HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1895-5-24, Page 2TEE. BBVSSEL. , r S'A"..
LADY AYLMER
ORAPTER IV,
led. "Oh, very well, very well, never
mind. I oats take a plat aa well ae any.
4 NEw 1Dl'.A. body "
e in hie li When it suite your purpose," Dick's
Lard Aylmer was sitting clop thoughts ram, cis ho watched the handsome,
llrary, smoking a cigarette, and wondering wieired old face.
what t answer Dick would.brimg him, When
be thought proper to come again to give in
hie deoieion,
He was a handsome old man, not eo very
years, B
old -n but aged in wickedness. A.
.
handsome man still, with aquiline Natures,
a flushed face and a goodly crop of white,
curly hair. Your first thought on looking
him im was, "What a °harming old gentle.
.V
man 1" your eeoond, "What a pair of steely
eyes 1" your third, "What a Idephiatophe.
lee! Yes, without the shadow of a doubt,
Lord Aylmer wee a winked man, with a
bad heart filled to the brim, and running
over with all manner of evil...
They say, you know, that women novel-
fete alwaya make their heroine all good,
till they are as insipid as the dummies in a
tailor's window; or else that they go to
the other extreme, and make their villains
such unmitigated villains that it is impost.
ble to find one single ray of virtue where.
with to redeem their ohmmeter from its
nky pall of utter blackness. But let me
tell you that if all the womennoveliote who
write stories in the English language were
to concentrate their efforts upon the task
of trying to depict the villainy of Lord
Aylmer's natural depravity, I am afraid
that in the end they would have to call in
the aid of their masculine confreres to ade.
quately complete the portrait. For the.
noble lord. was all bad, thoroughly bad—
what up in the North conntry they call
"bad, core through." Yet he had a delight-
ful manner when he ohoae, and in early
middle age had made a -genuine love -match
with a beautiful young woman at least
sixteen years younger than himself—a
penniless as .wall asa beautifulyoung
woman, upon whom he had lavished eo
much love and attention that within three
months of his marriage his love had burned
itself out and was as dead as any dead
volcano. A few weeks later, Lord Aylmer
practically separated himself from his wife,
although they continued to share the
same house, and he appeared before the
world as much as posoible as if no breach
had ever been opened between them.
Not by Lord Aylmer's desire, this—oh 1
no, but because her ladyship had never been
eo genuinely in love with him as he had
been with her, and was moreover perfectly
alive to the solid worldly advantages of
being Lord Aylmer's wife, the mistress of
Ayhuer'e Field and of the handsome town
house in Beigrave square.
Of course, I know that there are °th-
ere," she said in reply to a dear friend, who
thought it her duty to open this young
wife'a eyes, " and, of course, I know that
Aylmer wants to get rid of me; but Idon't
mean to be got rid of, and I put up with
the others because I think doing so the
least of two evils. There is only one Lady
Aylmer, and she is 8 strong and healthy
young woman, who means to be Lady Ayl-
mer for at least fifty years longer. Yes, I
know, my dear, all that you feel about it
I quite appreciate your feeling toward me.
Oh, yes 1 it was your duty to tell me, but I
am not going to cut myself out of all that
makers lite worth living, just to oblige a
husband who has got tired of me in three
months."
To this decision Lady Alymer had from
thautime forward kept most rigidly. As
far ae her husband was concerned, nothing
seemed to annoy her, andwhenever she
wished to do eo and condescended to try to
get her own way by means of a little flat-
tery, she generally succeeded; and now that
Lord. Aylmer had got into the "sixties," she
was simply a stately, even.tempered, iron -
willed and exoeedingly healthy woman, who
looked as if she meant to live to be ninety.
It was partly on the eubjeot of his wife's
extreme healthiness that Lord .Aylmer was
t hinking that morning as he smoked hie And then she has always seen
Olive.
cigarette and tried to assure himself that
the twinges in his left foot were merely a oorrv for nue years she has been 0000
sign ofa. coming shower and nothing in the lately her own mistress, and has travelled
than nc got up from his chair, " If you
don't want me any longer, sir, I shall go
and pay my respects to the lady, Beattie
bye, 1 hope you are leao anxious about her
Than yon were a short time ago,'
Lord Alymer jumped up In a fury and
stamped hie gouty loot hard upon the
floor. " Demme, be °nail, "that woman
is like an indian-rubber ball, and as hard
as nails into the bergain,"
"Then she is better," said Dick, with
an air of profound and auxioue interest,
"Better 1" Demme," the old savage
oried,"she's outrageoualy well,sir. Demme,
her healthiness ie positively uggresive
"But that moot be a great relief to your
mind, air," said Diok with perfect gravity.
" Relief 1" the other echoed, then Beam-
ed to recollect himself a little. ' Alt I
yee, yes, of course—to be sure. Well, go
and see her. I dare say you will Sod her
in the boudoir."
Diok fait himself diemitaed with a wave
of the old lord's hand, and being never
very anxious to remain in his presence, he
betook himself away, and went to find her
ladyship. But Lady Alymer was not in
the house—had, on Net, been gone eoma
time before he reached it; eo Diok jumped
into a cab and went back to Palace Man.
eons be Dorothy, who met him with a new
idea,
"Diok, darling,"the said, "I know that
you are worrying about me, and what I
shall do when you are gone and I have
thought of something."
"Yee. Have you thought that, after all
it would be safe for you to go right out
and risk everything?"
"No, because you do not' go till Septem-
ber, and by then I shall have got very near
to the time.. No, it ie not that at all ; but
you will have leave until you sail, won't
you?" ,,
Yes.
"Then might we not to go sea for a
month. I am pining for a breech of sea air,
and it will be good for you, too."
"That is easy enough. Where shall we
go ? Tenby-or would you rather be nearer
to Graveleigh."
"We could not go to any of tha places
near Graveleigh,Dlck-I should be meeting
people there."
Yea ; but we might go to Overstrand
or Deemer, or go down to one of the little
quiet places near Ramagate. Why, if you
like, we might even go to Ramsgate or
Margate itself."
"I don't in the least care where 1" Dor-
othy replied. But what 1 wanted to say
le this—you remember my cousin, Esther
Brand ?"
I've heard you speak of her."
"Well, when you are gone, would you let,
me write to her and ask her to come and
stay with me till I am ready to come after
you? She is young and kind, and T am
very fond of her, and altogether it would
be very different for me than if I had no-
body except Barbara"
"My dearest, you shall do exactly as you
think Use about that," Dick said, without
hesitation. "It is a good idea, and if she
ie nice and won't worry you about being
married in thio wee --
"She won't know, dear," Dorothy cried,
"I shall ahow her my marriage.lines, and
say that you are gone, and that I am going
to join you as soon ae 1 can."
'She will be sure to ask my regiment."
"Not at all. Besides, you are going out
to an appointment, are you not?
"Yes, true. Well, then, do aa you
think beet aboutit," he said. "Of course,
I shall be a great deal easier in my mind,
and then she willbe able to seeyouoff,and'
all that. Oh, yes, it will be a very good
thing in every way.''
Dorothy clapped her hands together and
laughed quite joyously. "Oh, Lick, dear,"
ehe cried, "1'm so glad you don't mind—I
feel quite brave about being left now. 1 do
wish, though, that you could see Esther.
She le so tall and. strong, very handsome,
smooth, dark hair and great dark eyes—
quite a girl who ought to be called Esther
-world to do with gout at all. And just as a
worse twinge than usual made him wince
and shiver, the door opened gently and a
mao,eervantmade his appearance.
about everywhere.
"Won'tshe think it odd that you have
never written to her all this time?"
"1 don't think so. leather is not a girl b
• "Mr. Aylmer is here, my lord," he said, who thanks you for lettere unleae you have
"Will your lordship see him
"Certainly, of course," exclaimed his
lordship. "Show hint here at once."'
The man retired, aol in a minute or two said. tendert then cried with an uncon-
trollable with Dick, who said 'Good- y,
-morning" to hie uncle with an air of cheer• trollable buret of anguish. " Oh; my love
ful civility, my love, you don't know—you will never.
know what it will cast me to go away and
leave you juet now, when you will want,
me moat of all."
" Never mind, Dick," she said, bravely,
" I am not afraid.
Looking at her, he saw that she spoke
the truth and only the truth—har eyes
met his, clear and true, and the smile
which payed about her sweet mouth was
001 marred by any expression of the agony
which she had suffered during the few
previous days. A week ago she had been
more Dick's sweetheart than hia wife ; now
she was not only his wife, but had also in
her eyes the proud light of motherhood—
" Filled
otherhood"Filled was her soul with love, and the
dawn of an opening heaven,"
something special to say."
Dick put his arm round his little wife's
waist. ' And you have something very,
very apeoiel to tell her, haven't you ?" he
"Oh, Berbera!" Dorothy oricd, excitedly,
In a inamout ellea
had torn it open and
was reading it aloud to Barbara, "Oh, it
is from Russia, Feely Wee Brand being.
kn Russia, Barbara, and aha Paye
"My Very Dear Little Dorothy ;---Soyas
are Married ! I pan hardly believe it—in.
deed, store having your letter this morning,
T have been flaying to myself over and over
again, ''Dorothy Strode is married—little
Dorothy hag got married,' andetitl 1 do not
!n the )east realize it. So you are very
happy. of oouge, and you aro going to have
a baby—that is ,almoat an 'of course' ale°
And your husband has got a good ap-
pointment in India which he does not dere
ID ref use, That looks like bread-and'oheese
and kisses, my dear little uonain. However,
not that money makes any difference to
one's happiness, and so long as you love
him and he loves you nothing else matters,
Money leant of all. But why, my dear, have
you waited oolong before you told me of
your new ties ? I have wondered so often.
where yon were and what had become of
you, and about four months apo I wrote tp
the old house and had your letter retuned
by a horrid young man, David Stevenson,
whom I dieliked'always beyond measure,
He informed me that you had left immedi-
ately after dear auntie's death and that he
did not know your present address. 1 felt
a little anxious about you, but eminently
relieved to'find that you were evidently
not going to marry that detectable young
man, who is, I have no noubt, all that ie
good and estimable and affluent, but whom,
au I acid, I have never liked.
" Well, my dear child, you must let me
be godmother to the baby when it comes,
that I inay spend ae much money over its
coral and belle as I should have done over a
wedding gift to you. As for coming to you
--my darling ohild, of course I shall come
straight back, and helmBarbara to make
up to you for the temprary lose of your
spouse. I gather from your letter that he
is all that is good and kind and brave, to
say nothing of being handsome and loving
and true --you lucky little girl !
"Expect me when you nee me, dear,
whioh will be as soon as 1 can possibly get
myself to London. If I were on the other
side of the frontier, 1 could pretty nearly
fix both day and time. As it 18, 1 can only
say thatI will lose no time in being with
you, and I will etiok to you till I nee you
safe on board the P. and 0. steamer,
"My love to. Barbara—bow she and I
will yarn together over the old place and
the old days !--and much lour. to you, dear
little woman, , From your always affeotion-
ate
"ESTHER."
"H'gh !'" grunted the old lord, "morning.
Well ?"
"Well, sir," said Diok, " I have thought
the matter over, and although I have not
and never have had any wish to go to India,
I have deoided that it will be beet for me to
accept the appointment you were good
enough to get for me.
"Oh I—er, I'm glad you've come to your
'lenses at loot,' said the old lord a shade
more graciously. "Well, you had better
go and see Barry Boynton about it—that
will be the best. And then you'll have to
get your affairs put in order, make your
will and all that,"
"I have made my will," said Diok,
promptly, "although it's .true I haven't
very much to make it. for."
"Ali 1 that's good—those things ought CHAPTER V.
always to be done before they are wanted.
By the bye, Dick, are you hard up; or any- 1.0030.thing of that kind?" Do. you want any There le no need for me to tell of the
?" month which Diok and hia wife passed
together at a secluded little watering place
on. the Norfolk tenet, nor of the scramble'
which Diok had at the last to get ready
for the appointed day of sailing for the
money
"No, sir,' thanks. I could do with a
hundred or two, of course—who couldn't?
But 1 am not in debt or anything of that
sort:"
Thie letter in itself was enough to put
Dorothy into the wildest and gayest of
spirits, and Barbara was almost as much
delighted; for, truth to tell, the old ser.
vans had looked forward with no little dis-
may to the prospect, of eupporting;her loved
young n.ietreee through her hour of lone-
liness and trial, and was therefore greatly
relieved to find that the responsibility of
the situation would fall upon the strong
and capable shoulders of Mies Esther Brand
instead of lying upon her own weaker ones.
"It is eo good and sweet and dear of
Esther," Dorothyrepeated over and over
again. "Just like her to throw everything
else aside on the chance of being able to
do a good turn to some one in need Now,
I dant feel half so nervous es I did."
The .old lord oareeeed hie white mus- shining East. It is enough to say that
tache and looked at his heir with a sort of after an agonized parting he tore himself
comical wonder. "'Pommy soul 1" be re- away, and Dorothy found herself left alone
in the pretty flat, face to lace with the
sorest trial of her life.
A week before she had written to her
cousin, Esther Brand, but the heel had no
reply. That had not surprised her mitch,
for Eother was a restless soul, never eo
happy as when moving about from place to
place. Apart from that, London is scarcely
the place to look for rich and idle people in
September, and Dorothy lied adetreaaed her
letter to her cousin's bankers, knowing that
it would be the surest and probably the
quickest way of finding her. But when Dick
was gone, Dorothy began to get very anx-
ious far a letter from Father, to watch for
the post, and to wonder impatiently what
Esther could possibly have done with her-
ee]f and whether she had got her letter or
not. But for several deye there was atilt
eilenee, and at last, Mat when Dorothy wan
beginning to despair, it came.
"Here is your letter,Misa Dorothy,'oried
Berbera, hurryingint° the room with it.
marked, "1. can't, tell how yon do it.'
"Eh?" said Dick, not understanding,
,end in fact not interested in hia unoles
tho l� gh�to,
' Well, how do you do it? Expeneive
regiment --fiat in Palade Mansions-Rivi-
era' and all the rasa"
Diok shrugged his 'shoulders. "Well,
sir, I dpn'towe a penny in the world, I give
you my word,"
"Ah I Mrs, Harris- moat be a young
lady of vary moderate deefres," said Lord
Aylmer, lighting another cigarette. "Have
*Mile ?"
"No, thank you, sir," returned Diok.
"And what will become of Mrs. Harris
w hen you are gone to India, eh?" the old
man caked with a great all of interest.
"Wali, eir, said Dick, "1 always make' it
a rule never to talk abont my friends'
private atl'aire, even when I happen to
know them."
'You won s telt Me," /Med.Ayioter chuok.
"Nor I," echoed Barbara speaking out of
har very heart ; then she added, with a sig-
nificant smile : "Mise Esther never could
abide David Stevenson—neither could I."
Dorothy could not help laughing. "Ah 1
I think you were all just a little hard on
David. I didn't want to be Mrs. !)avid, it
is true. But apart from that, 1 don't see
that there was so much amiss with him."
"H'ni 1" remarked' Barbara, with another
sniff, "perhaps not. But for all that, Mies
Dorothy-Ma'am,I should say—David Ste.
venson was a mean boy, and. I never could
abide meanness in mac, woman or child."
"He was most, generous to 'said
Dorothy, with a sigh.
"Yea, to serve his own ends," said Bar-
bara, sharply. "You may take such gene.
roeity as that for me. Not that I was
speaking of that, ma'am, for I wasn't, but
of the time when David wasa boy -a hor-
rid boy, who thought nothing of stealing
the beet apples ane letting another take
the blame of it."
"Oh, Barbara 1 Barbara !" cried Dorothy,
"you've got hold of a wrong story. Why,
1 know that once when David azole some
of Auntie's apples, and young Tom Merri-
man got the blame, David came and told.
Auntie himself."
" Yee ; and for why ?" demanded Bar-
bara, with uncompromising sternness. "Be.
cause 1 happened to have got the young
limb at it and collared him before he could
get away. ' You are stealing Miss Dims.
dale's apples, David Stevenson, I said,
laying hold of him audden-like ; '. and you
stole them other apples that Tom Merri-
man has been sacked for.' 'And what's
that to you, you old sneak ?' he asked.
' Sneak or no sneak,' said I, ' you'll turn
out your pockets to me, my fine gentleman•
and you'll go straight up to: the houee and
you'll tell Mies Ihmsdele that it was you
stole the apples last week, and then you'll
go and ask Tom Merriman's pardon' for
having let him lie under your fault.' ' That
I'shan't,' say he. ' Then,' aoya I. ' I just
walks you right off to Id Ise Dimedale, and
she'll see you with your pockets fall, red-
handed as you are. No,' says I, ' it's no
use to struggle, I've got you sate by the
arms, and so Y mean to keep you,, whether
you like it or not. And if once Mies Dime -
dale knows the truth, do you know what
she'll do. David Stevenson ?' says I. 'No,'
says he sulkily. ' What?' 'She'll never
atop to thinly that you're. David Stevenson,
of liolyrod,' I says, ' but she'll just hand
you over tothe constable at once, and I
don't think, my young gentleman; I adds,
' that Tom Merriman havinggot the enol
to fill your ineide with ill-gotten goods
I'll help you with the bench in the very
least,'
" Well, eo I suppose ho gave in," said
Dorothy, who was deeply Interested.
"\Veil, of course he had to," returned
Barbara, with practical plainness ; "hut,
ail the same, he never forgave me for having
been the one to get the better of him, and
never, forgot it, not 'to the very last day
we were at the Hall. Ah 1 Mise Dhrothy,
dariing,if you had thought proper tenantry
David Steveneop, von would have had to
do without me. He never would have had
mo about him, and I wouldn't have taken
service under his' roof -no, not to save mea
aelf from ending my days in the work.
house."
"Barbara, Barbara 1" cried Dorothy,
chidingly, "not forme?
"Well if you had put it in that way,
Mist Dorothy, you might have got over
m," the old woman answered.
But stay 1 I think I ought to, nay here
that, although I have called her old in
many parte of this story, Barbera wan not,
and could not reasonably be called an 011
woman in the common acceptation of the
word. She was a year or ao over fifty, and
a very strong, halo woman at that, and at
Dela time to Dorothy she was ae a very rook
and tower of strength.
Well, by virtue of tholettor from leather
Brand and in til° joy of expectation at. her
coming, Dorothy passed that they With
quite a light heart, and even Dat down to
the )title Plano and eaug one er two of the
gouge that Diok liked beat. And then aha
went to bed and elope, leaving the door
opeu between her room and Barbara's for
company and she dreamed, 49 site always
did, about Diok.
Nor was ie a pleasant dream. She saw
Dick on hoard of a large steamer, wearing
white clothes and a sailor hat, looking very
bronzed and happy. Ho was leaning over
the 'side'of the ship, with a cigarette In hie
mouth, just ae she had Been hiinmany a
time, and by his fide there stolid a beauti-
ful lady—uot a girl like Dorothy heroelf,
but a beautiful woman of about thirty years
old, much a woman ue Dorothy fancied her
old friend at home, Lady Jane Stuart,
might have been at that age, They seemed
to' be talking earnestly together, and after
a time—such a long time it'seemed in her
dream—Diok took one of the lady's erode
and rafted it to hie lips; then she laughed
and paid something, and Digit caught, her to
him add kissed her on the lips. Immediate-
ly ;afterward, while Dorothy, with frozen.
lips, was gazing at them, Dick turned his
head and looked her full in the eyes with
the glance of ao utter stranger.
Won a shriek, Dorothy awoke,- the .sun
was streaming in at the sides of the window
blinde,aod Barbara was just eomingthrough
the doorway with a little tray hearing
Dorothy's early cup of tea.
"Did I aoream, Barbara ?" Dorothy gasp-
ed,
"A bit of eery. What ailed you,ma'am?"
Barbara %eked,
'Oh! I was so frightened—I had such a
horriddream about the master. I thought",—
But Dorothy
hought'--
IlutDorothy did not complete the sen-
tence,for Berbera put out her hand with a
horrified look. "Nay, now, Mies Dorothy,
don't tell it. Whatever you do, don't tell
me."
• "But why?" cried Dorothy open-eyed.
"You should never tell a dream before
noon, Mise Dorothy," returned Barbara,
portontously.
Ohl" exclaimed Dorothy, " isn't' it
lucky?" She knew that Barbara was a great
believer in luck, and signs and omens,
"It's fatal, answered Barbara, solemnly,
whereat Dorothy burst out laughing and the
worst feelings of dread with which she had
awakened passed away.
"I think," the said, afterbreakfaet,when
Barbara was clearing the table,." that I
shall put on my hat and go up to the High
Street; I cannot finish this till I get some
more lace ;". then she held it up and showed
it off to Barbara. "Isn't it sweet?" she ex.
claimed, with intense satisfaction.
"It's lovely," returned Barbara, who was
overjoyed at the prospect of a baby. "Then
do yon wish me to go with you, ma'am, or
will you go alone?'
"Do you want to go?" Dorothy asked.
"Well, ma'am, to be honest, I don't. I
want to turn the room out for Ibise Esther.
You see, she may come nearly as fact ae her
letter, and I shoulu't like to put her into a
dirty room."
"It can't be dirty, Barbara," cried Dom -
thy, laughing, " because nobody has ever
slept in it."
Well, ma'am," Barbara retorted. " 1
can't say that I know a dirtier person than
Mr. Nobody—on the whole."
Dorothy laughed. "Well, then you evi-
dently have a lotto do, and I would just as
soon go alone. So I will go soon, before I
get tired.or the day gets hob;" for,although
September was half over, the weather met
then was moat sultry and trying to those
not in the beet of health.
She was soon ready, and went into the
oozy kitchen to ask Barbara is there was
anything that she wanted, but she did not
happen to want anything at a11.
"Do I look all right?" Dorothy asked,
turning herself about.
"Yee, you look very sweet this morning,
Mies Dorothy," said Barbara. "I wish the
master could see you this minute."
"So do I," echoed Dorothy, promptly.
"Well, he will see' me soonenough, coon
enough. Good-by,Barbara.
(TO BB CONTINUED.)
YOUNG ENGLISHMAN MURDERED.
A Financier and Fdltor Charged with
the Crime.
Not for many a day has Guthrie, Okla.,
enjoyed such a sensation as when she awoke
the other morning and found° two of her
prominent citizens and business men in jail
on a charge of murder. When the body of
Frank Ledgers, a young Englishman, was
taken from the Cottonwood River last
September,; and the Coroner's jury could
not tell after a thorough investigation what
produced death, or who the guilty parties
probably were, it seemed that his taking off
was destined to remain a mystery. Two
months ago came a Pinkerton detective,
sent by the British Government, on the:
appeal of the murdered man's parents and
sweetheart in Birmingham, England. Aa a
result of hie work came the arrest ten days
ago of Frank Thorpe, a negro porter, and
three days ago William Knowles, ex -night
policeman, both as accessories to the inurtt-
'
Still the detective followed up Ma clews.
.At midnight, he secured a confession of
some startling Note from a woman of the
town, and at 3 o'clock, with the Sheritl,
went to the resident of W. H. Thorne and
0. C. Seeley and took then from bed and to
jail, charged with the murder of Ledgers.
Thorne is Peeident and general manager
of the Guarantee Investment and Loan
Company, and Seeley a prominent real es.
tate man and publisher of Oklahoma 11.
lnetrated, Thorne is an Englishman, and
the murdered man: was related by marriage
to hie wife, and boarded at his house at the
time of the murder. The detectives will importance to the health and profitable
not give out the particulars, and the management of domestic animals, and the
details of evidence so far ceh not be told
with certamty. ,They give, however, an tuberoulosie scare, if it does nothing else
AGRICULTURAL,
Windbreaks and ll elnHOW 10 Make.
Alinast every country home ueede a
windbreak of trees, the oxoeptime being
where Mlle °hook the air eurreitte, or
natural grove win be utilized for the put,
poem In regions of low temperature, plane
it on the cold side of the houee. In_ mild
latitudes place it so as to ehield the prem..
1000 from the most prevalent and danger.
cue winds, Do not set the trees too °loco
00 the dwelling, or the quarters of the
live stock. If lens than 100 to 300 ft,
distant, the air is elms and damp with poor
ventilation, which tendo to develop die.
ease. On bhie account this minimum number
which will afford protection is better than
a large grove. The apace between the
trees and the buildings can be utilized for
a lawn, garden, or for email fruits, avoiding
thick sebting. Admit plenty of sunlight.
It 10 a vitalizer ot most animal end veg°.
table lite. Better have no windbreak than
one too closely set. If you have no tree
stetter, start one this spring. The form,
Wee and distance from buildings must be
governed by oiroumetanoea. A single row
of thickly growing evergreens—white pine,
Norway'spruce, or red cedar -15 ft. apart
will suffice. Limbs will then grow close
Po the ground, while if more than one row
isused, the trees will prune themselves,
as in a forest, and in time destroy the
efficiency of the windbreak. Deciduous
trees of, almost any quick growing, hardy
variety will answer, but require more land,
a grove 50 to 100 ft. wide being necessary.
Mix nut•bearing trees and those vain-
..cal
aiiinitainailiNa
▪ \mai
sof '
VARIOUS FORDS of WINDBIL:.ABS.
(Fig. 1, crescent shape. Fig. 2, right
angle. Fig. 3, obtuse angle. Fig. 4, acute
angle. Fig. 5, straight Zine. The letter It
iadicatee location of houee, and b location
of barn.)
MAY 24, 1.895,'
siding and tarred pater, nod lined iaalde
with slilplap, thus rnahtitg a four -loch eq
epaeo.botweee• About a dozen of these
spaces between the studding are hoed for
Ventilation flues, They are fitted at the
bottom on the inside with to ventilator
register opening into tho (lues and from the,
upper plates these llueo are extended by
means of boarding up on the under aide of
the retort' until they are all joined in the
trianpultr ventilator ltox shown at. the
puttee plates; these boxes oommuniceto
with the eapohts by means of wider duote
between the rafters. The cupolae have
sleeted sides opened and oloeed by
means of a oord with pulley attachment
conducted to the lower fitter. The registers
also answer the purpose of enabling any
number of the flues to be closed when
desired. It is found that some of these flues
carry upward and some downward 001000ne
at different time's, thus maintaining a eon -
:thee circulation of aft. The reggletere being
neer the floor take the cold and impure air
out of the building from the right place,
inotead of permitting the warmer air to
escape as in the cage where there are veil.
ing exits. The hay chutes are also joined
in this system of ventilation and may be
opened or closed at will, In severe weather,
it become',neceeeary to close a part of-
the
bthe openings, thougn the temperature of
the barn rarely gets below 40 degrees even
in times of extreme oold.
This system provides an ample oupply of
pure air, is not expensive, and may be ap-
plied in any well oonatruoted barn. A.
cement floor and cemented Bawer pipe
drainage, with bell trap openings,ives
this barn substantially perfect sanitary.
conditions. The cement floor gives good
satisfaction without plank•oovering for all
stook, except horeee. In the dairy cow
section we have five different cow ties in
use, using cement flooring with all of
them.
able for timber with °there at planting
time. The . accompanying illustrations
(Figs 1 to 5) show some of the most
desirable forms for the windbreak, which
will furnish sufficient variety. If the land
is on the east or south side of the road, the
buildings must be placed a considerable
distance from the highway, unless space
for planting the trees can be obtained from
the farmjust across the road. A long
rope attached to a etakeie helpful in laying
out the crescent. If rapid growth ie
expected, cultivate the Boil deeply and
thoroughly enrich it before planting the.
small treee or seed. Plant in rows and
cultivate muoli as you would corn. Protect;
from injury by live stock and teams by
proper fencing. Any sensible man or
woman, by hie or her own labor, can soon
produce a good windbreak without any
outlay unless it be for the young trees or
seeds. Within a few years it will add
several times its coat to the selling value
of the farm, besides being a comfort and
a satisfaction.
Clumps of deciduous trees and evergreens
can often.' 00 so located ae to afford
shelter for stook, protect some crop,
furnish fuel, and lumber, beautify the
landscape, and: utilize rough laud.
Dairy Barn Ventilation.
While it is safe to say that there is a
great deal of needless and unwarranted
alarm concerning tuberculosis in dairy
stock, it is not improbable that inefficient
ventilation of farm barna is responsible for
a large part of the disease that does exist.
It is a matter of common obeervation that
the herds most seriously affected have
elmoet invariably been subjected to close
confinement fn unsuitable quarters. Bulletin
No 7 of the U.S, Bureau of Animal Indus-
try on investigations concerning bovine
tuberculosis says :
"Fully nin•tenthe of all diseased animals
have been infected by inhaling the tubercle
baaillf cried and suspended in the air."
Farm buildings, ae a rule, are inadequately
lighted and ventilated. Attention to these
features in barn construction is of vita
assurance that they have a oonolueive chain
of evidence that will implicate all the four
parties so far arrested. There are 'still
other persons who pre euspioioned aE being
atleastaccessories after the facts, and
more armee will follow.' The theory of the
murder now is that he woe chloroformed
at Mrs. Jack:son's on South Seoondeteect,
Where the negro, - Thorpe, was porter, and
afterwards thrown into the river.
When the body was found a watch and
considerable looms change was found In
the pooleete, which seemed to allay the
euepicion of robbery, but severalthoueend
dollars young Ledgere had brought from
England were never found,
Not Open to an Engagement.
Miotreeo (a widow)—Well, Johnson, I'm
Berry you are going to leave its, but you're
very fortunate in (raving thin money left
you. (Pleasantly) I suppose you'll be
looking out for a wife, now 1
;Teheran (the butler)—Well, really,
ma'am, I feel very much honored by what
you propene, hitt I'm engaged to a young
Woman already:
than to direct attention to the importune
of thin eubjebt, will not have been without
some good. It is estimated that cattle and
berme required fano thirteen to fourteen
pounds of oxygen per 1,000 posnds daily,
live weight, To properly furnish thio
requires about 2,000 cubic feet of pure air,
The ordinary methode of stabling do not
give cows more than from 300 to 500 cubits
feet of breathing room to the barn. Unless
some adequate system of ventilation is
provided, one of MO things is inevitable—
outside air mut dome in through poorly.
constructed walks and opening, of the build-
ing, in which male it will be impossible to
maintain a suitable temperature in Winter,
or the cows must inhale the same air many
timers. .Air that has been Mee expelled from
the lunge is unfit for the maintenance of
animal life of any kind until a fresh supply
of oxygen halt been introduced. The greet
detriment of confining stook in poorly -von•
tilated buildings is booming plainly
apparent. The baro shouldbe a free()
structure 40x70 feet, two and a hall stories
high, and entirely above, ground. The
side walls Oto of 2x4'0 upright twenty-four
leashes 'ca Dente° severed outside with
OPIUM FIENDS OF INDIAt
NOT HALF AS BLACK AS THEY HAVE.
BEEN PAINTED.
The cot llnlleeIOU'a Report Will Prove
Sail heading to Those Fond of Dilating
Upon the Awful Ravages of the Drug -
411,11 'insets of Opium Have Been Great-
ly Exaggerated.
The report of the Royal commission on
the use of opium, presented to the British.
Parliament last week, will much astonish
many people, but it must be accepted Bathe
decisive verdict of truth and science upon,
this vexed eubjeot. The enquiry was eon-
ducted on a very great scale and the dee-
sten was practically unanimous. Over 72d
witnesses were examined, including 152
called at the desire of the anti -Opium
aoetety. Every carewee taken to obtain
representative testimony and the commie -
Mon record their conviction that the evi-
dence formetrustworthy ground for "the -
conclusion's reached. Upon this crucial
ieeue, whether the use of opium, as habi-
tually practiced in India, is or is not in-
jurious, the commissioners relied to a great
degree on the statements of 161 medical
witnesses. The evidence of the dootore
in the -service of the Aovernmeut was
practically unanimous. It is corroborated
by other medical men in private practice
and by some medical miaeionaries. The
medical witnesses who advocated prohibi-
tion were few; all of them were more
opposed to the use of alcohol than to that
of opium. The general effect of
Tire 100I010 TESTIMONY
e declared in the report to be that " the
temperate use of opium in India should be
viewed in the came light ae the temperate
nee of alcohol to England. Opium is harm-
ful, harmless or even beneficial, according
to the measure and discretion with which
it ie used."
That is the judgment of science upon
the actual consequences of ole opium habit.
Thenativee of Indin, on thewhole, agree with
the doctors, but they attach greater value
to the drug than acience directly warrants.
It is universally allowed that the excessive
consumption of opium is an evil, though an
evil of which the effects have been grossly .
exaggerated. 'Opium is largely taken as a.
stimulant by those peat middle age. they
use it, in the striking phraeeof one of the
wl000e0esa, as aprop to a falling houee. In
theopinion of the greatmajority the native.
medical practitioners and representatives of
large influential °laeees, this employment
of the drug is attended by beneficial
results. Opium eaters of fifteen to twenty
years' mending appeared before the con.'
mission. They believed the habit had done
them good._'
Their appearance and vigor
satiated the commissioners at all events
that it had done them
,[O rknCEtt1BLn Ir-1RM....
Opium is oleo used as an occasional stimu-
lant in physical emergencies. It has
been issued by medical advice to troops
engaged in fighting and road mokingr
among the 'maintains of Sikkim. 1t fa
taken occasionally by camel drivers who
work in the extreme of heat and cold that
prevail in the Rajuptana deserts. Many con.
samara in the Punjab uoo the drug in the
winter menthe only. Another striking fact
about, the opium habit is that it prevails
among some ot the most manly, hard
working, thrifty races of. India. The
splendid Sikh soldiers and .peasants'
the
active Marward traders and Rajputs are
among the opium ea tars. Opium is con-
sumed in the native army and the witness-
es say does' no , perceptible harm and is
often beneficial., It ie used among many
of the natives in the public serulue and in
the Berried of railroad companies, plalitere
and Weill °wore. The evidence of employ-
ers i0 all to the same effect. Dismissals
for intemperance in' the vile of opium are
practically unknown, Opium, Sir Wm.
Roberts observe,, does not appear, 00 begat
anyapeeiflo disease. Opium eatere bear
surgical, operations' as well as noo-oonsunt-.
ere,.and the manager of a large Insurance
company said that after twenty years'
experience hie company charged no extra
premium on the lives of moderate Opium
eaters.
David's Battlefield.
M. Dieulafoy, the explorer of Persia, hag
carefully examined the Valley of liephaim,
mutt" of Jerusalem, whore David °ruched
the Philietinee, He Hada that the Bible
account of the battle is aaourate, and that
David's tactic's show the highest military
capacity, and were 1110 those of Frederick
the Great at 1Vlollwltz and Rosebaoh,and of
Napoleon at Austerlitz.
A light and trifling mind never take' in
great ideas, and never a000mpklshe$ anye
thing gime Or good, Sprague,
1'