--„neenser...nee.reenennenenssesesseensanneasenareesSeene, Diamond Cut Diamond—. OR, THE HOOT OF THE ENEMY. CHAPTER XXIV.-Coutinued. ror a tow seconds the mild not at" , 'ter a nmed, only her trembling hands strayed with a soft careseing move- ment over the bent smooth dark head -then at last sbe spoke. "Geoffrey, my dear, dear boy, get up, I entreat you -let me speak to you." Instinctively he obeyed her. Had he not always obeyed her, and rising as ebe bade him, sat down by her side upon tbe garden bench, holding her bands still tightly grasped in his. "I have so much -so very much -to say to you," she began. But he would not let her speak -the floodgates of his heart were operx-the long pent-up pennon would have Inc Way at last, and burst impetuously from his lips. "Yes, and I will listen to you -but not now," he cried, "presently, bye - and -bye, when I have said all I have to say to you -then I will hear you - but now it is I who must speak. Oh, Pnse, MY queen, my darling, I can be i silent no longer, nor hide the love you once bade me keep for ever from your ears. You have sant for me, and. I have come to you. But now that I have coin I will not be sent hopeless away from you again -I cannot live without you any more. Rose, give me your love, your life -yourself I" Then for a few brief moments her ' strength failed her absolutely, and sbe, who was so strong and so brave, became all at once weak, with a wo- man's most utter weakness. The sight of the dear face so long absent, of the eyes that sought her own so eagerly, the sound of the voice she had missed so long, shaken with the pent-up pas- , sion of a love whose devotion of self - repression she so well understood, overcame her in a fashion that she had never reckoned upon. Unrebuked he drew her into his arms, holding her closely against his heart, and sought the lovely lips be bad hungered for so long in vain, with his own -and she yielded, as a woman yields to a man, who, owning all her heart, deems all her passion too as his right -giving herself up blindly and unreservedly to the rapture of that embrace, whilst he, holding her thus, forgot all else in life save her, and murmured as he kiss- ed her lips, her oheek, her throat, - "My own -my love -my wife!" And then she awoke -awoke oat of that mad tranoe of an impossible joy to the awful reality of the unalterable truth, That one word "Wife" went through her with a shock. The mad- ness was over, the brief rapture was at an end, and a cold shudder, icy as death itself, struck through her from` head to foot. She wrenched herself away from his VMS, and sprung to her feet, wring - Ing her bands despairingly together. Ah, what have I done!" she cried, with a low ory of exceeding bitter de- spair. "Wicked, wretched woman that I aml Would to God. I were dead -would to God I were dead!" And she fell forward, prone at his feet, upon the ground, shaken with those great, dry-eyed sobs that tell of a more awful conflict of the soul than whole rivers and fountains of tears. Filled with a terrible presentiment of evil he bent over her, and raised her tenderly, so that she knelt up against his breast, struggling to con- trol the unutterable agony of her heart. My sweet one, what is it? Do you not truet in mei Am I not your love, as you are name?" he murmured. But she shrank away from him, shivering. "Ah, Geoffrey I" she cried, ''how unspeakably I have wronged you, in concealing from you nay unhappy sec. • t" "Your secret!" he repeated slow- ly, whilst a dull miserable despair orept over him; and suddenly there came back to him with a flash of hor- rible recollection the words that his oxide had spoken -"she is a married woman -ask her, and she will tell you. "Your husband Is alive," he said presently, in a strange, far -away voice, that seemed even in his own ears not to belong to him. It was not asked as a question. Be said it as a fact. It did not occur to her to wonder that he knew it. . She knelt back, a little away from him, white as death, with her very lips blanched and form- less -with bent head and eyes fixed in hopeless woe upon binv, and hands clasped tightly together across her breast, like a criminal who awaits the sentence. "Yes, he Is alive,' she answered, No- thing Mere. .A ieird was singing in the syringe - bush; a lietle breeze shivered through the mulberry leaves; a crimson rose, over -blown, fell with a shower of rosy petals and a little soft thud, that could be distinguished in the silence, Oil 'to the dark peat -mould at its feet. Geoffrey heard them all with a hor- •ble distinetness He sat outte, quite still -so still that be might have been turned into a stone. It went through his mind to wonder if death was like this -to marvel that be felt so little pain -that it was so easy to bear, Nothing but a etrange cold tightness amni0 his head, and an odd numbness at his heart. Only that, nothing more. How little it hurt! Then, Out of the awful silence, came her voice, shaken with a wild despair. "For God's sake speak to me I Curse ins, if you will 1 11111 me, if you can I -But, speak 1 Do not look at me like that, Geoffrey I" And, shudneringln, she hid her face in her hands. When I am dying," che thmight, "the awful agony of diose brown eyes will be before mel" But ho answered her nothing-otily a low Mooning sigh broke Brom his white lips. "Oh, for pity'a sake, hear me 1" she cried Widely. "Hear m% at least, be- fore you learn to loathe me in Then like a eorrent, there burst from her the whole of her miserable Story. Of the husband elm had niarried, years age, without kelpie love, perhape, still, With enough nf affeleideet and regard to haVe, 111 tinie-eload he 0.1102en ripened into real love. She Mid of tenet betrayed -of affeetion thrOwe back upoil hereeif-end of the utter worthiese nature of the man in Whore she had glen ha life, and of the togradual Wakening ef her onea Mind the etwaprehension of hie true entire miter. Yet, all; untruthfulness, Un- kind/les.% want of refinement and sym- pathy, infidelity itself; all she would have endured in silences and have striven to hide from the world's eyos, had 11 not been for that last mime - that crowning iniquity, wbicb brand - el him with a felon's name, and made of him an oathst from the oompany of all honorable Men. Then, u the very moment of deteotion and disoov- erY, eeeme the railway accident; from which, although left for dead upon the ground, the wretched man had recov- ered, after a long and dangerous Ill- ness, during which his wife nursed him, at the lonely farm house, near the ecene of the catastrophe, to which his inanimate body had been carried. ;By the tinge those long weeks of watching were at an end, the news of his death had gone abroad; and she found that, with all the world, the man whom he had robbed and cheated also believed him to have been killed. Then came the great temptation of her life; for the sake of his aged fath- er, and to shield bis heartbroken agony, to ward off from him the shame of an exposure which he dreaded worse than death, Rose de Brefour carried out the delusion which had accidently arisen concerning his death. Leon de Brefour was to all intents and pur- poses dead. He came back from the Jaws of the grave altered almost be- yond belief. A frightful wound upon his head had rendered him subject to lapses into partial imbecility, whilst the worst vices of his character, his cunning, his cruelty, end his sensual- ity, seemed but to be accentuated by tbe injury to bis brain. For years this miserable creature had been suc- cessfully hidden by her, first in one place and then in another, never long in the same hiding -place lest attention should be drawn to the singularity of his case, and detection of his identity be the inevitable result. For the same reason her own home had so frequently been changed, be- cause of necessity she had been obliged to remain within reach of hie% and she had therefore altered her dwell- ing -place every time it had been con- sidered desirable to move him. It had been a terrible life -a life oe constant terror, dread and apprehen- sion, of fear and of terrors unspeake able -only death could end it, and Leon de Brefour, like many others who live only to be a punishment to their fellow -creatures, did not see nv dispos- ed to die. .A.11 around, Death mowed away with his relentless sickle -moth - ere, adored by whole families of lov- ing hearts; bread -winners, invaluable to the children whose very existence depended upon their efforts; young teem in the prime of their manhuod; maidens, the hope and desire of par- ents and lovers; only sons and daugh- ters, heirs to position and wealth, whose death made an irreparable blank; hundreds sueh as these, the useful, the beautiful, the good, were stricken down -but Leon de Brefour lived on. This is the mystery of life, and its supremest cruelty. "Why ? Oh, why?" ory out all the great mul- titude of souls iu their agony -but the pitiless Heavens answer not, neither is there any voioe of compassion from, above. Is it only the caprice of a mock- ing fiend who orders these things? Or, as some tell us, is it all fixed by the calm, immutable laws of nature, which were settled and foreordained before the earth's foundations were laid? We do not know, we may nut guess, how it is -the secret is not of this world, and the speculations and surmises only lead, us further and further into a quag- mire of doubt and insecurity. The meth, as we are accustomed to be taught it, is so flimsy and unreal, elands the test of great sorrows so badly, falls to pieces so quickly before, the steady light. ol science and common sense. And yet the "Truth," as we would like to have it, is so oold, and harsh, and repelling; bewilders us so very much, consoles us ao vary little. Alan why did God give us the gift of reason, and then leave us in utter darkness? Why, rather, did he not make us as the brutes that perish, who live, and eat, and are happy, because to -morrow they die? For a moment they were both silent, watobiog till the hair had slowly been dream away round the corner of i the bouse, then their eyee met, . "You see that!'" she said in a low veins "now could I leave hira?" Then with a sudden monition sbe took toth his hands in hers, pressing them nerd against her breast. "Ab, du not mistake me! When you remember thls dor' - this sad day -remember always that I loved you -8111111 love you 10 my deatla, Do not think that. 1 Leax' to trust to yeu-that I doubt the happiness that I shoulol have with you -that, 1 do not believe in you truth and your devo- nun, Ifl were alone, ill bad no one, then I would bran) all other obstaeles, would risk all, and would go with you, Perhaps I am not a good woman to say this, perhaps tit is sinful oe nee to be- lieve that each a union with you wouid be more laity than this union of mine which the Church has blessed, but which every fibre of my nature revolts againsi as horrible and accursed. 11 11 were only than But it is not. You see what God has given me to do in this world, the work He bas set me, lest I should fall and perish on the hard road along wbioh He has compelled me to vvalk? Can 1 be liaise to my trust.? Can 1 desert that poor old man whose only hope ta in me, and who has been given rue to °heath, instead p1 all other love or of happiness? Should 1021 be of all living beings the most base and the most. despiaable? You would think so yourself, would you not?" He heard her in ethnics. Slowly his head dropped and his eyes fell. . He knew now that what he had asked was an impossibility to her -all the max- ims of morality shouted forth from the throats of a thousand preachers could not have told him more surely how hopeless and how mad had been his unthinking prayer - than those few sad, touching words which rose straight from her womanly heart. "Can I desert that poor old man?" It was not in Rose de Brefour to do a bass and panel action, or to be selfish and treacherous. It was her nature to be generous and unselfish and self- saerifielog. She knew it of herself, and slue was incapable of departing from the traditions of her better na- ture and Geoffrey knew it of her. "Jbear love," she said again to him gently, with a yearning tenderness in her eyes and voioe, "promise me that you will never again tempt me in such a fashion. It makes it so doubly hard to me to anfuse-to have to thrust you from me. : And see, I have some- thing more to say to you -something to ask god to do for my sake wbioh will make us for ever safe against the terrible danger that our love must needs be to us. Something that will set 'duty yet more surely and seourely betwixt us and that which our frail Inman nature (mils 'happiness,' This too, my love, you will do, will you not. for my sake? 011, show me how far acbrovmeenti"ere earthly passion is your love f "There is nothing," he answered, boarsely and brokenly, "nothing that you ask of me that I will not do for you; only tell me what it is." "You will marry Angel Halliday?" nend so, why nor wherefore none might say, this man lived on, lived to be a daily three upon Rose de Brefour, lived to shut, her out Lor ever, with unutterable despair, from the paradise of love and joy to width one short glimpse had just been vouchsafed to her. In silence Geoffrey heard her story - listening at first to her with a cold passibility, with a stricken silence. Yet, as he heard of it all, of all her suffering and alt her heroio devotion to the old man for whom she lived, a deep pity aloes in his heart and the icy ileadgatee of bis harsh resentment gave way. When she had ended his eyes sought hers, bis hands drew her near to him lmuse again. "Why should this hor- rible nightmare stand between us?" he said feverishly, with a sudden flush on his face, and a strange glitter in his eyes. "Darling, do not we love aeon other? Leave this miserable life - Ibis sele-secrifiee to a .brute to whom you owe, nothing -trust yourself to me, come with me; let us go away abroad - to America., Australia, where you will -anywhere, so that it may be far enough to begin a new and better lite togetber-do you not believe I can make you happy? Will you then fear to trust, yourself to me?" With a quick, warning gesture she stopped him lifting her hand suddenly, so that the torrent of his wild words was arrested, "Hush!" she whispered, "hush! look there!" He followed the direction of her eyes, Behind them, as they sae under the deep shadoev of the tree, there came obair was being elowly pushed nee and do by Sitcoms along the gravel path in front, of the house - he did not see tre he, hie facto Won bent, the sun caught his white haw till It atone like ellease -there was something pitiful in his bowed hack and clasped bands- some- thing of an appeal to compassion in the helplessness of his ago and Condition. Whole voltmees could not have rebuked bin! More utterly, than did that sad spentacle of sickness and old age. CHAPTER! Ile sprang to his feet with a sort of horror. "Youl-you ask me to do thisI" he cried. IL seemed incredible to him that she who had. just listened to his professions of love, who had confessed her own passion to him unreservedly, should, in the very same breath as it were, tell him to marry another woman. It be- wildered him -it even shocked him. It was what she had expeoted. It Wait perhaps the worst and hardest par: of her punishment, that, in order to fulfil her promise - that promise which would set her husband free, and bring peace to his old father -it was needful that she should say thatwhish might very possibly in some measure lower her in the eyes of her young lover, There was unspeakable bitter - nese in it, yet, to make her self-sacrifice complete, she knew that she must drain that cup of humiliation down to its lain drop. "It is impossible, Rose, that you can me," he cried indignantly. "Of what can you believe me capable! Of what sort at nature oan you imagine ine to be made, that, loving you, I should commit the double crime towards you and towards bliss Halliday/ Such a murriage is out of the question." He spoke angrily, almost incoherent- ly. It was unlike the pure refinement of his Queen, he told himself, to have made sueh a proposition to him, and suddenly, with a flash, something of the truth oame before him. This must be his uncle's doing. "It is Matthew Dane who has com- missioned you to Say thisi" be ex- , claimed. Sho did not/ deny it. She was very calm now. The hurricane of passion and despair bad passed over her and was over, leaving her a little bit cold and ohilled, and oh, so weary! But there was a definite work before her to be done, to which she served herself • with her whole strength. She sat ' down quietly upon the garden bench and waited till his agitation should have quieted. Sho was pale, and there were dark circles around her sad oyes. But the light of a golden sunset slant- ing from the far west caught; the an. buru of her unoovered head, and lit it with a russet glory. Ina had been pacing about in his impatience and wrath, but now suddenly he stopped and looked at her, with tbe red sun- shine of the dying day covering her 'Crete bead to foot with its glow -the sad time, the weary eyes, the delicate hands massed upon her knees, her dross or some dark rich material of a violet hue -all, in some subtle way, reminded him of that first evening in tbe long, book -linea room at Hidden House, when he had found her sitting in the fire -glow, and all his young heart bad pro...tinted itself at her beautiful feet, The memory of that day sobered nod melted biro.. TO be Continued. PERSIA TO CONTEST, IThe Shah of Persia is a profound be- , Bever in the possibility of lila country I once more ansoming the proud position ti; owe held. Tho Ferman!t ought te, Irule the world, in hie mentor, e the power of Great Britain will warn: ere long, end {Imre will he a anntest among (he. nations for the place Per- ein he says, will be in t 1 ton - t al. dirtrlhAVi On the Farm. OILVIDAtteS11~0.16.- -,W41.110 HOW SHALL OATS BB SBEDICD. The best farmers ip localities Where oats are grown for feed and for market believe that ib o ground should bo plowed to a depth of four inehee, seed seam at the rate of 111-2 to 8 bushels per sere, and the field harrowed un- til sure that the grain is covered and the ground is pulverized and well corn - poet The field should not be worked until sufficiently dry. The tempta- tion, is very strong to go on while yet wet, and as a result much damage is done to the mechanical condition of the soil, especially on soils that do not contain muoh vegetable matter and "bake" easily. Son. as early in spring as practi- cable. That is, the sooner this work is out of the way the better, but it Must be remembered that after the oats are on the ground and are sprout- ing or just about to sprout, the germ is very easily killed by cold weather and consequently it is better to wait until all danger of freezing is over. It the soil is very light and open, it may he well to roll the ground and follow the roller will a slant -tooth- ed harrow, winch will form a dust mulch and prevent excessive evapora- tion. This, however, is not often nec- essary. If it. is thought best to sow great; or clover seed with oats, use a very light seeding of oals, say a bushel or 11-2 bushels per acre, and a heavy seeding of grass and clover seed. Maly Peo- ple object to using oats as a nurse crop for grasses and clover, claiming that the heavy leafage of oats will smoth- er out the grass plants. This, how- ever, is nol true if Lha seeding of oats is light and it is the experience of many of our best farmers that during the dry season no method is so ef- fective in securing a catch of grass as seeding with oats. 11 is much bet- ter than seeding with rye or with any other winter grain, as the seed can be harrowed in and the soil cormacted, thus placing the roots of the grass or clover an inch or so below the surface Yihere they will not be killed by spring or early summer denuth. In a field of winter grain the oats are almost on top and a slight drouth any time during the test of the year will cause them to perish - In many locations partioularly in the newer sections of the country anl. to a considerable extent over the mid - die west, it is the sweeties to have the oat crop follow corn. The corn stalks are removed and the oats seed- ed on top of the ground and then plow- ed under with a cultivator or disk harrow or some such shallow -going im- plement. The harrow follows and levels the ground. During wet sea- sons this does very well, but when the weather is dry, ae has been tbe lase frequently during the last ten years, the shallow layer of loose grocuid create. ed by the cultivator is not sufficient to prevent evaporatiort and conse- quently there is a great injury from drouth. Many a farmer has lost his entire crop of oats because of his fail- ure to spend a day or two more on lus seedbed. This covering with a oultivator is not to be recomanend- e . Where pastures are liable to be short, 11 18 desirable to sow small fields of oats near the stock barns, so that' if necessary the crop can be out for soiling or for hay before 11 18 ripe. 11 :Isar at hand it can be easily fed to the farm animals. Mixtures at peas i and oats for soiling anl for hay have been found very satisfactory. The 1 general plan is to sow the peas at the rate of about 1 bushel and 1 peck par acre on unbroken ground, plowing them under to a depth of about four niches. Give the field no further treatment for a week and then saw on oats at the rate of a bushel and a half per acre and harrow until the seed is well covered and the surface thorough- ly mliverined. SURE METHOD OF GETTING STAND OF CLOVER, The reason more farmers do not raise clover is they persist in sowing their clover with grain, usually oats, writes Mr. Timothy Stevens. The result is that the grain so shades the clover that wben it is out the &r- un sunshine kills the clover by drying it up. I have not missed a orop of clover for 30 years. I prepare the ground in the fall and sow the clover seed alone the first thing in spring. I do not, however, harrow the field until the ground is so dry that the, dust will follow the harrow. I have done this for 30 years and have not failed to get two mops a year, wbioh, proved to be more profitable than any grime or grain I could have raised. At the approach of winter a eirne sod is secured which does not wiuterkill, while if it is sowed; with grain it will not toyin a sod, because it is so shaded. 9'he frost then throws it out of the groand. Tbis is what is called winter - killing. By sowing the clover in the above mentioned way, 1 never fail to get two crops the year it is sowed, and the snme number each year thereafter. To make good hay, clover muse be out when the deW is off, After cutting, put it immediately into heaps and in two days fork it over and let the air get to it; then beeper shock asbefore. In two deers mien it again, and again put it into heaps. After two or three days 1118 TAa(117 for the barn. I Mem had it come out in the winter looking as green as it did before being out. 11V1PROVE1MIT On' FRUITS. Thee are two kink of Markets 10 be complied: First, the open world% market, which handles staples; and Wood, the Mega or personal market, Whieb domande quality Maned of quantity. This latter markeb is poorly supplied. its demands are ex - !Laing, but the profits should be Iwo- portionately greater than in the world's market. Fine quality and laandsonee appearance are (moonlit at- tributes to the fruit product tbat would cater to the demands of the spa - alai market. Fruit growers know that a high degree of coloration in the vari- ety may be acoepted as an indieation of its fineness of quality. Fine col- oration and good quality mark a sans - factory adaptation of the individual to its surroundings end suggest good cultural methods. In striving to improve our fruits by what is termed plant -breeding, we should remember that n plant is a col- lo:Lion of individuals with great poten- tial variability, Also that the beet results are usually obtained quickest by working with variable forms, that it is wise to breed ror one thing at a time, that it to necessary to estab- lish in the mind an ideal to work to- ward, and that massing is only a means to an end, and should be supplemented by Vigorous and persistent seleetion. BEST METHODS WITH POTATOES. My plan for the past six years has been to plant on run -out sward land that Is naturally well drained, writes Mr, G. B. Pierce. Plow deeply, work the ground well with a disk harrow and follow with a spring tooth, then furrow out about five or ,ix inches deep and scatter in a good handful of potato fertilizer. Sick on some dirt and drop on one piece of seed and cov- er lightly. Rills may be about 18 or 20 in. apart. Begin to stir the whole surface with a light oultivator or a weeder even as the potatoes begin to break ground. Do this as often as every week, letting the cultivator throw in a little soil each time, then go through with nand hoe, destroying all weeds and filling in a little dirt, but making no higb, round hill. I seleot bast: potatoes for seed, out into pieces of two or three good eyes. I use no barnyard dressing whatever, as 1haste 12°Y taterta°::stabby and to Plant practicable, so that they May make their growth early. Dig for winter use not until into September. By the above method I have nothing but smooth, sound potatoes and also a good yield. SELF-DENIAL. To depreciate ancient customs and usages is a lamentable tendency of the present age, anl our ancestors are, therefore, receiving a large share of in- vectives from reoent generations; The Puritan Sabbath and other hallowed in- stitutions gain a large share of oppro- breum. While, perchance, the some- what severe regime of our oftimes, un- wise predecessors may be subjected to adverse oriticism, the opposite extreme of their latter-day descendants is the more to be deplored. A most important attribute of those who have lived and struggled before, is almost entirely lacking in the gene- ration now on the stage of existence. The virtue of self-denial is certainly conspicuous by its absence, and neith- er sex oan boast superiority in this ro- ved; for young men, no more than young women, can deny themselves that wbioh they oovet. john Jones and Susan Smith, of Smith.ville, are married with great splendor. Although John is only a clerk in Blank and Blanket's store, and Susan is a grooer's daughter, the Pap- ers teem with brilliant reports of the wedding. The bride was arrayed in satin and pearls, and was attended with numerous maids, eta. Poor John must needs borrow the money for an expensive wedding tour, as his lack of made it impossible to save a penny of his wages for this expected occasion. Their united state thus 02C - pensively and wrongfully begun finds little opportunity for the virtue of self-denial. To be Sure their home must be furnished in fine steno, and here the "instalment plan" caters to their extravagant tastes and desires. Married life thus "auspiciously begun," to quote from a report of the wedding, finds them abject slavee-slaves to the merciless master, debt, Self-denial is still harder to practise after the advent of offspring; for, sure- ly, their children must: not suffer in contrast with the children of wealth, thus the poor dears are reared to think that they cannot deny themselves Dev- oted luxuries. Wily marvel over the defalcations of the day and the fact that men prove false in their positions of trust 1 Why wonder at gray-haired men ot thirty, and prennatuxely aged women ? The in- tense strain and struggle to retain a false appearance which the lack of self-denial engendered is the main oause of It all. There is no remedy for this great and growing evil unless ris- ing generations can be taught by ex- ample, as well as precept, to abhor debt, Perchance there is room for one more club or !moiety to be known as the " Self-denial, or Pay-ae-you-go Club," requiring of members heavy penalties for incurring the slightest debt of ob- ligation. Over The door to their club rooms place the appropriate Scriptural text: "Owe no man anything." No great amount of courage would then be required of its members to say! " No, I cannot afford it I" Perchance the dawning of the new century would that find many practising self-denial as bravely as did their virtuous Muses: tors. USERS OF MORPHINE. The Independence 13elge has roade a compilation of "Morphine Heeds," touted among men and warren in differ. ent vocatione of life, Out of 290 eases, among 22 chance of occupations, scion. Vete, artists and journalists were found tenet addicted to the babit, but there Were 69 phyeleiana in the num- ber. Eighteen cases were charged to Workirigerion ,inad 20 egainst pluirteite elate. In ail Occupithoils women ap- peared at as great a disadvantage as Men. GOOD TINES I BRITAIN MAGNIFICENT ENDING OF THE FINANCIAL YEAR. $0,00esea0 ever lite litodMate-RveaS ereaseS or Death $$$ $$ iukti income Tax Are Reported, Two months ago there were grave fears that tae financial year would end gloonally, with a huge dollen:, says a London deepen:le, When the December quarter olosed, for instances there was a net deficieney upon three quarters of the year of three millions oinndtiy,ahalf. The race of the revenue during the succeeding weeks was watched with growing interest. Mon- day the financial year ended magnift- , There is no deficit, the year's rev- enue is nearly a million and three- quarters higher than last year, and Sir Michael Efioks-Beach's eSUMate, which allowed for an increase of only half a million, is exceeded by !meld- erably more than a million. The ao- Ttuhal yearinc. oxne f..igures are as follows: This Increase . : : : : 1441-ja°10a,763i182461,,0118097113 Last year. The income as estimated by Sir NE.eiaciaizaeed? m lHicks-Boeuatelehmansd: as actuaily I Year's income. . . . . .4108,336,198 Estimate, . . . 107,110,000 Excess over estimate.. 1..45167193. These figures give the amounts paid intc the exchequer, and do not include the receipts which go direst to the local taxation accounts. Including the latter makethe total revenue of the United Kingdom for the year £117,857,- 858, as against £116,016,814 last year. ESTIMATE AND RESULT. Comparing the Chancellor of the Ex- chequer's estimate of expenditure with the year's aotual revenue, the result sisutpuarpninvleamyyx.pee..nott.ae.ad...yl_y: s:atisfactory, thus: Original estimate, . . . .4106,955,000 Civil Servioe. :4624824E4g I — 16 Estimated Expenditure. 4708199194,019144 Receipts. . . . . . 108,836,193 But of °purse, the estimates, after all, are only an approximation, and various savings are effected. The re - milt as presented in the Treasury bal- ance sheet for the last quarter, issued 3,49 1a.s971:y3e.ar, is a surplus balance of an This balanoe, it should be pointed out, includes unexpended portions of the surplus revenue of two previous years amounting to 41,861,598. The surplus revenue of 1895-6 was devoted to naval works, and there is still 11708,- 882 of it unexpended. In the same way the surplus revenue of 1896-7 was taken for military works, and of it 41,093,216 remains unappropriated. The year% surplus, therefore, is made up of : Surplus from previous year.41,861,598 This year's surplus . . . 1,535,895 Total . . . . .£8,397,498 So that although Sir Michael Hicks - Beach estimated for a Limit surplus of only 4115,000, it has worked out to a minim and a half. Ie is interesting to note that the growth of the National Revenue con- tinued throughout the entire year, al- though in the final quarter, from eye - tial 088808, it made an enormous rise. Tho gquauxatretielry .net increases were: June September . December . : :4734366811,95821084 Marcia . . . . . . . . 895,688 DEATH DUTIES AND INCOME TAX. The death duties and the inoome tax have been the two great pillars of the year's revenue; together they have brought into the Exchequer an inorease of more than a million sterling; a fact of which Sir William Harcourt may be expected to take joyful notice. The receipts under the principal nee.c1 of revenue arra shown in the following table in contrast with Sir Michael Itioks-Beach's estimates, Budget Actual Estionates Receipts Customs . x21,080,010 n20,850,0e0 Excise. . . . 28,950,000 29,200,000 Death duties. .... 1n670,0e0 11400,000 Stamps, . . . 7,600,000 7,680,000 Land tax 926,000 770000 House duty. . 1,570,000 1.600,000 Income tax. , . , 17,7410000 18000,000 Post -office.. . 1%600,010 12,710,000 Telegraphs, . 3,410,000 8,150,000 These are the comparisons of receipts and estimates; and if we compare the receipts with the revenue of last year the fonts are even more striking in re- gard to the growth of death dunes end excise and income tax, and the falling away of Customs. Sir Michael Becks -Beach' estimated for a tall of 4700,000 in Customs, which have been on the decline since the lest quarter of 1897; the less hee been con- siderably more -it amounts, in feet, to 41150,990, and. as the reduction at the tobacco duty was estimated to be equal to nn130,000, it to obvious that the lessened taxation has not stimu- lated, smokers to a greatly increased consOmption. This fall in Customreceipts is more than baninced by the growth lender tbe head of excise, The Chancellor of the lexciliegner expectea an Increase ot 110e0,000 in mime; he has reeeived en increase 02 41,017000, From Minima and property tax he expected an addi- tional 11480006; the fax has really yielded three-quarters of a million ad- diIiit°snilioLuld be notea in (nineteen/a that this finahcial year loses the benefib of one day on amount ot Good Fridley, BILLIONS IN GOLD. Engineers estimate that Die Ore In sight in tlits South African gain din' inlet Willed the Rend, mulaine about n4,000,000,000, worth «flint precious Ditt unless more rapid minim& of production are employed, it will re- quire tin year!o to mit this gold into tire calation and use, MODERN FIIOLO ARTILLERY. elosoidays 09059510 or 51 11 nn 111111/1("ft and Twenty Made a ellitair, Field artllery bee passed through a cyama fel.° lenvoorleuateicioni niluaLe.1.11p e ofP'Hfiring has become an swotted conclitiou of the existence of the modern field - pima, All military authorities agree, upon the necessity of being able to pro - dues at a given moment terrible el - toots in the &mitten. possible lime. The difficulty in the problem consisted in avoiding a waste of munitions. Upon this subject Lieut.. 20110eL bes published in the Revue d'Areillerie an interesting article widen has been partially inspirec1 by the work of Gen. Lunglois upon field areillery. Up to the end of the sixteenth century little at- tention had been paid to rapid firing. The artillery, moreover, was heavy and clumsy. At the battle ot Gramm; in 1475, aocording to Meyer in his 'fech- nology of Eirearnas," the Meade of Charles the Bold were charged and pointed against the Swiss at the begin- ning of the combat. The firing began in volleys, but the aim was too high, and this caused the loss of the battle because there wee no time to reobarge the pieees. At, that period the aver- age artillery fire was about. THIRTY 1110111 A DAY for each piece. The heating of the pieces also proved to be an obstaele. : Altempteat increasing the rapidity. of artillery fire go batik as far as the seventeenth century, when the Gore inane employed the first breech -loan - bag cannon. More serious results were obtained in the time oil Frederiole when the field artillery was made very much lighter. lip 10 the cod of the eighteenth century, with the re- turn ut the heavy pieoee of arelllery, of Grebeauval, as well as in the wars of the revolution and of the umpire, the maximum rapidity of the fire in battle was from ane to two shots a minute for each piece. Moreover, iu the time of smooth -bore guns, the oannonade wbioto prneeded the betel° W88 never intended. Lo crush the enemy. It covered the deploying, of the troops and presented a chance to gain time without serious loin to the enemy, During the greater por- tion of the uotion the artillery fire was almost continuous, but always ex. tremely slow. At the decisive mom- ent., marked by the employment of shrapnel or grapeshot, tbe artillery, discharges were carried on with extra- ordinary violenee, and, ramified a rapid- ity of 2 1-2 and even 5 slams a minute for cash piece, as, for instance, at Wagram and Friedland, when the bat- teries opened the breach fax the infan- try by their grape and canister fire. With rilied cannon the mitten was rarely decisive at long range. Al an ordinary distance the effect produced was satisfactory, but it was never °rushing. For example, at Sadowa two lines of artillery fought fur five home without either being knocked out. During the France -German war the rapidity of Lire of the French mina reached one shot EL 1111111110 with the 12 -pound pieces and two shots u min- ute with the 3 and 4 pound enemas, and the same ear, shrapnel fire. The rapid- ity of the German breeoh-loadiug guns was vary little superior to that of the Frenoh. Slime 1781 the progress of field utile lery has been considerably inereaaen, In the first advance deItTti 131;,siiiisunhernatittRifriiii}, ndAlialEibrieeW. AS INCRE A S ED . In the second the destructive power of the pi:Weenie was developed by a methodical fragmentation, and in the, third and last stop this same power has been augraented still more by the general use ut the tin fusaxit, which extends by WO to 8,000 zaetres, eon even more, the crushing effeota of the olthat to crush an enemy it is only neeessary to increase the offensive power of artillery fire; and to do that the maximum of rapid- ity is required. "Artillery," says Gen. Langlois, "by its fire ought to be just like an old-time charge at cavaleywitle this diflerence, that is a charge that nothing can stop and winen smashes down everything before it." The meane employed to that end consist in diminishing the recoil, in accelerating the return of the pieee in battery, and in facilitating the poiating, the charm - trig and the firing of the gun. Thanks to the aumbination of these dif- fermi; advantages, the guns recently made show an; increase in rapidity of filTini.l.fieldpiece of 1890 adopted by the German Government is made to fire vs- gulerly five shots a minute; but that is a limited $pooa to avoid want% In reality, the piece eapable of firing double and oven treble that number of shots in a minute. Consequently the average rapidity of rapid-fire field artillery is ten or twelve shots a minute? supposing that the pointing of the piece can bb done with the desired aceurecy. It may an upproximate aim is taken, a rapid- ity of from eighteen to twenty shots a minute eau be easily reached. But it is a good thing to avoid this ex - trema rapidity; Lor, as Soharnhorst said at the beginning the century, "One nIngle shot well aimed is worth several badly aimed or not aimed at all, for it, notpointecl what is the tee ol ?DYAD HEADGEAR The emend ne a Duke consists of' alternate crosses and letters, tis leaves being a representation of the leaves al the parsley plant Tho P,ncoos slitlactesct. )aialased givenearr oat a Marquis consists of a diadem: sur- rounded by flowens and pearls placed alternately. Au Earl, however, hag neither flowers nor loaves surmounting his circlet, but only points elating each with 4 pearl cm the lop, A. Viscount has neither flower! nor pointe bull only tbe plain eirelet adorned with pearls which, regardless a 111181ber, 0118 pieeed on the crown HAMS A Eaton bas only mix pearls on be vide en border, not raised to distingut It hher Orne!toni:10v1aviniseltlobatiarul:ITLactridcleinthedLouitrilebtaiiro:•me111111 e