HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1896-10-16, Page 22
A TALC; QF THUMSL-`3
Beaob Street was in those days much, ceive out will re.
find out if the gentleman
as it is new, the gnuintest, Whose Inas He entered, and round
himself int ie
agia:aule thoroughfare on the Boast of I company of some score and a halt
Great Briteiu; littered with anchors are sea'inkliri f all de o]mle astiom, wall
a
ail sizes, with huge colla of hemp cable, I woman. Tho a'aom ser unpleasantly
with add fantastic capstans for the full ; the height of dt wee no taller than
winding -up or boats, with tall poles for a small sialles "tween-deoke, and it had
the spreading of 'Hots, lines from win -
us
of the look of a "tween-decks,
with its substantial joists or rafters,
dow to window for the easy drying its small porthole like windows, and
of linen, queer dusky alleys leading at walls resembling bulkheads, A few of
hL t' • L t smuggling black_ the nearer folks stared at blot on his
e ere o t e cone-
beerhouse in friendly jnxtapositlon,with' paioy were on the whole rather too
a perpetual seething and hissing of surf d.drun old-world to scuive m that, forleeed. 1eas
upon the steep shingle, as a regale to utter-
ly vanished qualities of colour, atmos
the ear, and miles of sand plains be pphere, attire, is soaroely imaginable in
yond billowing to Sandwich, and sweet tiieso 'days; =snuffed rushlights Dar -
and musical into lata autumn daytime and o the tall
tables; mechimney-piece ny-
with wild -flowers of fifty different sorts checked. with weather, some wearing
and birds of all kinds. their own hair in tails, some with wigs,
It was now about nine o'clock in the with here a three -cornered hat cooked
evening ; there was no moon, the star- tarraulin ow ehed nose,
rwith
Light made no sheen, and the sea brine,a fathom Doff ribbon down the beak ;
mel in tremorless ebony to its con- most of the people smoking long clay
fines. The few oil lamps in Beach pipes and arguing with drunken ani -
Street threw a feeble gleam upon the motion, with now and again the added
hullabaloo of ono who would set up
shingly road; but how full of people his throat for A song; the women in
Deal was on this particular night, colours which made one think of a
York might have gathered from the crockery shepherdess; and visions of
groups of men showing through every turesrof wrased nlgling ats t the taui bles in
tavern window he passed; &baking, smoke -obscured corners.
en.guing, singing, capercutting, as Jack York took a chair near the door and
called to the drawer for a glass of
will when newly come ashore, amid mo- spirits. Atter a little the landlady
tionless fogs of tobacco -smoke. The came to him And said that she had
first sign his eye caught was that of knocked at Mr. Worksop's door and
the Kentish Sickle. fie entered the asked if he would object to a bedfellow ;
place, and found it crowded with boat- and that his answer was the gentleman
was welcome if so behe would contrive
men and seamen. The landlord, a pur-
ple -faced Haan who had removed his which she understood Mr. Worksop to
wig for air, and yet looked half dead mean that he expected the gentleman
to keep to hlea
s aide of the bed. York
with beat, stood behind a little bar or thanked her, and said be should be glad
counter drawing ale out of a cask, the to, go to rest at once.
tap of which was en a level with his '1 shall be quitting your bouse be-
fore you're up said he, "and will pay
band. York inquired if he could have you for the lied now, if you please."
a bed; the landlord shook his head. As you will, sir," said. she: "it will
with a glance at the tall youth, as beHe shilling."
though be suspected a kind of imper- •'T gave bar the money.
There will be no difficulty," he ex-
though
in such a question in the face claimed, 'in letting myself out in the
of the crowd of people smoking and morning? I do not wish to disturb the
drinking beyond. house by a stiff wrestle with harsh
bolts and difficult looks."
"Can you name me a house in which "That'll be your door, sir," said she,
I'm likely to obtain a. bed for the pointing to the street entrance at the
night?" said York, end of the passage. "Thera is but one
" No," said the purple -fared man, con- bolt, and it shoots easily. We fear
nothing but the foreign invader at
tinuing to draw els into thick glass, Deal, sir. The latch will fall when you
one -legged tumblers, which, as fast as pull the door efts: you."
he filled thein, he pushed to a couple He thanked her, took his bundle, and
of fellows, who carried them to the followed her up -stairs. She knocked at
fables. "It'll be odd if ye gits a bed a little door painted stone -colour, lean-
ing as with age in its frame. A voice
to loie in to -night, mate, in Deal. Whoy, answered, "Come in; in a muffled hur-
it'll be ending Ln the boatmen having ricane note.
nig - tine m'o a rue entrance, and a cough of the women
Hess of atmosphere; be h use after giggled a bit at his
,bau , bu tb
to turn their boats' keel up for lodg- to lie with gent, Mr. Worksop, as is
at which observation a large you," responded the land-
ings:" lady; and then, putting the rushlight
heavy man in a round hat and a great into York's hand, she bid him good -
belt round his waist, fit for the snug- night with a pleasant wish that be
ging of a horse pistol or two, burst would find bis sweetheart happy and
in gay health next morning.
into a loud laugh. The hitch of the door appeared to
York walked out, and entered an- be jammed; York struggled with -it
other tavern hard by. This, too, was for some time, but could not succeed
in liftin it. bleanwhlle he heard Mr.
full, its five bedrooms crammed, the Worksop who was manifestly a sea -
state -bed. of the place to be occupied faring man, calling fromthe bed sev-
by no fewer than four men, to lie eral varieties of sea -blessings upon tbe
heel to heel, whenever it should suit eyes and limbs of h s disturber, until,
losing all patience, he bawled out in
them to withdraw to it; as the per- the tones of a gale of wind: "Put
spicing dried-up little landlord inform- your shoulder to the latch and heave
ed York with a grin of exquisite sat- 11 up! Thunder and blood! ain't it
plain that prising's your only tack?"
istaction.
He tried a third, a fourth ; tramped York did as he was told, and by se
doing lifted the crazy old door off its,
on to the Cat o' Nine Tails alehouse; latch, and entered.
but to no purpose. Had every house with
theceiling
in a little room,
h
had its forty beds to let, they but a very few inches
would not have apparently met the de- above his bead. The apartment was
mind that night for accommodation almost entirely filled by a large, black,
funereal four-poster, undraped, and
from the captains, mates, passengers, furnished with a perfect Atlantic Ocean
sailors who bad come ashore on spe- of blanket, mattress, and coverlet. On
ciaL business, ar who had deserted. or the lett side of this immense bed lay
who had to take the coach next day a man, of whom nothing more was vis -
to London or wherever they might live, ible than a curiously elongated face, as
counting (as passengers) upon clays and though his countenance had been
perhaps weeks of detention it they stretched, lengthening the lineaments
ataek to the craft lying out in the out of all proportion to their breadth.
Downs yonder. Thin odd face was crowned with a large
York had now reached the Sandown red handkerchief, so twisted over the
extremity of Deal; he retraced his steps head as to serve as a nightcap. The
and passing the houses he had visit- clothes of a nautical man of that age
ed, he arrived at much such another lay heaped upon a chair under the
one as they, called the Lonely Star, very little window which gave light
into which he walked. At the end of and ventilation to the room.
a tolerably long narrow passage was "Sorry to break in upon your rest,
an open door, out of which floated Mr. Worksop," exclaimed York; "but
cloths of tobacco -smoke along with the needs must, you know.—But for your
incense of the punch -bowl. A little on kindness, my bed to -night might have
this side the door was a staircase, and been on the cold ground, I fear.—Deal's
nearer yet to the entrance, a recess, amazingly full, certainly."
be which sat a plump woman of fifty, "Very welcome, very " welcome,"
with sloe black eyes and red cheeks growled Mr. Worksop in a somewhat -
an11 treble chins. Over her head hung softened voice, staring over the edge
an old-fashioned lantern, tbe light et of the bedclothes, with small, windy,
which was comfortably reflected in deep-set eyes at the long hair and tall
rows of bottles on shelves behind her figure of the young fellow. "There's
filled with liquors of various dyes. room enough ; only be so good as to
Can 1 have a bed in this house?" bear- a hand ane tumble aboard, for I
asked York of this plump, good -humor- don't feel up to the knocker to -night,
ed woman, who at :his approach let and there's been row enough going on
fall some knitting she was at work down -stairs since I've lain here to make
u a dead man get up and shoulder his
She ran her bright black eyes over coffin for a cruise arter peace.'
him with an expression, as though she York fell to undressing as ' expedi-
found pleasure in the sight of his long tiously as possible.
womanly 'hair and pale handsome face "What's your calling, may I ask'?"
and manliness of stature, and answer- inquired leer. Worksop, rumbling ou•
ed after a minute's thinking: "I'm the question with his mouth half coy -
afraid not, sir. Every bed in the house ered with bedclothes.
is taken. I never remember Deal so A Bailor," was the answer.
full of strangers." "What ship, air?"
"I shall have to return to the ship, "Well, I was secondemate of the
then," he exclaimed, Yet I would Coelia, but sickened at Valparaiso of
rather not. Plying betwixt the Downs soma pestilence there, and was left be-
and the share is costly work to a poor hind. by the master. X was down six
man—at least your boatmen make it months with the malady, and nearly
so. A spare sofa would serve me. I a dead man. Then the captain of the
thieve been ill in South America, and brig Jane offered to carry me home
am not yet well, and durst not lie in on condition of my helping him in the
the open. A pillow and a roof for my navigation of the vessel—I mean, tak-
head would suffice. I must be up by ing observations and keeping the reek -
daybreak, perhaps before. My sweet- oning" and the like ; for he bad lost his
heart's mother, Mrs. Bax, lives t'other chief -mate ; and his second,who was
side of Sandwich, more Minsterway than the ship's carpenter, couldn't read or
that town,—D'ee know her, ma'am?" write, We brought up in. the Downs
By name, sir: a very decant good this evening; and as my sweetheart
lady, I'm sure.' lives within a few hours' walk of this
There's a bed for res there ; but it's PPlace, I came ashore, meaning to start
too tan to reach it on foot to -night, or her home at dawn to -morrow.
Besides, my sweetheart, Jenny, will not Small chance of my disturbing you,
expect me till to -morrow, by noon, or Mr. Worksop; you'll find me cat -like,
thereabouts. Now, what am I to do for and won't know I'm gone till you turn
a bed? There will be other houses of to look."
entertammont in this town besides those "Right you are, sir ; right you are,"
I have visited in this street?" rumbled the other:"there's renin
There's a gentleman," said theland enough here. Wby, boil me alive, Ohl
lady,, after a short spell of thought, but this must have been in a royal.
lying up -stairs who has used my bed of state in its day
house for some years running. 'Tis but I'll blow out this light, said York.
a bit of Groom he's in, sir; but he "But have you a tinder -box handy,
broad enough
rests in a grew big load, Mr. Worksop? I'm without that Ion-
to house a large family. If you would- venienc0—without a good deal that
n't mind shoeing it with him, be'd ac. should bavo Doan mine but for Val-
commodaate you at my request, I don't 'Paraiso. It's well to beaide to atrika
doubt. 'Mint do you say?" alight! ori° never knows what may
" You are very good, ma'am; 'twould happen."
be a godsend I assure you. I could not There's my jacket on that cheer,"
feel more weary had I been tramp- answered Mr. Worksop; "you'll find
inn Deal all day:' whet you want in the lett-hand pock -
Step into the end room, then;' said et."
11
she, "and call for what you will whilst 'Rork Celt, and found the thin g s, p 1ac smapen ton,
THE
SSBLS POST,
4"AU RL C {J 4T U RA L
ed them near the ;meet/get, extinguish'
ed it, and got into bed
They lay talking for while. 31s,
Worksop, It seams, had been boatswain
de lielihai Ilan mraid fo ftinee evnyang
ea
week or two bo£ore; and having been
barna et Deal, had run cloven to spend
a few days at the old epee and to take
a short cruise about the distriet, Ile
was plaisleepy the little lie let fall
that be was a man who had used the
oaetin flu' many years, and had much
that was moving and Interesting to
tell, whenever be should fool dtapoe'
ed to deliver bdmself pf his experionees.
l'reeently he began to wander, then to
snore. 'York lay awake for 501120 time,
listening to 'the hum and roll of the
voices of the drinkers in the room be-
low. There was an oil lamp just out-
side the window, which threw a dim
illumination sufficiently clear to ren-
der faintly visible the outlines of ob-
.sects. The young fellow rested, lost in
thought, evil') his mind going to hie
sweetheart, from whom he had been
parted foliateon months; then to his
Prospects in lire; the offer made him
by the captain of tbe Jane, his, chances
of getting tbe money duo to him from
the owners of the Coelia, and the like;
and then the noises below quieting with
the departure one by one of the re-
vellers, he closed his eyes and was pre-
sently asleep.
Ile was awakened by a sense of suf-
focation and found himself bathed in
perspiration and panting for breath un-
der the weight of the bedclothes. The
boatswain was snoring heavily. A11 was
silent out of doors, saving at intervals
the moan of a gentle gust of wind, like
o long human sigh, running through
the stealthy seething sound of the mid-
night waters pouring upon the shingle.
He sat upright for the relief of the
posture; but whether it was that the
Valparaiso fever was not yet out of
him, or that his condition renderedhim
particularly sensitive to atmospheric
conditions, be found the temperature
of the room insupportable. Indeed.tbe
little compartment was nearly all bed-
stead. The lungs of the boatswain. to
judge by his breathing, seemed to re-
quire the air bf the open ocean to fill
them. These 'was an odour of flue, too,
along with a tepid flavour of bedclothes,
that ems as stifling in its way as the
atmosphere of a bakehouse.
The young fellow 44uietle got out of
bed with the design of opening the win-
dow, but found the 'casement, as the
door had been, a sort of fixture, whose
dislocation must result in the waking
of the whole house. He pined for a
drink of water ; but there was no ju
CHAPTER ON CHEESE-11X1U7ING,
Tall -made oboes° is popularly suppos-
ed to bo the best of the .season, It
really ought to be, and produced under
right oonditlpas it generally is, but the
dairymen has almost us much inile-
ence in moldingits oliaracter as the
maker: As a cheese-apaleer I have el-
ways had a hard time In convincing
dairymen of this, many of whom never'
could be convinced, and consequently
would not mend their faults, writes Geo,
E.Newell, in Ohio Farmer.
There always has been, but I hope
will not always continue to be, a class
of dairymen who profess to believe that
it is n maker's business to produce good,
marketable cheese out et most any kind
01,11111k. This misapprehension comes
from a lack of understanding of right
dairy principles which time will v1 -
E101,6. Under favorable conditions I
have made the finest of cheese in Oc-
tober, and under unfavorable condi-
tions cheese 'not so good. In the first
instance frosts held off late and feed
remained sweet and nutritious. The
skimming craze had not also turned the
heads of my patrons, and they were
able to furnish rich, pure milk.
I have even made very rich, buttery
cheese where skimming, extremely light
night skimming was done. The intik
was not set for rapid cream raisngi,
being aerated before storing in delivery
cans and afterward stirred several
times. Thus perhaps only a third of the
cream would be secured on skimming
in the early morning, a few hours after
setting.: By quality of the cheese I
am convinced that when this was mix-
ed with the whole morning's milk, the
common fluid contained three per cent.
or over of butter -fat. This was virtu-
ally full cream cheese, although the
state full cream brand could not be us-
ed upon it. However, it is just ex-
ceptional cases like this that have led
to the belief that all fall night skims
are equal to summer full creams.
Another drawback to producing first -
or Washing apparatus in tbe room, and olass cheese at this season is that in
it 'vas men' est that gentlemen who
put up at the Lonely Star were to es- every dairy community there will al-
put
• no better convenience than an out- ways be found some who will pasture
their cows till 811021 files. It has been
my experience that the character and
quality of feed always crops out either
in the manufacturing vat or Iater on
in the quality of the cured cheese. Bad
feed wild maize bad milk, bad card and
bad cheese everytime. Frost-bitten
grass, wheu eaten by the cows, pro-
duces thin, poor milli', which in turn
will matte salvey cheese, No trick of
manufacture can overcome this when
due to such a cause, nor can it produce
mellow, rich cheese tram milk con-
taining less than three per cent. of
1 butter -fat.
I heartily wish that there was a ful-
hrLonnely Start was ir shore oto baveea
pump of its own as well as a backyard;
and the fancy of a drink of cold water
coupled with a short spell of breath-
ing the decry night -air worked so ir-
resistibly in the feverish young
man, that he resolved at all
hazards to explore for the re-
lief he panted for. He put be-
fore his fancy a figure of the house
and kept in his mind the bearings of
the staircase and the public room he
had entered. He Could recall that,
whilst seated in that room, he had tak-
en notice of a glass door screened
with red curtains at the extremity pf
it, with a white step between it and
tee floor.
the back -yard, where, though heled
should
not meet with a pump, he was certain
to obtain fresh air.
He partially clothed himself; but, on
trying the door, found he could not lift
the latch with his fingers. He felt in
his pockets, but was without anything
to enable hon to pry open the jammed
and rusty arrangement. The boats-
wain snored heavily in the soundest
sleep. York dreading the fellow's tem-
per should be awaken him, walked
softly to the man's clothes, and, by the
feeble light that shone upon the lit-
tle window, groped in the pockets fort
any contrivance that should serve btm
as a lever. The jacket pockets con-
tained nothing but a tobacco -case, a
pipe, and some papers. He felt to the
lefthand breeches' pocket, and touched
a quantity of pieces of moony, the
weight of which proved' them to be gold,
hhkda hoeaap
knife,
such as sailors carry, with a ring
through the end of the haft for a lan-
iard.
York took lois knife, want to the
door, and succeeded in lilting the latch;
and this done, he stale forth, leaving
the door ajar; then putting the knife to
his pocket, he groped his way down-
stairs all very quietly, as he did not
wish to disturb the house. The street
lamp that had helped him in the bed-
room served him below wherever there
was a seaward -facing window, and he
made his way without difficulty
through the long, low -celled publio
room, reeking and sickening with the
lingering fumes of tobacco and rum
punch; and pulling back the single bolt
of the glass door he had taken notice
of, he found himself in a little back-
yard with, sure enough, the quell= of
a pump in the corner faintly touched
by the starlight.
He drank and bathed his bands and
face, and felt himself greatly refreshed.
There was en inverted tub close to the
pump, upon which he rested himself,
and here he continued to linger for
some time, reluctant to quit the sweet-
ness andfreshness of the cool air that
was breathing direct from the sea for
the oven -like oppressiveness of the lit-
tle bedroom. Maybe he dozed, for he was
suddenly startled by the near drowsy
voice of a watchman calling the hour,
two o'clock. On bearing, this, he arose,
re-entered the house, quietly bolted the
glass door after him and returned to
his bedroom.,
(To be Continued.)
LAMPS AND CANDLESTICKS.
One piano lamp is useful, but to
multiply that and stand them about
as it they had walked out to take
their places in awaltz, or to sae bow
many intruders into a half -darkened
room they could trip up in a day, is
rather too much. Then, their pagoda
tops of monstrous girth deluged the
room with boisterous color and put
everything else out of eountenanee. If
anything, they are more perverse and
ungainly than the corner easel. The
banquet lamp modestly rears its light
at the right place, upon a table or
piano, and maybe clothed in a man-
ner at once simply 'yet dieting=
With a standard of Japanese bronze
or terra cotta, and a delicate shade,
the banquet lamp is beautiful. But
a new horror threatens us; that is a
tall candlestick, generally made of
enameled wood and profusely decor-
atetl in colons, often of the Dresden
style. It Le made to stand either on
the floor or on the tabu..
0
EVERYBODY PENSIONED.,
Denmark allows every subject, male,
or female,,evho is 00 years of ago, a
ler understanding and more mutual ec-
Latlons existing between manufacturer
and milk -producer. It must Dome to
that before Nye can have cheese that
are uniformally good every day in the
week. There isn't one farmer out of
fifty but what has a granary for his
wheat and oats, a bin for his potatoes,
and a crib for his oorn. Let me add
that in a prominent dairy neighborhood
of twenty-four such farmers I found
only one who had a dairy room for his
milk 1 What was more, dairying was
their main dependence, and gram, po-
tato and corn issue only side issues. The
condition of this neighborhood can be
duplicated in scores of instances in our
best dairy sections. It means that
dairymen have a work to do, a work
which they have not yet generality un-
dertaken. The lack of it adds another
to the several: causes that injurejfall
and winter milk quality. Now that
the season has come when dairymen
generally set the night's milk indoors,
it finds no particular abiding place. Per-
haps on the pantry shelves in the
same apartment with victuals, on
shelves in the kitchen, or on an impro-
vised rack in the woodshed, In all of
these places I have found crocks of
milk setting in the fall of the year.
At one place designated "the milk
room,' the pans were ranged on a bench
Ln an apartment used for general stor-
age. Two dead mice were floating in
the cream, which I judged was not an
unusual occurrence by evidence of the
vermin on all sides. At still other farms
dairymen kept their night's milk in the
delivery cans, standing out of doors and
protected from the rain. Provided
they aerated it thoroughly by stirring
or other means this was much the pre-
ferable way, as after such treatment I
invariably found the milk in prime
condition for cheese -making.
I cite these truthful instances to il-
lustrate the disadvantages associated
cheese manufacture labors under during
the autumn months. And be spite of
them all fall cheese is expected to be
better than that produced at any oth-
er time of the years
A great deal of it is better, nand it
might all be better if just a few ob-
stacles were removed from the path.
First, do not skim below three per
cent. of butter fat. To do this the skim-
mer must leave thousands of pounds of
whole milk untouched. Second, have a
proper milk and dairy room just as you
have a proper granary. You put in-
verted tin pans over the posts of the
corn crib to keep out the mice, For
myself, however, I had rather eat
meal ground from Dorn where a mouse
bad tubbed on the cob, than to eat
cheese made from milk in which his
mouseship bad been drowned. Beep
mice out of the dairy room! Also keep
everything else out except the pure air
of heaven. As long as milk is kept on
the farm twlevo hours or more before
taken to the factory, proper means
must be provided to preserve it pure.
Pure wholesome milk only can form the
basis of a first-class cheese quality.
I think every cheese -maker should
know just what each of his patronsis
doing in the way of feed and milk
care. Suggestions of improvement that
he may offer,that put into exeoul:ion
will furnish him with just the quality
of milk that he wants, should he im-
mediately acted 111)0 by dairymen for
their mutual interests. The cheese-
maker of to -day is a, great iml�rova-
meet on what lie was five years ago,
end there has also been great improve-
ment in the vocation during that time.
The adoption of the rennet test stands
foremost among these, as it enables
the maker to do with accuracy wbat
was formerly largely guesswork: It
now remains for dairymen to be more
generally convinced that their highest
interests demand an increased -atten-
tion to the Milk quality fernished' Mc -
tortes. ,
We offer these suggeetiens at a time
when the price of cheese 14 low, and
when a betterment 0f quality will have
a potent influent 1411 making at high-
er, Tho main object, *mover, should
be to start a pulley. that will keep Am-
erican oheese invariably good for years
to coma,
SCOTCH TTIGI'kLAND SHEEP.
In referring to this comparatively lilt.
tie known breed in this country, the
Country Gentieman says:
The sheep are plastie under good
management, and it may bo easily sup-
posed that an experienced ehepberd
might so manage these sheep as to ac-
climate this breed, in time, even to the
very different life on a prairie,
It is essentially a mutton sheep, but
even this is the result of its mountain
life and the nature of the pasture.
Its wool is very coarse rind is used
for carpet msnufaoture. Some of it is
imported into this country, where it
sells at a very low price,
Its mutton, however, is unexcelled in
quality, and is sold.at the highest price?
in the London markets, to which the
fatted sheep, fed on roots on English
farms very often are sent for sale.
The carcass is what we call small,
weighing, 17 or 18 pounds a quarter
when finished at three years old.
Tho young Iambs are considered to ex-
cel all others in the fine flavor and ten-
derness of the meat. Thus, it is a small
sheep, but yet it might meet a demand
for light carcasses here, if it could be
acclimated.
The fleece is coarse, loose and shaggy,
and weighs not far from four pounds
either way for the ewes, and six to sev-
en for rams..
The face and legs are black or mottled
and covered with smooth hair, quite
free from wool.
The nose is prominent and arched,but
not so much as the Cheviot, which most
nearly resembles in figure this sheep,
bat is somewhat larger.
The rams' bores are large and set
low, resembling those of the Merino,
making one or two sphrals, as the age
may be.
The ewes' horns are small, short,thin
flattened, and not spiral, but only half
bent forwards and downwards.
The back is broad all the way from
the shoulder to the rump, and the tail
is naturally short and is never docked.
It is not uncommon for the tails to
be free of wool, or, as it is termed iby
the shepherds, whip -tallied.
These sheep are exceedingly active, as
might, be supposed from their moun-
tain elle; but how they might succeed
in our warm climate and on an ordin-
ary pasture and under close control, is
a matter for experiment, which must be
said to be a very uncertain affair.
We have never seen eo`r -beard of a
cross between these sheep and the Mer-
ino; and to judge from experience in
the crossing of such entirely different
breeds, the result of such a cross is a
mere matter of guesswork.
AN INVOLUNTARY HERO.
Two Pieces or !lot Ilam Won an Ulncer'e
Promotion.
A Polish officer, now dead, used to
tall with much zest the story of his
promotion from the ranks. He was a
private of cavalry when Ohlopicki's re-
treat began. The troops , had made a
weary night march, and were in bi-
vouac for breakfast when scouts
brought word • tbat they were almost
surrounded by a Russian force. In-
stantly the Poles hurried to their
saddles, mounted and sought a way of
escape.
The young cavalryman had been boil-
ing some pieces of ham for himself in
a camp kettle. Anxious to "save his
bacon," he dumped the half -boiled meat
into his saddle bags and joined his com-
panions. Two minutes later his horse
became restive, at a most inopportune
moment, for on surmounting a ridge the
Poles had found themselves confronted
by a Russian force of infantry.
There was but one thing to ba done,
The Russian line must be broken
through at once. It was being rapidly
re -enforced. If the Poles should fail
ttoheout their way outset the first charge
Y
MUST 1310 ALL CAPTURED.
On they rushed at the order to
charge, and now our young trooper's
horse had become fairly frantic and
quite uncontrollable. He sprang away
fax in advance of the charging line.
The rider, ,determining tomake the best
fight he could, swung his saber, took
a stronger grip with his knees and gaz-
ed hard at the face of the Russian heex-
pected to be launched against.
Just then a volley hurled into the
charging line, but the foremost horse
and rider escaped unharmed. A fele
moments and they. were upon the en-
emy. Usually a horse refuses to leap
at bayonets, but this one jumpedfuri-
ouslyat the kneeling front rank, and
such .was the momentum and fury of
the beast that the Russians just le
his front lost their move, broke and
gave
Through
entrance.
Poles sprang a n%ment thus
aterndStrikiing
right and left, they widened the
breach, and in tan seconds, the Russian
infantry was demoralized. The Poles
escaped with slight loss, and it was
not long before thou' young leader
quieted his steed, dismounted and found
in chance to examine hie half -cooled
hAA feNv hours later the Polish General
of cavalry rode up to the Captain of the
troop that had so distinguished itself,
complimented him and said: By the
way, Captain, who was that
SPLENDID -YOUNG OFFICER
that led you all in?"
''He wasp t an officer; that was
only one 111 any boys."
"Not an officer! May the bullets
strike me if I don't make him onel Call,
him out here at once."
The General shook hands with the
hisyouthsta, promoted him to a )ieutenantcy
then and there and gave him a place on
ff.
Some days later a hen the Captaia.
called at headquarters, he sought out:
the new lieutenant, whom he found
dolefully, contemplating his unsaddled
horse, which hada huge raw sore on
each side.
"What on earth is the matter with
your .horse?" asked the Captain.
Oh, nothing much!"
"But what made theca terrible sores"?
"The same thing that matte nee a
Lieutenant;" said the hero. "A big
chunk of hot ham in each saddle bag;
but, for the love of the saints, don't
tell the General or the boys."
THE WINNER.
Say, Glldy, who won, the ball game?
De empire.
Orr, 1,1 e
THE VERT RIOHEST USER
N0 1 N0WINQ HOW MUCH TillS
.ARAN IS W(»lTI;,
Asahel non, a 1tesidont of 9itllliili tau„ a.
int., Y,, ,412-09 14112 IF Itease '5112001i
Worth leheusands-.,1118111 by ii t lrl
SAM to' 1110 t1/o !'1111112 01' HIS lertee
Uortnli L11'e,
In bitter legal contention with hie
own brother, hatingall mankind, and
more especially all womankind, old Asa -
bel Bell, with the full weight afoul,
Wore years upon his stooping shoulders,
is still a familiar figure in and about
.Pishkill Landing, N.Y. Generations have
come. and gone, men and manners and
the very physical aspect of the coun-
try itself have changed, bat the old Asa-
hel, in his blue overalls, itis jumper, his
telt-topped rubber boots, his old
slouched hat, the battered valise that
never leaves him and looks like astage
property game bag for Rip Van Winkle
after the twenty years' sleep—all this
is as it was decades anddecadesago,
when men who have grown to middle
age and have passed from the scene
were boys and guyed the surly miser,
as the boys even at his day guy him as
he goes his desolate way down to the
grave that noweeannot be very far
ahead of him.
THE RICHEST MISER.
Old Asahel is probably the richest,
absolute miser and semi -hermit in Now
York State, if not in the whole United
States. There is no knowing how
much Ile is worth in stocks and bonds,
mortgages and money, but his real es-
tate alone, in beautiful farms, scattered
here and there in the neighboring coun-
ties, is estimated at far beyond $100,000.
There really is nothing lacking to com-
plete the picture of the miser and re-
cluse which this unhappy man repre-
sents.
Unshaven and unshorn, dirty, un-
kempt, feeding on stale meat refuse
begged from butchers, sleeping now in
a hole in the rocks, dignified by the
name of "a cave," and now on the
floor within the four bare walls of what
w as once the palatial country house of
a !Prosperous New 'Yorker, who, in a
moment of necessity, let himself into
Asahel's relentless money -lending grip,
hating everybody and unloved by every-
body—everything is there which goes to
make up the typical miser of the stage
and the story books.
Not even the romance, the blighted
love story, is eventing. For Asahel has
a romance. His early manhood love was
blighted. Maybe that is why he turn-
ed curmudgeon, and maybe it isn't. But
the love story is used to explain hien,
and here it is. It dates book sixty years,
w hen Asahel •Ivas a young man of
twenty.
THE WOMAN IN THE CASE.
"Asahel ileal, ' said a resident who
knows his history well. "was born in
Dutchess County, and up to his twen-
tieth year was all that could be expect-
ed of a farmer boy. He worked on
his father's farm. saved the pennies,
aaoumulatcd the dollars, and finally
bought and furnished a small house.
with one hundred sores of fine land at-
taceed.
Then it leaked out among the farm -
ars that Asahel had been courting Miss
Jennie Brown, of Cold Spring, a
farmer's daughter, with black eyes and
dimples, who had been through' many
love conquests and dame out unscathed,
until she finally succumbedto the sub-
stantial attractions of Asahel. The
wedding day was set, the county paper
announced it, and Asahel bought the
best suit of clothes in Dutchess Coun-
ty for his outfit, and the best and most
expensive ring he could find in all
Fishkill for his bride. He even went so
far as to invite the boys down to the
tavern to celebrate the coming event,
and for the first and last time in his
life. spent money freely,
ASAHEL'S BILLET DOU.X.
"A 'week before the day set far the
wedding the old mail coach came lum-
bering over the Cold Spring Turnpike
and halted before the tavern and post -
office at Fishkill Village, where Asahel
Dell sat in silent joy anticipating a
message from his betrothed. He got it.
It was not a letter; it was a small
square package. He winked at the
boys as he pocketed it, and then ho
went home to enjoy the opening of it
all by himself. 11 was not cheerful what
he found. It was the costly betrothal
ring returned to tum and with it a short
note saying that Jennie had tired of
farm life and had eloped to New York
with a man who dressed much better
than Asahel, and beat him in jewelry.
'Besides, she explained, he promised
her an easy living in the metropolis,
fine clothes end nothing to do.
"Like many other good-looking girls
she prospered for a e'hile;then she was
deserted—the old story, except that
Jennie was lucky enough to find a grave
in hes native town instead of in Potter's
Field.
From that moment Leah -4 seamed to
loathe mankind. He tied man up in
mortgages, and no fiend was more mer-
ciless than he when the law gave hon
a twist on his victims; Farmer after
farmer pawed through his relentless
hands to ruin. Up on the side of Mount
Beacon he found tie hole in the rooks
which with all his houses and farms,
he prefers as a home. His greed for
money grows with his increasing weight
of years, as apparently does his hatred
of men and women, particularly young
men cad women. Nothing seams to ex-
asperate him more than the sight of a
yotmg couple who suggest possible mat-
rimony. This is a speotacle which never
fails to make •the old man's dim eyes
fairly gleam with rage,
THE MINISTER'S COMPLIMENT.
On Sunday, as a certain Scottish =M-
ister was returning homewards, he was
accosted by an old Woman, who said:
Oh, sir, well do •I like the day when
you preach.
The minister was aware that he was -
not very popular, end answered:
My good woman, I am glad to hear
it. there are too Low like you. And,
why do you like it when I preach?
Oh, sir, she replied; when you preach "
I always get a good seat!
According to London Truth, the
Queen's physical condition is' such that
she never stands on her feet for two
minutes at a time. She is wheeled
from room to room, and at all coma
and other functions Sits constantly in.
a low their. , ,