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