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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1896-9-18, Page 2FATE'S INSTROMETTS, CHAPTER XIV'.—(gontinued,) ' "AMAMI is =Inhabitable to Me, it do as you ask," he said, • ;Se looked up, the Ceara escaping Iron her eyes. "Mf, and the world to me, if yea don't!" George sat down in an arm-oliairi he abandoned the hope of running away. Neaera eose, plashed beak her bair from her face, and fixed her ()yea eag- erly en hind. Ho looked down for an ins dant, and sire shot a hasty glance t .•.,.the mirror, and then concentrated han. (gaze on him again, a little anxious penile coming to her lips. "You will?" .the asked In a whisper. George petulantly threw hie gloves on table near him. Neaera advanced, was right, and Sidmouth Vanethought there must he aomething behind --he al- ways did, as became a statesman in the raw, Mr.Espien re-echoed his own leaders" like a phonoggraphl and the obairwaxi oe Tie :l 'hernia thanked Heaven they were out of an awkward job, Tint wrath anti iury raged In the breast. of Laura Pocklington. Silo thought George had made a fool other. He had persuaded her to mine dover to his sid,, and had then betrayed he colours. `There would.be joy ea e and Askelon; or, in other words, Timbal Bourne and Maud Neston would crow over her insupportably. I will neversee him or epea t to him ajain, Mamma,' deolared Laura, pes- aronately. "He has behaved abomin- ably!" This announcement rather took the sided out of Mre. Pocklington'e sails. She was just preparing to bear majesti- cally down upon her daughter with a and knelt down beside him, laying her stern ultimatum to the effeot that, for hand on his shoulder, . the present, George must be kept at a so much,' distance, and daughters must be guided have made eyes ory moments umom "'Yo hm theirAt ter mothers. is by e rifle said. "See, my are dim, You nothing is more annoying than t et evon't make me ory any more?" • George looked at the bright eyes, halt veiled in tears, and the mouth trembling on the brink of fresh weep- ing. And the eyes and mouth were Very good. "It is Gerald," sh'e said; "he Ls so strict. And the shame, the shamel" "You don't know, what it means to Me." "I do Indeed: I know it is hard. But you are generous. No, no, don't turn your face away!" George still sat silent. Neaera took his hand in hers. "Ale, dol" she said. George smiled—at himself, not at Neaera. "Well, don't cry any more," said be, "or the eyes will be rad as well as dun." "You will, you will?" she whispered eagerly. He nodded. "Ah, you are good! God bless you, George: you are good!" "No. I am only weak." Neaera swiftly bent and kissed his Mand. "The hand that gives me life," she acid. Nonsense," said George, rather roughly. "Will you clear me altogether?" "Oh, yes; everything or nothing." "Will you give me that—that charac- ter?" Yes," She seized his reluctant band, and ked it again. I have your word?" "You have." She leapt up, suddenly radiant. Ah, George, Cousin George. how I love you! Where is it?" George took the document out of his pocket. Neaera seized it. "Light a candle," she cried. George ,with an amused smile obey- ed her. "You hold the candle, and I will 'burn itl" And she watched the pa- per consumed with the look of a glee- ful child. Then she suddenlystretch- ed her am rs. "Oh, I am tired!" "Poor child!" said George. "You can Ieave it to me now," "However shall I repay you? I nev- er can." Then she suddenly save the oat, ran to him, and pinked him up. We are forgiven, Bob! we are for- givenl" she pried, dancing about the George watoh'ed her with amusement. She put the cat down and eame to him. "See, you have made me happy. Is that enough?" "It is something," said be. "And here is something morel" And she threw her arms round his neck, and kissed him. That's ?setter," said George. "Any more?" "Not till we are cousins." "Be gentle in your triumph." "No, no; don't talk like that. Are you going?" "Yes. i must go and put things straight." "Good-bye. I -I hope you won't find it very hard.. "1 have been paid in advance." Neaera blushed a little. "You shall be better paid, if ever I can," she said. George paused outside, to light a oig- arette; then he struck into the park, and walked slowly along, meditating as he went. When he arrived at Hyde Park Corner, he roused himselt from his reverie. "Now the woman was very fair!" said he, as he hailed ahansom. CELPTER XV. Mrs. Pocklington sat with blank amazement in her face, and a copy of the second edition of the Bull's-eye in her hand. On the middle page,in type widely spaced, beneath a noble head- line, appeared a letter from George Neston, running thus:— "To the Editor of the Bull's-eye. "Sir, "As you have been good enough to interest yourself, and, 1 hope, for- tunate enough to interest your readers, in the subject of pertain allegations made by me in respect of a lady whose name has been mentioned in your col- umns, I have the honour to informyou that such allegations were entirely baseless the result of a chance resem- blance esemblance between that lady and another person, and of my own hasty conclu- sions drawn therefrom. I have with- drawn all my assertions, fully and un- reservedly, and have addressed apologies for them to those who had a right to receive apologies. I have the honor tobe,sir,, "Your obedient servant, George Neaten," And then a column or exultation, sa- tire, ridicule, preaching, praying, pro- phesying, moralising, and what not. The pen flew with wings of joy, and ink was nothing regarded on that day. Mrs. Pocklington was a kind-hearted woman; yet, when she read a sister's vindication, she found nothing better to say then— "How very provokingl" And it may be that this unregenerate exclamation fairly summed up public feeling, if only publio feeling had been indecent enough to show itself openly. A man shown to be a fool is altogether too common a spectacle; a woman of fashion proved a thief would have been a more piquant dish. But in this world—and, indeed, probably hi an other—we misfit tape what we can get; and since society could not trample on Neaera Witt, at consoled itself by cor- recting oyrecting and chastening the misguided spirit of George Neston. Tommy Myles shook his empty little head, and all the other empty beads shook solemnly in time. Isabel Bourne said she knew she with agreement, when one intends to extort submission. "Good gracious, Literal" said Mrs, Pocklington, "you cau't care much for the man." "Care for him! I detest hurl" "My dear, it hardly 1orikeo like it." "You must allow me some self-re- spect, mamma: Mr. Paddington, entering, overheard thest words, 'Hallo!" said he:What's the matter?" "Why. my dear, Laura declares' that she will have nothing to say to George Weston." that's just your oven. view, isn't it?" A silence ensued, Itseems to me you are agreed." It really did look like it; but they had been on the verge of a pretty quar- rel all the same; and Mr,.poeklington was confirmed in the opinion he had lately begun to entertain that, when paradoxes of mental process are in ques- tion, there is in truth not much to choose between wives and daughters. Meanwhile, George: Neston was stead- ily and unflinchingly devouring, his humble -pie. He sought and obtained Gerald's forgiveness, after half an hour of grovelling abasement. He listened to Tommy Myles's grave rebuke and Sidmouth Vane's cynical raillery with- out a smile or a tear. He even brought himself to accept with docility a letter full of Christian feeling which Isabel Bourne was moved to write. All these things, in fact, affected him little in comparison with the great question of his relations with the Pock- lingtons. That, he felt must be set- tled at once, and, with leis white sheet yet round him and bis taper still in his hand, he went to call on Mrs. Pock- lington, • He found that lady in an attitude of aggressive tranquility. - With careful ostentation she washed her hands of the whole affair. Left to her own way,she might have been inclined to consider that George's foolish reckless- ness bad been atoned for by his manly retraotation—or, on the other hand, might. not. It mattered very little which would have been the case; and, if it comforted him, he wan at liberty to suppose that she would have em- braced the former opinion. The decis- ion did not lie with her. Let him ask Laura and Laura's father. They had made up. their minds, and it was not in her province or power to try to change their minds for them. In fact, Mrs. Pocklington took up the position which Mr. Spenlow has made famous—only she had two partners where Mr. Spenlow had but one. George had a shrewd idea that her neutrality covered a favorable inclination towards himself, and thank- ed her warmly for not ranking herself among his enemies. I wan even emboldened," he said, "to ask your edema how I can best over- come Alias Pocklington's adverse opin- ion." "Laura thinks you have made her look foolish. You see, she took your cause up rather warmly." "I know. She was most generous." "You were so very confident." "Yes; but one little thing at the end tripped me up. I couldn't have fore- seen it. Mrs. Pocklington, do you think she will be very obdurate?" "Oh, I've nothing to do with it. Don't ask me." I with I could rely on your influ- ence.' I haven't any influence," declared Mrs. Pocklington. 'She's as obstinate as a—as resolute as her father." George rose to go. He was rather disheartened; the price he had to pay for the luxury of generosity seemed very high. Mrs. Pocklington was moved to pity. "George," she said, "I feel like a traitor, but I will give you one little bit of advice." "Ah 1" cried George, his face bright- ening. 'What is it, my dear Pocklington 1" "As to my husband, I say nothing; but as to Laura "Yes, yes l" "Let her alone—absolutely." "Let her miens! But that's giving it up." "Don't call, don't write, don't be known to speak to her. There, ,I've done what I oughtn't; but you'rean old friend of mine, George." "But I say, Mrs. Pocklington, won't some other fellow seize the chance?" "If she likes you best, what does that matter ? If she doesn't—" And Mrs. Pocklington shrugged her shoul- ders. George was convinced by this logic, "I will try," he said. "Try 1" "Yes, try to let her alone. But it's difficult." "Stuff and nonsense. Laura isn't in- dispensable." I know. those are not your real views." "You're not her mother ; for which you may, thank Heaven." I do," said George, and took bis Ieave, rather consoled. Ile would have been even more eheerful had he known that Laura's door was ajar, and Laura was listening for the bang of the hall door. When she heard at, she went down to her another. "Who was your visitor, mamma?" "Oh, George Neston." "What did he come about?" "Well, my dear, to see me, I sup- pose" "And what did he find to say for him- self im- sal Oh, we hardly talked about that affair at all. However, he seems in very good apirita " I'm acro hs bad no business to be," "Perhaps not, mydear ; but he was." "I didn't know it web Mr. Neston. I'm so glad I didn't some down," Mrs. Pocklington went 011 knitting. " I expect he knew why" e Mrs, Pocklington counted three pearl and three talain, Did be Say anything about it, Imam - "One, two, three, About what, dear?" "Why, abort -about any not coming?" s. ontl"o, I suppebe he thought yen Were "Hid you teff him so ?" "fide :didn't ask, my deer. He !las tithes' thing to thinly about than being attentive to young wanes." It's very lucky he bas,' gaid Laura, haueehtily, "aty dear, he lets you alone, Why can't yeti let him alone?" Laura tools upa book and Mrd, Pocklington couned her etitehes in a brisk and ohearfu), tone. It will be seen that George had a good friend In Afrs, Pookliugton, In truth he needed aortae kindly eounten- ancs, ,for society et large had gone mad in praise of Neaera and Gerald. They were the fashion, Everybody tried to talk to them; everybody was coining to the wedding' everybody rav- ed about Neaera'a sweet patience and Gerald's unwavering faith. }Vben Neaera drove her lover round the park in her victoria, their journey Was a triumphal progress; and only the bur- deu of preparing for the wedding pat- ented the pair being ho g at everyselect. gathering. Gerald walk- ed on ar. His open hopes were realised, his secret fears laid to rest; wile Nea- era's exaggerated mouse for George be- trayed to his eyes nothing but the ex- ceeding Sweetness of her disposition. Her absolute innocence explained end justified her utter absence of resent- ment, and must, Gerald felt, add fresh pangs to George's remorse and shame. These pangs Gerald did not feel it his duty to mitigate., Thursday came, and Monday was the wedding day. The atmosphere was thick with new clothes, cards of invita- tion, presents, and congratulations. A thorny question had arisen as to whe- ther George should be invited. Neaera's cleoision was in his favor, and Gerald himself had written the note, hoping all the while that his cousin's own good sense would keep him away. It would be bardlydecent in him to come," he said to his father. "1 daresay be will make some ex- cuse," answered Lord Tottleliury. "But I hope you won't keep up the quar- rel." uayrel:' "Keep up the quarrel! By jove, fa- ther, I'm too happy to quarrel. "Gerald," said Maud Neston, enter- ing, here's such a funny letter for you! I wonder it ever reached.' She held out a dirty envelope, and lead the address— "Mr. Neaten, Esq., Hie Lordship Tottilberry, "London." "Who in the world is it?" asked Maud, laughing. Gerald had no worsts. I don't know," said he. "Give it to me, and we'll see." He opened the letter. The first thing he came up- on was a piece of tissue paper neatly folded. Opening it, he found it,to be a ten -pound note. 'Hullo! is this a wedding present?" said he with a laugh. Ten pounds! How funny!" exclaim- ed Maud, "Is there no letter?" "Yes, here's a letter!" And Gerald read it to himself. The letter ran as follows, saving cer- tain eccentricities of spelling which need not be reproduced: „Sir, I don't rightly know whether this here is your moneyor Nary's. Nor I don't know where it comes from, after what you said when you was here with her Friday. I can work for my liv- ing, thanks be to Him to whom thanks is due, and I don't put money in my pocket as I don't know whose pocket it came out of. "Your bumble servant, 'Susan Bort." "Susan Bort!" exclaimed Gerald. "Now, who the deuce is Susan Bort, and what the deuce does she mean?" "Unless yon tell us what she says began Lord Tottlebury. Gerald read the letter again, with a growing feeling of uneasiness. Ile no- ticed that the postmark was Liverpool. It so chanced that he had not been to Liverpool for more than a year. And who was Susan Bort? He got up, and, making an apology for not reading out his letter, went to his own room to consider the matter. Nery? " said he. "And if 1 wasn't there, who was?" It was generous of George Neston to shield Neaera at Liverpool. It was also generous of Neaera to sand Mrs. Bort ten pounds immediately after that lady had treated ber so cruelly. It was honest of Mrs. Bort to refuse to accept money which she thought might be the proceeds of burglary. To these commendable actions Gerald was in- debted for the communication which disturbed his bliss. I wonder if Neaera can throw any light on it," said Gerald. "it's very queer. After lunch, I'll go and ,see her." CHAPTER XVI. 11Ir. Blodwell was entertaining Lord Mapledurham at luncheon at the The- mis Club. The Marquis was not in an agreeable mood. He was ill, and when he was ill be was apt to be cross. His host's calm satisfaction with the issue of the Neston affair irritated him. "Really, Blodwell," he said, "I some- times think a lawyer's wig is like Sam- son's hair. When lie takes it off, he takes off all his wits with it. Your simplicity is positively childish." Mr. Blodwell gurgled contentedly over a basin of sou.p. I think no evil unless I'm paid for it," he said, wiping his mouth. "George found he was wrong, and said so." I caw the girl in the Park yester- day,' the Marquis remarked. "She's a pretty girl." Uncommonly. But I'm not aware that being pretty makes a girl a thief." "No, but it makes a man a fool." "My dear Mapledurhaml" "Did he ever tell you what he found out at Liverpool?" "Did he go to Liverpool?" "Did he go? God bless the man! Of course he went, to look for—" Lord Mapleduxham stopped, to see who was throwing a shadow over his plate. "May I join you?" asked Sidmouth Vane, wino thought he was conferring a privilege. Pm interested in what you arts discussing." "Oh, it's you, is it? Have you been listening?" "No, but everybody's discussing it. Now, I agree with you, Lord Maple- durham. It's a pet -up job. I expect you thought it was a put- up job when they baptised you, didn't you" inquired the Marquis. "And looked for poison in your bot- tle?" added Blodwell. Vane gently waved his band, as if to scatter these clumsy sarcasms. "A man may not be sixty and yet not be an ass," he languidly observed. "Wait- er, some salmon, and a pint of 44." "And may be sixty and yet be an ass, eh?" said the Marquis, chuckling. "Among ourselves, why do you sup- pose he let her off?" asked Vane. The Marquis pushed back his their. "My young friend, you are too wise. Something will happen to you." Hallo!" oxclanned Vane, "Here's Gerald Neston,!' Gerald came hastily up to Mr. Bled - well. "Do you know where George isl" he asked, • . "I believe he's in the club Soon - where," linstvoa'ed Mr. lllodwell, "No, he is"n't. I want to See blur on buslnesa.' Ler!' Nfenledurham rose. "I know TOUT' tether, Mr. Newton,' he Said, Yon must Allow Me to shako hands with you, and oongrntelate you on Your a proaohin Marriage:' Gorala received }iia .congratulations With an absent air. "I Moat go and find George," he said, and smuouts, There!" said Vane, triumphently. "Don't you see there's Something up now?" The elder man triad to snub him, but they glanced at ops another and silently aclnuitted that it looked as if he were right, Mrs, Bort's letter had stirred into ere tivity all the doubts that Gerald Wel- t() had tried to stifle, and had at last succeeded in silencing. There was is darkly Mysterious tone about the doe- uniant that roused his suspicions, Ei- ther there was a new and a more tin- s:repulous plot against his birds, or else—Gerald did not finish his train of thought, but he determined to see Neaera at once, me George could not be found without a journey to the Tem- ple; and a journey to the Temple was twice as far as a journey to Albert Mansions. Nevertheless, had Gerald known what was happening at the Tem- ple, he would have gone there first; for in George's chambers, at that very moment, George was sitting in his chair, gazing blankly at Neaera Witt, who was walking restlessly up and down. You sent her ten pounds?" be gasp- ed. "Yes, yes," said Neaera. "I can't let the creature starve," (To be continued). PRAISED BRITISH INFLUENCE. Au out !laws 'Head on a nor•'s f houlderr —What Aniarlca (1,155 to England. it is noteworthy that when Jahn ltandolph, of Roanoke, Va., first ap- peared in public life as a candidate for the United States Congress in 1799, Patrick Henry was hie opponent. Ran- dolph was very youthful in appearance, and it is related that, as he was address- ing the people in answer to his oppon- ent, a friend said to the latter, "Come, Henry, let us go; it is not worth while to listen to that boy." Mr. Henry re- plied, "Stay, my friend. There is an old. man's head on that boy's shoulders." There is no doubt that Randolph was one of the most brilliant orators that America has produced. He habitually made the resources of others sdbserv- ient to his oratorical purposes, but he gave a new value to the sentence quot- ed, and there was as much talent ex- hibited in the selection and application as in the conception and expression of the idea. He was, however, an unequal speaker, for he usually spoke without preparation, and the effect of his speeches seems to have depended much upon the state of his nervous systema EVERYBODY WELCOME. A8 a specimen of his style, Mr. Hard- wicke presents an extract from Ran- dolph's speech against the war of 1812'. The extract shows that Anglomania is no new thing among the Yankees, though it has seldom been so forcibly defended. Randolph began by pointing out that "the great autocrat of all the Russians receives the bomage of our high con- sideration. The Dey of Algiers and his divan of pirates, are, it seems, it very civil, good sort of people,with whom we find no difficulty in maintaining the relations of peace and amity. Turks and infidels, barbarians and savages of every clime and color, are welcome to our arrest With chiefs of banditti, ne- gro or mulatto, we can treat and trade. IN ARMS AGAINST ENGLAND. "Name, however, but England, and all our antipathie' are up m arms against her. Against whom? Against those whose blood runs in our veins, in common with whom we claim Shakes- peare, and Milton and Chatham for our countrymen; whose form of government is the freest on earth our own only excepted; from whom every valuable principle of our own institutions has been borrowed—representation, jury trial, voting system, writ of habeas corpus—our whole civil and criminal jurisprudence; against our fellow Pro- testants, identified in blood, in lan- guage, in religion with ourselves. In what school did the worthies of our land, the Washingtons, Henrys, Han - cocks, Franklins, Itutledges of Am- erica learn those principles of dell lib- erty which were so nobly asserted by their wisdom and valor? American resistance to British usurpation has not been more warmly cherished by these great men and their compatriots—net more by Washington, Hancock and He•nry.1than by Chatham and his il- lustrious associates in the British par- liament. It ought to be remembered, too, that the heart of the English peo- ple was with uls. I acknowledge tbo influence of a Shakespeare and a Milton upon the imagination of a Locke upon my understanding; of a Sidney upon my political principles; of a Chat- ham upon qualities which would to God I possessed in common with that illustrious man; of a Tillotson, a Sher- lock, and a Porteus upon my religion. This is a British influence which I can never shake off." JAPANESE WOMEN CYCLISTS. The all -conquering bicycle has in- vaded Japan, and is now a familiar sight in the land of the jinrikisha. The Europeans take to it kindly, and the little brown men and women are equal- ly enthusiastic, The Government has equipped many of Its postmen with roadsters, especially those who deliver mail in the suburbs or in the country districts, In each brigade a bicycle corps has been formed who aro daily chilled in about the same style as simi- lar organizations in armies of Europe. The. Japanese people themselves still regard the wheel as a great curiosity, but are beginning to both master it and manufacture it, Some of the Saneness women have adopted aqueer bicycle costume that is a eombivationof bloomers with the native dress. It is neither Japanese nor European. Combined with the upper part of the kamona costume the Jap- anese clothe their nether limbs in what aro neither knickerbockers, trous- ers, zoueves, nor bloomers. The lu- dicrous effect is heightened by the girl having the natural habit of turning the toes in, developed to its largest ex- tent, A.11 that you see when she passes von is a pair of round pretty heelswab- AURJCULTIJ IL MANURE AND ITS APPLICATION, .Il'arm-yard manuro is taken as the type Of manures, because it contains all the constituents removed figam the land, and again restored to it in a form In which they can be made readily available, `.Cho carbonic sold and salts 01 ammo - Me, produced buy iks decomposition, cause water to disomies more rapidly the Min- eral constituents, An artificial Manure can be theoret' teeny compounded to take the place of farm -yard Manure, but it must contain' all its mineral constituents, The farmer must return to the' land whatever has been removed from it, for if the consti- tuenta of a soil be abstracted without making compensation, Lt i8 at the cost sooner or later o1 impairing its fer- tility. As bones furnish, only two substances to crops,: selence as well as experience indicate that they are more likely to be useful when used as auxiliaries, for eatample, with farm yard manuro. If the bons is defioieat in bone 'earth the first application will produce good re- sults. A constant repetition is produc- tive of no increased fertility, but by the addition of other mineral consti- tuents necessary, the accumulated, stores of bone earth will immediately begin to develop, • In the shape of the agricultural pro- duct of a field, the entire amount of these constituents which have become ingredients of plants is removed from the soil. After a series of years and a corre- sponding number o£ harvests, the fer- tility of the soil or field diminishes; the change which is found to have taken place in the composition or the soil after harvest is the probable cause of its diminished or lost fertility. By means,of solid or lieuid manure or excreta of mon and annuals, the lost or diminished fertility is restored. Solid or farm -yard manure consists of decayed vegetables and animal mat- ter which contains a certain proportion of the constituents of the soil. The ex- crements of men and animals represent the ashes of the food consumed. and which has been derived from the soil. The urine contains soluble, the solid ex- creta the insoluble constituents of the soil derived from the Drops, used as food, and reaped from the soil, it re- covers those constituents which have been removed from it in the crops. Thus the restoration of Its original composition is accomplished by the res- toration of its fertility. It is therefore certain that one of the conditions of fertility of the soil is the presence m it of certain nnineral constituents. A rich and fertile ground contains more of these than a poor barren one does. Vegetable and animal matter and ex- creta when in the soil, undergo putri- fioation and show oxidation; the nitro- gen of their nitrogenized constituents is changed in the petrification and decay into ammonia, and a small part into nitric acid, which is the product of ox- idation or decay of ammonia. In animal manures, therefore, not only are plants supplied with the'min- eral substances which the soil must yield, but they are also supplied with those parts of their food which the plant obtains from the atmosphere, the latter supply, is a clear addition to that which the air at all times affords. In applying barn -manure, some use it in large quantities, and do not re- pent till the land is exhausted. The better way is to give it a more moder- ate quantity_ and repeat it often. The quantity used will vary accord- ing to the nature of the soil, the qual- ity of manure, and the kind 01 crop. The best mode of application is to spread the manure as early as possible on the surface of the ground,, at a time when it is not saturated with moisture or bound up with frost but in a season of showers. The soluble organic and mineral in- gredients will • in from ten to fifteen days, according to the amount of rain, be washed into and retained by the soil, and insoluble matter can then be covered by the plough. The method of depositing the man- ure on the field in heaps and leaving it so for a length of time, is a bad practice; the soluble matter is washed into the ground, under and immediately adjoining the heaps, and cannot after. wards be evenly distributed by rain through the soil Bence the result is in- equality in' the crops of such fields. On light soils mineral manures wbioh contain their phosphates and alkalies in the most soluble state should be ap- plied in the spring ; on heavy soils it will answer to apply them in the fall, but before the ground freezes. DAIRY GLEANINGS. Ropy milk is often due to a disor- dered state of the liver. Give a fair dose of epsom salts (three-fourths pound) to each cow, and follow this with a dose each alternate day of the following: Bicarbonate of soda, ono ounce, extract of taraxacum four drams, extract of gentian four drams, water three quarts. Dissolve the taraxacum and the gentian with one and a half pints of the water (bot), and the bicar- bonate of soda in remaining half pint, Mix the whole. and give thein when sufficiently cool. The aim id churning should be to churn at as slow a temperature as will bring the butter in a reasonable length of time, and it is an excellent plan to keep a memorandum of the temperature of the cream, the tem- perature of the room in which the churning is dons, together with she length of time of the churning. After such a memorandum has been kept Lor a while, one will be surprised at its usefulness: And, in fact, unless ono is blessed with a phenomenal mem- ory,, a memorandum of the dairy ops cautions will be Lound to be of bene- fit. Prof. G. L, McNay finds from repeat- ed experiment that the flavor of but- ter, other conditions being equal, ds ponds largely upon the right degree of acidity, and to the frequent stirring of the cream during the ripening process, which promotes the develop- ment et many oC the lactic acid germs that .require oxygen for their propa- gation. Cream that is warmer than the atmosphere gives off odors while cream that is cooler is liable to take them on. Quick ripening at a tem- perature of about seventy degrees, with frequent stirring, basroduced the best results in Prof. Moray a ex- cling in an Uncertain manner, and a penance. He finds no difficulty in little body coiled up that makes you changing the flavor of butter from one think of a gay little monkey on the top to three points where the same lot of of a pole. cream is divided and ripened to differ- SEPT. 1.8, 4896 eat degrees et acidity at varices tens- peratgree. 'Ripening .for a long period and without stirring, is liable to prodico bitter flavor, and low temperature is Moro tavorablo to the ghrowth of •tee geraeS which impart nue . flavor, It taken 100 poupds of butter at a geed market price. to Pay for the keep- ing or a cow one year, At the Stan- dard of 4 per cent. of butter tat, that amount of butter will require about 3,809 pounds of milk. Therefore a cow Must,yield 8,400 pounds of milk, or say 1700 quarts,. to just stand even wrath her owner, if butter is Made. In order to give a fair profit on the invest- ment, a cow should ,sfield at leant 6,000 pounds of 4 per cent, milk, )which would produce say 240 pounds of Butter, The svakillueaonfdaiknittie-lngiloon, o81/ , ?vita bbae nadbieodutw3it1h5 is year, The !loyal Agricultural Society of England gives. the following rules: To brine butter, make a atrong brine, two or three pounds of salt to one gallon of water. Place straining cloth over. mouth of churn; pour in brine, put lid on churn, turn sharply half a dozen times, and leave from ten to fifteen minutes. Then lift'the butter out of churn into sieve, turn butter out on Worker, leave it a few minutes to drain, and work gently till all superfluous moisture fa pressed out. To dry -salt butter, place butter on worker, let it dram ten to fifteen minutes,' then work gently till all the butter comes to - tother ; place it on the scale and weigh hen weigh salt—for slight salting l -t oz., medium, 1-2 oz., heavy, 9-4 oz. to the pound of butter. Roll butter out on worker and carefully sprinkle salt over surface, a little at a time; roll up and repeat till all the salt is used. REFLECTIONS OF A TAXPAYER. How (La Govoraluen('s Demand for Ea. Yonne Catelies ii Rurslmi. This is a Frenebman's story of bis experience with itis Government's in- satiable demands: "When I awake in the morning, I strike a match, and remember that I pay duty on matches. I then light my candle, having, or course, paid a duty on candled. Jumping out of bed, Irun to the window for a breath of fresh air, and reflect that there isa tax on every door and window in every house in France. I turn to my toilet table, and remember the impost on soap and every other article I employ. I next take a walk in my garden—ground tax. I light a cigar or take a pinch of snuff —duty on tobacco. At breakfast I find that the wood or coal that helped to make my coffee has paid octroi., and it may be, import duty besides. The table at whieh and the chair on which I sit have likewise paid entrande dues, the cups and saucers have been mulct- ed in the same way, while the fees for the state mark have been levied on my plate. Whether i partake of beef, mut- ton, veal, pork or venison, I must pay the octroi. 1' am fond of salads—the salt, pepper, vinegar and oil I use in ppre- parmg them have been subjected to a tax; and it matters not whetherl drink beer, cider or perry, I have to pay the state its share all the same. After lunch I take a cafe noir, with a drop of eau de vie, and swallow thereby three taxes at one draught, viz., sugar, coffee, and alcohol. After this I harness my, horse, and pay the republic for the privilege; besides which 1� pay again on the bay. and oats he has eaten, and the straw. on which he has slept. If I go out for a drive it implies a new tax. If I mount a bicycle, another tax of 101. If I go hu.ntingis one tax; if I buy gun- powder orchard another. I ten the meet: avfriiend, and we repair to a cafe to have a game of billiards, and forget this vexa- tious taxation, but find that we must pay an impost on the billiards. I put down the cue, disheartened, and take up a pack of cards, but am at once confronted by a tax upon cards. I fin- ally feel that all this is preying on any mind, soI go and weigh my body to see how much flesh I have lost; but I have first to pay the tax on weights and measures to which all citizens are liable. One of my sisters is a nun; therefore, she must pay a tax for her costume. I wish to let my rooms, and run away from it all, and I stick up an announcement to that effect on the door of my house; but on this there is afresh tax—and so en, without endo" Lel VELVET STOCK AND TIE, The velvet stock -collar shown is of nastttrtium-yellow miroir velvet, At the front are cravat ends meeting in a knot, with a fall of deep yellow lace, and a bow of the lace covers the fas- tening of the collar at the baok. The vest illustrated has a full putted front of pink chiffon, with a ebitten fall across the top with black lace insertion and edging, and a full cravat bow. ORATORY IN LONDON'S HYDE, There is a vast amount of open-air oratory in Hyde park, London, on Sun- day afternoons There are stump ora- tors of almost ovary shade of religious and political opinion. Some make themselves hoarse in denouncing the Poppe. Others vehement against caps italists. Some expatiate upon the wrongs of Ireland, and others upon the rights of labor. Sodelism is champion- ed in one Corner,' and marriage of the deceased wife's sister in another.