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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1895-8-2, Page 29 T 81441108014$ V,C$13T, .l , I/GUST HEART TO HEART 011e LOVE'S TJ 1U XNG• OIIOICE,, caAITER Yl,—(Coxs7Nvmu.) " t would tell thee, dear, that love le n slave • Who droade thought of freedom, a,i life dreeda the grove f ,And !f doubt or terror of change there should Such fear would but drive hito still Closer to thee "" He gives, and gives all," tnut'mured 'the peer gill. " Surely Mime those words Were written no one has resigned more for love's 'sake than I have, In giving up Roger I hove indeed givou my all." The Iuaroesigg oolduena of the air•—now that the pelt Winter sun had set behind the wooda of Marham --warned Hilda that her final parting from her beloved home was fest approaching, and slowly and sorrowtully ehe retraced her steps through the deserted park to her oten desolate apartments. "Do you dfu8 downstairs today ina'atn?" asked Perkins, who was in her mistress's room when Hilda entered. " No, thank you, Perkins," the girl answered ; " take some dinner into my boudoir, and I shall not change my dress," she added, sexing that Perkins had laid a dress of mostly crepe upon the sofa ; " you may put that away." "111r• Montacute celled while you were out, ma'am," said the maid, as she pro• ceedod to obey Hilda'e orders and replace the dinner dress in the wardrobe. " He seemed greatly vexed not to fiud you et home, and he went into your romp and . wrote a note ; I put it on your writing table, ma'am." Hilda made no reply, but hastily left the room to means herself of the last letter whioh, iu all human probability, she would ever receive from Roger Montauute, It was a brief pencil scrawl, and ran as follows: " I am so grieved not to 8e8 you to. day, my darliug ; my aunt has given me back my ring and your cruel message, but do not think, Bflda, that I will abide by your decisiou. I utterly refuse to give up my promised wife, and have told Mrs. Palmer that I shall marry you at once, and we will seek a new land, sweetheart, where my strong arm, of which she cannot deprive me, shall work for and protect my wife. I shall see you early to -morrow. Ever your own, Roger." " My deer, brave •Roger," murmured Hilda, " to•morrow I shall be far away. I cannot take advantage of your generosity; 1 will not ruin your life," andsittingdown by her w citing table she wrote the following reply to his impassioned linea: " My Dearest Roger—Your teuder, lov- ing note has touched me deeply, but it has not altered my detieion. Peunilesa and nameless, I will not let the [shadow of my evil fate fall acme your path. Farewell forever, darliug.". This slie eucloeed is an envelope, and her dinner over, rang for Perkioe. " Tell Parker to saddle my mare and ride over to the Temple with this note for Mr. Montacute," she said, giving her last order in. her father's house. " When is he to go, ma'am ?" said her maid, as she took the letter. "He can go noisy" rejoined her mistreat, glencing at the hands of the time -piece, which pointed to half -past seven. " There is no answer, Perkins, and I shall not re- quire you again to•niglit," and, bidding her mistress a respectful goodnight, the maid withdrew, leaving Hilda free to complete her brief preparations for her lonely mid• night journey. She would have to walk to the neighbor- ing market town, a distance of five miles, in order to catch the express train to 'town, which stopped there at half -past nine o'clock. She had, therefore, but little time to spare. She had previously attached a strap to the travelling bag whioh contained her mosey and jeweis; this she buckled round her slender waist, and putting on sealskin coat and cap, to whioh she added a thick crape veil,shewrappedberself warm- ly in the large, fur•liued oarriage cloak, which has been purchased for such a far different journey, and taking the bag which contained her simple necessaries in her band, she opened the door and—her Light footfallmaking no sound upon the think carpet—noiselessly descended the ateirs. One solitary lamp was burning in the vast hall as she entered, which only served to make the darkoese and gloom of the shadowy place more apparent ; the servants were ell to their own portion of the mau- eton,making the most of the unusual liberty and freedom which the absence of a matter and mistress tuabled them to enjoy. A bright light streaming from under the closed door of a small study, where hix. Wilmot was Bitting, was the only sign of life perceptible in the great houae so lately blazing with light, thronged with servants and filled with gay company. Trembling so excessively that she could hardly atand, Hilda with difficulty unbarred the heavy hall door, and, stepping out, solely cloned it behind her. As the great bar was shoe into its place with a dreary clang and Hilda arced outside under the brilliant, frosty stars of that Winter night, she realized for the Bret time the maguitnde of the step she waa taking, and knew that ehe was "out in the sold world," homeless, friendless, with the door of her Duly refuge closed behind her. CHAPTER VII. FALLEN AMONG 'Mumma. While her life lasted Hilda could never retail without a shudder the events of that night, when ehe fled from her home, leaving all dope, all happiness, behind,, The memory of that night recur• ring to her in her happiest hours had power to cause her a pang of agony, such as one experieuoes when toms careless finger, is laid upon a half•healed wound. When she had left the park and struck out into the high road she walked rapidly along through the woods of Marham, where she had so often rambled in the days that were no more; along the herd, white road, and on, till the lights of the little market town trembled in the keen, frosty air, The 'station was teacliod, and, cold and tired, Hilda wee glad to gain its wale come shelter. Looking at the clock, the weary girl discovered that she had fully half an hour to wait before the arrival of the up express. A porter who was standing about on the lookout for a job perceived her and came forward to relieve her of her bag. He was a stranger to 'Hilda, ao she asked him to get her a sup of tea, and turning into the waiting -room eat down before the splendid fire whioh blazed in the grate. The porter brought her the tea and a bath bus, and while she elpped the refreshing beverage the man offered 10 get her blotto, the beaking ofliue being open, At last with a melt and, is roar tate uprose train stemmed on to the platform, end Hilda, having liberally feed the oblig- ing parlor, waa soon nand in a first ela8n carriage, speeding through the cold, frosty night on the Gest step of her unknown journey., In leo than an hour the Paddington terminus was reaohed, and feeling, oh so lonely and weary, H110.1418 the oarriage and mingled with the ddream of eager pees. engine, ail clamoring for their luggage. The flhrletmae holidays were j118t over and the station woe crowded. Hilda was pushed and joebled to and fro, and, feeling very lonely and helpless ued forlorn, she eat down on a b8n011 60 wait until the beetle should have subsided and sire could find a porter to °newer her fuquiries as to whore elle could prouure a lodging for the night. As she eat, weary and dtspiribed upon the bench on the greet draughty plat, form, her lovely, pale lame, framed in1te rich moose, of gleaminghair and her exquisite, miety eyes filled with tear's, caught the at- tention of a Lady who was passing, and who, after pausing for moment and attentively regarding the tired figure of: the young girl clad in her deep mourning and rich, dark furs, advanced, and in a plea8aue, gentle voice °eked if she was waiting for a friend. Hilda railed her head and caw before her a tall, fine-looking woman, handsomely dressed in black, her velvet jacket deeply bordered with sable, and a most becoming bonnet of blank velvet with azure plumes shading her comely face and silvery hair. The kindly voice and genial manner sheered the girl's drooping spirits, and she answer. ed: " Na, madam, I have no friends in Lon- don ; 1 am quite alone." "Then wile* are you doing here, poor child, alone at this late hour ?" asked ehe lady and Hilda replied : I have lost my father and have had to leave my home. I am only waiting to ask a porter to direct me to some hotel where I can pass the nights' " My poor child," replied the lady, " you are too young and pretty to be left to your own devices ; come home with me for tonight, and to -morrow I can, I dare say, aid you in finding some respectable apartments." Guileless,innoeent'fiflda, lifted her tired eyes to the friendly face that was looking down at her, agreed to the stranger's proposal, and, leaving the crowd- ed station, the lady signalled to a hansom and they were soon rapidly driven down the lamp -lit street. "And what made you oom8 to London, my dear?" her new acqualntanoe asked Hilda. And the young girl replied: "I wash to obtain a governeee's situa- tion. I have had an excellent edueatioo, and. I have plenty of money to support myself until I hear of soinething to snit me." "Where is your baggage," asked her new friend. "I have brought nothing with me except this bag," replied the girl, blushing deeply. "1 have my money and jewels hare,"touch• log au she spoke the dressing bag in which she had deposited all her valuables. "1 can send for my heavy luggage as soon as I hear of a situation." Further conversation waa stopper] by the arrival of the hansom at the door of a pretty eenti•aetaehed villa, and the Lineage lady dismounted from the vehicle and opening the door with her latch -key bade the tired, worn•out girl a Hearty welcome. "Come in here, my dear," she said kind- ly, as she opened the door of a prettily furnished aitting.room at the baok of the house. The apartment was bright with fire andgaslight, and in a low chair by the hearth was a tall, slight woman dressed handsomely in a rustling silk of a dark wine color, her hair elaborately dressed above a tired, worn face which once must have been ennneutly lovely, but which now bora an expreso,on of nearly [self-contempt which tea plainly betokened au aching heart. Her deep, brilliant eyes scanned Hilda's face attentively as ehe rose to bid her welcome, "This is my niece, GeraldineGray,"eaid the handsome hostess. " Will you get dile poor olild some tea, love? She is quite exhaust. ed." Then, turning to Hilda, ehe said : "My daughters are at the theatre to -night, and sup afterward at a friend's house. They will not be home until late, and we never keep the servants up," "Pray do not take any trouble for me," answered Hilda; "indeed there le no oceu• sio0," she added, as Mise Gray rose to leave the room. " A good night's rent is all 1 require." Oh nonsense, my dear," responded her hostess good humoredly, " 1)o you think we Loudonera are so inhospitable at that ? A good cup of tea will refresh you, and I should advise a spoonful of brandy in it to prevent your taking cold.' " The tea will be very welcome, but no brandy, thanks," replied Hilda. " I never like spirits and have a distracting head. aohe." The door at that moment opened, ad. mibtiug Miss Gray,whe carried a little tray with a dainty ten laid upon it. But Hilda could not eat, though the cold chicken and delicate slices of bread and butter looked moat tempting, and was glad to follow her hostess to the pretty bedroom prepared for her. Bidding her new acquaintance a grateful good night, Hilda soon Laid her aching head upon the pillow, and worn out by the fatigue and extetontent of the day,she slept profoundly. So sound indeed was her slumber that she did not hear the gentle footfall of her bootees, as clad in dressing gown and slippers, ehe noiselessly entered Hilda's room, and after looking for some ab the lovely girl maim lay sleeping profound. ly, her golden hair eoattered over the pillow,ehe took something from rho dressing table and withdrew es notaelessly as the had entered, How long Hilda had slept she knew not, when she was roused from her feverish slumbers by a bright light shining in her eyoo. Hastily rising from her pillow, she beheld Min (,ray bending over her. " What is the matter," exclaimed the girl, as Oho noticed 81,08 Mie Gray's faro wag very pale. Huth 1" replied Goraldino hastily ; "rise and dress, and I will tell you," " But what is ie?" said Hiida, hardly awake yet, but tieing, nevertheless, arid. beginning to pub on her olotheo. " You must dress and Ileo from this accented house et once 1" replied the ether. " Child, you do net guess half the evil to witch every moment you remain here exposes soh I' bi hy, then, do you stay ?" asked Hilda, frightened by Mies Gray's words and manner, " W lty do I stay 1" says the latter, with a bitter laugh, " jfeoaueo 1 have 810 other dome. ,Ah, weula to heaven some band had been outoiretohed to save me when I entered these evil daore 1" ' "But I de net understand,." 880 Hilda, terrified, circ ooareely know why, by fifer• aldine'e mysterioti . words. "My poor girl 1 ' said the elder woman, laying her baud very eenderly on Ghe other's ar,us,'thio house hides many evil deeds, of whioh 1 dare nob tell you ; but ea you value your peace and happiuese, go at mice before the day breaks" / " I am going," sobbed the poor girl, as, with trembling logera she bultoped her bee ey mddrningdrass. "I know you mean kindly;' but ole ! where eau I go at tide time of night, too?" Miss Gray stopppod in her oeoupation of hastily peeking lliidn's few things, and, turning to the frightened girl, Bald gravely "If you hadto pan the nlghb in the workhouse—.aye, even wander about till mornlag without a plata to lay your head, 3 should still urge you to leave Ghia roof et, once; but if yougo a short dis- tance yon willreach the pollee station. There you will lied some one who will find you a night's lodging. You have money?" she asked. And Bilda, putting her hand in her poo - key, produced neepuree—a dainty coy, of. pearl and oilver=in whioh she had planed ten.eovereigns before setting out on tier journey. "I have plenty Here for the present," aefd the girl, "and have also a large sum of money, besides Some valuable jewels in my dresaiug bag," turning to the dressing table, where the had depot ted it when she wont 'to bed. But it wee no longer there ! "Where on earth is I1?" cried Hude nervously, as she looked about the room, but nowhere could elle discover her mioeing tre8anrea. "Oh, Heaveys 1 what shall I do ?" ehe exclaimed in despair, "You have been robbed, poor o1ild," said one woman. "Did Inot tell you this wee a nursed home?" And Hien, as Hilda stood white and trembling before her, she added, passionately t "It ei my aunt who has taken your jewels and money, but do not otay to search for it ; it would be use. lest." And Hilda, quite broken down by this last calamity, etowly and sadly stole down the dimly lighted atairoase, behind the woman who had rescued her. The servant opened the hall door, and as ale did so a gust of wind blew the fad falling snow into the house. Hilda shiver. ed with cold and fear as she glanced into tate snowy street. Sobbing bitterly, the poor girl descended the amps out into the pitiless cold andheavy falling snow of the Winter night. The street was quite deserted when Hilda reached the slippery pavement, and, tired and exhausted as she yeas, she found it well-nigh impossible to struggle on, einem- bared as she was with her heavy cloak and long, urepe•trimmed skirt, to say nothing of the bag she carried. After wandering for some Dime, vainly seeking to fled the polies station to whioh the woman had directed hor,she could go no longer, but sank down upon the stone steps in the shade of the portico of a large building which, though she knew it not, was one of London's famous hospitals. The sufferings of the unhappy Hilda would soon have been over had it noc'Aheen that rese8e was at hand. A. cab drew up at the portal of the hospital,' and the cabby, assisted by another man, lifted from it the &gore of a wretched roman beaten almost to death by her brutal husband. When she had been tenderly carried into the aooidont ward the young man who had brought her in, in descending the steps, spied ,the body of Hilda as she lay huddled up against a pillar. His haety exclamation of surprise brought the cabman to his aid, and between them the inanimate body of the poor girl was raised from Its snowy bed and borne into the hospital. And before morning the idolized daughter of Mark Aeloraine was tossing from aide to side upon her bed in the fever ward, raving in ail the delirious agonies of brain fever. CHAPTER VIII• SOMEBODY'S DARLING. Ie would be impossible to describe the consternation felt by all the inhabitants of the Abbey when the flight of Hilda was discovered, When Perkins entered her mistress's room on the morning succeeding the day on which the poor, friendless girl had so foolishly quitted her only shelter she preceived at once that something un. usual had happened. Tho room lvae in disorder, the bed exactly in the same state as it had been when she had left her mis- tress the preceeding evening, and the clusters of wax lightaon toilet and mantel. piece burned down into their sockets. Perkins, in dismay, hastily left the room to summon the housekeeper, and the news of the flight of their former m188000s 000n spread through the house, Hilda's own groom hastily saddled a horse and, without waiting for any orders, galloped offto the Temple, where, it is needless to say, he found Roger Montacute ready enough to accompany him to the Abby and join in the search for the missing Hilda. Mr, Wilmot had already dispatched a telegram to Nigel Wentworth, informing . him of the young lady's flight and requesting his presence at the Abb It was with feelings of rage and grief almost too deep for utterance that Roger entered thehome of hie lost darling and stood is ler deserted eparbmeote. Perkins could give him no comfort when he question- ed her again and again tie to the reason of Hilda's flight. Tho waiting -maid was dissolved in tears and disposed to take the gloomiest view of the affair, "Oh, sir," she cried repeatedly, "I wish I had not left her alone last night there etasa wildness in her eyes 1 did not like, but says she ' Perkins; says she, ' I shall not require you any more to -night.' You know, sir, she would al- ways have her own way, would my poor mistress. Oh, air ! what if my poor, dear lady 'ave a bin and gone and drownded her poor self"—a renewed burst of tears from Perkins, and Roger interrupted her impatiently:. L'or Heaven's sake, Perkins, don't talk in that horrid manner ; what should Miss Deloraine make away with herself for." " I don't know, I'm sure, sir," sniffed the offended damsel, "I'm only a servant, and as such, of course, can't bo expected to know much about my betters, but I oan and will say as my poor, dear young lady, had 110ver seemed like herself sines her pa died, and I'm sure she was crying in her room for hours upon hours yesterday atter Mrs. Palmer had been and showed her up 80, poor young lady I" Boger turned very red and muttered, beeween his teeth, something that was not a benediction on thus hearing that his acne's visit, and her treatment of Wide had b000mo the common property of the servants' hall, To turn the oonversablon he &eked Per. kiwis if ehe knew when her mistress had loft the 11000, and whether ehe had taken any things with her, don't know, I'm sura, air, what my mistress took. I've been that flurried ever eine° I found that her bed had net been alopt In GbaG you might knock me down with a feather; you might, indeed, sir," eaid I'erklne, assuming a die away air, and looking at the young man as if inviting him to make the attempt. " Well, Perkins, suppose you look over her things," said peer Roger, with a break in his kind, manly voice a} he spoke; and, going over to the window, he stood leaning against the frame and gazing over the exquielte expanse of wood and water, fertile meadow and undulating Mlle, upon whioh his darling's glad oyes had to often gaud, and upon wbieh but yesterday she had taken her Met look, when with the bitterness of death in her heart s1,° had exiled herself for his rake from all she loved. And Roger swore an oath to him. self as he stood there that he would seek and, if possible, find the women he eo de, votedly loved, and far from all those stenee whioh were fraught with to much pain for both of them,, he would work for hie Hilda, happier in the possession of her steadfast love than with all his aunt's hoarded thous. ands. A hasby explanation from Perkins startled him from hisreverie,and with one stride heturned and reached the wardrobe, by the open doors of whioh the waiting maid was standing.; '"What is it, Perkins? What have you found?" asked' the young man, who had turned white to the very lips. "Look here, sir," replied the maid, pointing to a shelf in the wardrobe, upon which were piled morocco aase8 of , very shape and oolor. "My poor mistreats has been and left all her beautiful wedding presents 1 Oh, Lord o' mercy, whatever, should she have dour that for, mane she was going to put an end t0her poor self?" And Perkine,.moved to afresh burst of grief at tho dismal picture she had conjur- ed up, broke into fresh sola. "Do be quiet, Perkins," replied the young man, better able than the lady's maid to appreciate the delicacy of mind which made it impoeelble for Hilda to re. tain the costly gifts that had been offered by himself and their many friends, on the occasion of the marriage of Mark Delo. raine's heiress. "Ban she taken no clothes with her ?" he asked,ae Parkins,fidgetedoverhermistress's drewera and wardrobes, "No, poor lady l Nothing but what she, [Wood upright in except her fur coat and the big cloak her pa sent for from Russia. How could she carry anything with her?" she asked. And Roger only replied by a hitter sigh. His lovely, tenderly reared darliug wandering through the Winter night alone mid unprotected ! The thought dung hurl to madness, and he exclaimed : "What on earth are we to do, Perkins? Oh, Heavens 1 I wish Wentworth were here 1" 'She have took her own jewels, sir," sale Perkins, returning at length from the survey of her mistress's things, "and I know she have plenty of money,so perhaps she'll bo ail right,"she added. "Leastweye, if she don't get robbed and murdered for the sake, of her jewels. We do hear such shocking things nowadays, I'mm sure the things as.Mr.117aeonreade us in 'the room,' out of the Police News, is enough to make one's blood all of a curdle 1" But Perkins's cheerful surmises were addressed to the empty air, for Roger had left the roomto consult Mr. Wilmot as to the best plan to be pursued to obtain intelligence of the missing girl. Before long Nigel Wentworth arrived from town to join in their eonsultations,and telegrams were dispatched to thedifferent stations along the line, and also to Scotland Yard, requesting the services of a skilled detest. ive ; but all to no purpose. The week wore away and there were no tidings of the lest Hilda. Strange to say,noone had observed her at the station, and the porter, remem- bering the half sovereign with which Hilda had "tipped" him, preserved a discreet silence on the subject of the lovely golden - haired passenger by the 8:30 express. Meanwhile the subject of all this anxiety wos tying upon her narrow bed in the whitewashed ward of the hospital at whose doors she had fallen down insensible on that fatal night of her arrival in London. tier recovery was for along time extremely doubtful. The anguish she had endured at her father's awful death, the discovery of the secret of her birth, the breaking off of her engagement with Roger Montaoute, were amply sufficient to cause the brain fever whioh had struck her ,down, and When to alt these onuses were added the dreadful create of the fivetnight in Louden And the exposure to cold of the snowy streets, it will Dot be wondered at that the skilled physicians and the trained nurses who surrounded Bilda's bed shook their heads gravely and were more than doubtful' of the result of the battle fought between the exhausted sufferer and the eider of the Pale Horse. They had tried in vain to discover any clue to Hilda's friends. The exquisitely fine lace=trimmed linea whioh she wore as well as that contained in her traveling bag, bore the same monogram, elaborately embroidered in satin stitch, that was emblazoned in pearls and pink coral upon her ivory -backed brushes. When she had been found her long, golden hair,unoovered to the bitter blast, etreamed in its rioh profusion over the black silk cloak, lined with Russian sable, which she wore over her sealskin jacket ; her heavy crape skirt was rent and torn and wet with the snow, through whioh aha had waded in her flight through the midnight street,. What had brought her to such a terrible pass ? the doctors vainly askedeach other as, they examined their nnoonsoioue patient. Not poverty,they agreed. Her puree contained nearly £'10, her watch and chain was a. costly toy of blue enamel set with dia- monds, and two diamond rings glittered upon rho &nger of one white hand. Well, they, must wait in patience until aha recovered her reason before they could hope to find the key to this strange enig- ma. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Would Take No Risks. The insurance agent stepped briskly up to the Dutch saloon keeper. Want your life insured ? Your brother's Nup. Your wife's Ter what ? So when she dies you got the money. IR I haunt my house ant it burnt up day buy me sunder. Now if Katrina dies day buys me sadder vino, ,Nub, I keep my Katrina Conflicting Views. Juhnuy—Say, Uncle George, God didn't snake everything, did lie Iinole George—buses he did, Johnny, Johnny—Don't ser how that oan be, 'cause Sie's beau was bore last bight, and I heard Sis say ho made himself at home. AGRICULTURAL, Waterini' the Garden by Mennen Of a Wlndtndlt, Usually a garden le irrigated by run- ning the water between every other, or every third row: Tide neeeteitatee long owe, os, the went, will reach the end bee fore the ground i8 thoroughly wet. To Obviate this trouble, 0, 0, Perry, a• 800' ooesful farmer write8 in a western agricul- tural report that his garden last year wee, mado a8 ehown in the accompanying illus• tration and described below. "Selecting a piece of ground 23xll-QfG., I'Ascertained PLAN FOR IRRIGATING. with a level the way the level lines ran. It was of no consequence which way the beds lay, or what .weretheirohapde. I made them wide enough for two rows of vege- tables, with sunken paths between. The.. path ran around one end of the first bed and then around the opposite end of the second, and so on until the entire plat was 'laid out. Now when a stream of water two or three inches deep fs turned into the path at the highest point of the garden, it will follow the path to the end of the first bed, go round it and down the next path, ate. Three inches of head and the slight fall the water pets going around the ends of the beds will carry t6 back and forth to the bottom of the garden, where perhaps the last bed is two or three feet lower than the first. By this time each bed is wet fromaide to side. An eight -foot windmill, with a small pond or a wooden tank hold. Mg 120 barrels, will enable every family to raise more vegetables and small fruits than it needs." —^— Pasture for Swine. This question receives altogether too little attention at the hands of those who keep swine. It should not be forgotten that the pig io by nature a feeder upon grass as well as upon grains and fruits ; hence, if swine are to be oheaplyfed, some attention must be given to furnishing them with paetures of asuitable charaoterduring the larger portion of the season when the ground is bare. The first pasture that conies in the spring is blue grass. Piga are very fond of it so ong as it is green and succulent. But we should be careful when we first turn brood sows out upon it that are nursing their pigs, quotes the Live Stook and Farm Journal. They should only! be allowed access to it for a [short time at &rat, until they get accustomed to it, or the milk will become ad affected that the digestion of the young pigs will be deranged. Blue grass also makes a good pasture for brood sows in the fall, when clover has been injured by frost. But, even in the full, they should get some additional food when out on pastime. Clover of the common variety is probably the beet kind of pasture for pigs in summer, all things considered. The clover is ready as soon as the blue grass loses its sucelehoe. Both wows and their young spay be pastured on clover, but in addition to the clover, even when at its beat, some meal should be given to the pigs, both young and old. When the clover gets too strong for Ole pigs, so that it begins to get woody, it may be oronped down by other kinds of live etoou. When thus oroyiped down, it begins at once to grow again, and so furnishes young, tender food. When the season so shapes that there is likely to be too strong a growth of the glover pasture, it may be divided by a movable fence. One part may be mowed for hay quite early, and, as Boon as it grows up nicely again, the other part can then be mowp. If the clover in the second instance is not fit for hay, it will make litter, and In some instances it may be allowed: to fall and lie as a niuloh upon the land. A clover pasture properly managed will last from May to the end of September. Barley and oats mixed will also make a ted pasture for pigs. When used for tile. purpeee the chief part of the seed should be barley. Three bushels of seed may be sown to the acre, of which one pare would be oats and five parts barley. This mix- ture may be sown at two or three different times, and, in this way, the pasturing season will be prolonged. Piga are very fond of this pasture, and they will eat large quantities of it unbil it becomes woody. They should have tome other food also when grazing upon a pasture of this °haraotee. Peas also make a good pasture for pigs. But they should not be allowed on the pea pasture until the peas aro nearly ready for cooking, in the green stage. But he feeda his pigs the green peas a week earlier, to accustom diem to the ohangeof diet before they are given the range of the pea field. 13y sowing at different times a posture of this kind may be made to lest [severe! weeke• Rye is a good pasture for pigs, especially in the autumn, when other pasture is liable to be scarce. The rye may be eovt:n in the autumn, and the pige turned in upon it when 11 has made a good growth. They are very fond of it at that season of the year. It will also answer nicely in the spring, but there fa usually plenty of blue grass at thee season. Rape alto furntshee a good pasture for swine. It also may be sown at' different seasons of the year,commencing with Juno, or even May. It may be made to furnioh pasture for pigs for :ooverelmonths. They are fond of ft, and it bas properties which push them on rapidly, providing they ore given some meal at the same tine. Itis thus not a difficult matter to p'ro• vide abundanoo'of pasta() for swine the whole eeasot; through, `,Here eau be nn. gveation of the benefit to them of large- liberty 0101000es to 8001, putting, AO they Deme on in suceeeelou, When pig8are kept . upon suooulout pasture they will eat • nearly ot all the day,teept whilo,the sun le very warm, before, at, and ofter•inidday, They will time omieumo a very large amount of pasture, and it must be good for them they would not onetime it, Pasture i8 cheap food for swine, hence it should always be provided fm' them whomever it may be praoticablo to do this, Dairy Notes, If wo'have a good machine,• we. want lb' to last ;. if it wears out with w year or two of nee it may be too expansive,. The little Jersey Dow ie such a machine, and liob only boginc work early, but never tires nor 1(8110• lined she is old, \Ve could nob afford to replace her every year. Food largely determines the amount and quality of milk and butter. The profit fa, only derived from the excess over that neceeeary'to euetaia animal life. It le eve. done that a Dow kept for milk- can not return her beat profit_ if kept on half rations, Bad results will follow overfeeding the Jersey calf the first few weeks. After, a little skim milk may be substituted for that fresh from the cow, supplying the fat removed front the cream in middlings or oil meal. Ag (kat a tablespoonful of the meal added to faire milk for each calf is enough. It is food which makes the milk, and in order to make rich milkin plenty .the cow must eat plenty' of rioh food. The Jersey is noted as being a feeder' of this kind, a hearty feeder, whioh can cat a large quan. tity of the richest, rind keep it up day after day, In fact, tins is one of her good "points." Gentieneae in a cow is worth money, and counts up in dollars every year. Irritable cows begat irritation in the milker,and this ale aye results in loss, either directly or indirectly. It ivaure better care, for the gentle cow is alwayo Platted. . This gentle disposition is certainly a oharaoteristie of the Jersey. A STUDY OF THUNDER STORMS. rusts About Their Distribution Set Forth by Prof, Hloesoveky or Odessa. Prof. Kloseovckyof the University of Odessa, having made a special study o thunder etorms,hae published a chart show- ing the distribution of suoh storms over the known surface of the globe. It waa already known that thunder storms are rare in high latitudes, and unknown above 75° north. The eleotrioalaotivity of the earth near the poles seems to find vent in auroral displays. In Europe the frequency of thunder storms inoreatiesas the observer moves southward, and there IS a somewhat irregular line of greatest frequency encircling the globe near the equator. The "lumber lessens as one moves southward from the equabor,but nob so rapidly as in moving northward from that lime, and the regiau of strong auroral activity is much narrower in the southern hemisphere than in the northern. The fre- quency of tempests decreases rapidly in going north or south from tate equator in the interior of the continents. There is a line of damnation between the region of frequent and the region of rare tempests, extending from the southwest to the north- east. In the desert of Africa and over Persia and the great area of Central Asia thunder storms are infrequent, the total number in a given locality not exceeding EWE OR SIX ANNUALLY. There ie a zone with a mean of five to ten tempests annually enveloping the northern part of European Russia, the southern port of the Scandinavian peninsula, and Great Britain, while at the extreme northwest of the Scandinavian peninsula and in Siberia the mean descends to one, and even none. In the American continent the number of tempests increases regularly in approach- ing the equator, though here, as in Eueope and Asia, there are marked irregularities in certain regions. Africa, save at points on the coast, is peculiarly free from tempests. The maximum hi reaohedin the Bight of Benin. At Lima, Peru, lightning is never teen. Here, however, earthquakes are of almost daily °eminence, and there seems to be a law that in countries subject to earthquakes thunderstorms are tare, or, perhaps more accurately, where bhunder storme are unknown earthquakes, are fre- quent. At Leon and Guanajuato. Mexico, however, there are from 140 to 150 thunder storme in the year. Prof. Kloosovefty finds that the frequency of thunder storms in a given region de- pends somewhat upon the oonduotivity of the soil. Where the soil is a good eon. duotoe the electrical activity is easily distributed without violence. Limestone regions are subject to thuuder storms because the soil is not a good conductor of eleobrioity. He notes also that is the Old World, in latitude 62 degrees to G4 degrees north, thunder storms are more frequent than in the tame latitude of the New World. At tie same time the region of enteral activity is broader in the New World than in the Old. • His Depressing Thought. He had beau silent in thought for some time. At length ho heaved Et sigh, whioh moved his friend to enquire what the trouble waa This world ain't run right, he answer. ed. Why, you ought to be happy. You've been away enjoying yourself, I under- stand. Yee. I've been away, but 1 . don't see much enjoyment—not in a world where the fish are so shy about bitn' an' the mosqui• toes to eternally willin'. Theological. Bessie—Papa, what ie a unit ? Papa (refieotively)—Wolf, one ie a unit. 'Chen Rate's young man is a Unitarian, isn't 110? How so ? Beoaueeyou acid he was looking out for number one all the time. Not a Running Mate. Bowtoune-- What's the matter with you and Soutdaway? I thought you were such f not friendk. De Goode --He got too fast No fewer than 57.3 ereltitoots entered the botnpotitiml for 1(100 preparation of plane for the projected Paris exhibition of 1800