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The Exeter Advocate, 1890-8-14, Page 2M, Compilelams. Jaime evuerooma maga', I'd ruther ley out Lore amoog the trees, With the etealue bhds and the bum"' POS, dadnamiving tliat .t vim do as1 Please, Than to live 'Ow; fears cell a lite of ease, Up thee in the eity. Fer reany acenc Meetly understate 'Wile ere the eact nfeis ter any man eu valkin aot terieke antwin' a fan, An' enjoybe himself as he says he eau, Up elmi: in the city, It's Isinder, lenctoino, mews° you'll sae, A-livize out here day atter day In this kinder eery, careless we.y e But EL hour out here is betterat a user Up that' n t)i) city. As for time, jud look at the flowers aroune tho mew a-boudia' the trace 'way down. You cadet end emit things as these m town, Or, ruther, lu the chy. Ae seed afore, such things as these, The 11 mere, ithe oirds, au' the bume bees, An' adivin' oat IlL)VO al.Y.LQIIg the trees atelier° you cm mire your ease an' do aa you Moen,. makes lattorm the city. Now, alt the oat tion't 'mount to snuff, 'Bout tele Minna life a -beim rough, AM Dal $11):0 leo plenty good enough, An', 't\Y(301.1 yol me me, 'meat beat as tougb As Mein la the city, Looking Bach. Looking beck Lim me bygone, there we see deep hoods or edema And the host,, *V guiliy wretches that had long defied ,wave ; There we see eteenfaced injustice drinking huinau Meal eke wine ; But there is e ray ot comfort—love the present man may wave. Save from riveery and hatred, save from greed that heti). no bound.l From corruetion sem injustice, in each dealing, naan with man! To co-operarive accord, like the hosts beneath Him crowned— Then will be the true millennium, based on the Redeemer's plan, J. It, aitaISTRONQ, ADOPTED BY THE DAN: A TALE OF TWO COUISTRIES. for the otioasiori, and where many of the guests wee already aseenabled. Lady Werthington wee at the door and came into the hell to meet them etoopiug doWa to him Esperence in dellence a custon1. You kieve ootne in the ohareaster a the Chrietmas rose," elm said, glancing at the happy, glo wing few, you will be just in time for the firt3t date° ; O1aue wilt talie yon in to aim, Meetleles." Clatide amented, and led her across the brightly-liglated room to the mfa where Mrs. hlortlake and Cornelia were mated, aria Esperanoe began to tell of the eurprise that bad ewaited her in the eohooleremn, and to show the flowers exultiegly, Cornelia availed kindly. " She wee disappointed of the ilo were at home, but these are far lovelier," heaid to Claude, while Mrs. Mortlake began abruptly to epee& to her next neighbor. He made some trifling response, and than turned eagerly to Esperance, fearfal that some one else might be bore him in asking her to dance. Coreelie wetched her in oecret admiration as she was borne swiftly away, her pure, ohild-like happiness was deliehtful to see ; as they passed the sofa eve y few minutes she caught a few words ,1 French, and knew that Claude was te. leg to her in herr' vn language, and onoe, ea they paused for a minute's rest Esperamer came to her, eager for sympathy. It is So delightfnl, Cornelia, and is not this Blue Danube waltz a capital one ? " Cornelia could not understand the de- lights of a troistemps ; she had never oared for dancing or any kind of exercise, but she being oppealed to in this way, watched her little 0011eill with a certain comfortable sense of pride and possessioa. This child whom she had nursed and tended was beginning to melee large demands upon her love. Claude meantime was perfectly happy, his diffidence soon vanished under the in- fluence of Espersoaco's naive remarks and free eimplioity, arid very eoon they drifted into their former habits of easy, half-oon- dential telk, though Claude was more reverential and less pitying than he had been in old times. He would have liked to prolong their dance indefinitely, bat Esperanoe had not come simply to enjoy herself, and he was obliged to ,resign her to Fred, who came up with snob an entreaty that he meld not be resisted everyone was so stupid, they would not dance with him, and would Esperanoe have him just this onoe ? 01 course she consented, and when Fred, proud and happy, had brought her back to Cornelia, she was at once pursued by Harry who would not be content till he had written his name in unsteady, round -hand on her programme. She danced with Claude, however, several times, only refusing him once when she wanted to sit out with Cornelia, who was having a rather dull time. Claude divined her motive, and loved her all the better for it, even accepting the hint she gave him to dance with Bertha, though it took him away from her te a most indifferent set of quadrilles in which every one danced languidly. He was rewarded, however, later in the evening, by another waltz with her; as they were walking up and down the hall after it was over he etopped for a moment before "Mariana." " I want you to look at this for a moment," he said; " it ia one of my pictures." She looked up eagerly. " A new one of yours I had not eaen it —why, she is just like Gaspard I that is exactly how he looked alter the capit- ulation." Claude was much amused, and would not perhaps have explained f arther had she not put a direot question. "Did you get the idea from Gaspard ? " •" No," he replied, anailices. " Yoar brother saw the picture when it was done, and I made my confession to him then. It was your face which inspired me." " Minet how very funny " cried Esper• ance, with her irresistible laugh. "Do you mean that this is really meant for me, and that I have been in the Academy with- out knowing it 2 Ali 1 that is amusing ! that is ridiculous ! " " I am afraid it was a great liberty," said Claude, "but I could not resist the temptation; Derhaps some day you will really give me a sitting; I should not paint 700 39' Mariana' now." " Why not," asked Esperanoe; "because I have lost my hair? " " No," said Claude, hesitating a little, " because you have not • Mariana's ' expression now. • Mariana ' never grew bright, and patient, and hopeful; she must have grown bitter in her loneliness instead of sweet." He paused, half afraid he had said too much; but Esperance was not thinking of herself. She was looking at the picture. " How dreary you have made the fen look; I like thet dull, watery reflection of the moonlight, and the torn curtain, and that wormmaten window frame—ab! it is wonderfally done 1 how sad she looks, too, so weary and so dieappointed." Then, with a sudden smile, " Surely I never looked so despairing? " "You used to look very miserable," said Claude. " Ah 1 and I was miserable; that was just the time when I was most homesick and unhappy; how I did hate Rilottester ! " "You do not dislike it now, then? " "No,I believe I am really growing fond of it," e answered, smiling. Just then Chriatabel appeared. "You. are very imprudent to stand in that draught, Esperanoe," she said, coldly. "Would you have liked your shawl? ' asked Claude. Pray let me fetch it." 011APTER XXIX. Bertha ano Esperance were in their room dreeelli For Lady Worthington's dance; they were 'both of them quiet and a little depreeedd, for Bertha naturally thought of Ilre ball in the summer, when George had been staying with them and all had b :en so different, and Esperanoe had her own troubles. it had been a harassing day. Ddrs. Mortlake was in bad humor, and Belle, wao eaffering from the effects of her tieristmes dissipation, and was more than ordinarily peevish; then, too, she had Men hindered writing to Gaepard, and had missed the mail, and, though, as Mrs. Mortiake heci reminded her, the letter coma go the next day via Brindiai, yet the weekly postage told so heavily on her purse that this was an expense she did not at all care to Mama The unintetrupted quiet of the room was at last broken by a knock at the door, and Cornelia entered in her blaok velvet, carry- ing some sprigs of holly. "1 am so mixed," she said, putting down her prickly burden on the dressing -table. "1 wanted you to have one of those white camellias in the conservatory, Esper- ance, but Clazistabel has taken them both, and declares that they are the only things she cen wear." E perence was a little disappointed; she hao ,at her heart on one of the camellias, but she vette too grateful to Cornelia for thi eking of it at all, not to make light of the matter. They did what they could with the holly !whim, but even Eeperance's clever fingers come not effect much with them, they woum look stiff and uncompromising. The ivy, am, wag large -leaved and ugly, and altoeether, the decorations were unsuccess- ful, Melt was the more provoking because she wta entirely dependent on them, having no j swelry. lier vexation was but momentary, how- ever; she soon forgot it in helping Bertha, and she arranged the white camellias in Mrs. Afortlake's hair without the least tinge of envy. Then they all started, and her spirits rose high with the prospect of this novelty and excitement ; she chattered uninter- ruptedly through the two miles' drive, till even Bertha was a little roused and began to take some slight interest in what was going on. There was no one in the cloak -room when they art iveet, and Esperance had jest teken off her wraps when Frances' little maid appeared—" Mise Neville would be very glad if Mademoiselle de Mrsbillon would come into the school -morn for a moment." "To say good -night to the children, I !suppose; you will not wait for me, Cor - halal I can come down with Frances." Cornelia nodded assent, and Esperance followed the maid to the school -room; but none of the children were there, only Frances and Claude Maguey, bending over a most lovely basketful of ferns and flowers. " I am so glad you have come early," Francies said, kissing her. " Mr. Magnay has been spoiling ris alt; he walked over to the nursery gardens time morning, and brought home the moat beautiful flowers, and wa went yen to wear some of them." Claude was glad to have it put in this way, for having spent the morning in scouring Rilohester in search of these flowers for Esperance, he now hardly liked to offer them. Her delighted gratitude was very charm- ing ; and Claude colored deeply, as, for a moment, her beautiful eyes met his. "How kind of you! and how lovely they are 1" she exclaimed, rapturously, " you osn't think how much I wanted a flower— belly is so prickly." Frances began to take the flowers from the beieket, and Eaperance straggled to take off her epriga of holly, but could not manage it with her gloves on. Claude was delighted at this excuse for helping her, and took away the sharp leaves and ecarlet berries with unmixed satisfaction. "You must enact Monsieur Worth, Claude," said Frances, looking up. "Now, Esperance, stand still, and we shall hear exactly where your &were are to be placed." She obeyed half laughingly, and Claude Surveyed her in silence, thinking but little • of the flowers it must be confessed. She had never looked prettier than at that moment, standing iu her unadorned white dram, her lips just perted, her eyes smiling half shyly, her 011108118 glowing with rich brown -red cutler, and the outline of her lamely little head not at all veiled by the abort, tendril -like curls which clustered • round her neolt, and overshadowed her low, smooth forehead. Claude Wag recalled to hie duties by he clear, ringing laugh. "It is as bad as having one's photograph taken," she aid. "1 an sure Monaieur Worth does not keep his ladies se long." '"The oracle la thumb," said Claude, arailihg. "Shall we try the effect of Christman roses and maiden hair, Bliss ? So the dress WW1 beautified with the requisite white flowers!, and drooping lady - fano, and light, feethery maiden -hair ; bet 40 tfoneieur Worth" heid stipulated that 'the eerie should be left ae they Wete, M • their unadorned beauty. Then they went down Stain to the great draWing-roem, which had boon turned out Claude went hack to town, and worked hard at hie Vitiating, but awing to the short winter days raw% of hie tittle was necessarily unooeupied, and his thoughts were constantly reverting to Reverence. He took a fanoy for gong to the af ternoon service in the alibey, that he might be hearing aetually what he was bearing; he took the " Guardian " and searched the columns anxiously for any. thing relating Rilohester. The very llama of Dean Collineon was auffeeient to set all hie pulses throbbing, end he took the most lively interest in all the special preachers mentioned —Men whom ESperaD00 had mon, perhaps shaken hands with. Seorificitte for this purpose even the afternoon light, he eterted early in hope of finding Lady Worthington disengaged, and before 3 o'olook was ehown upstairs to her drawing -room. He stood in one of the windows and looked out on Kensington Gardens, abstractedly watching the pro. oession of nurse -maids and children, mad the bright sunlight flickering through the fresh green ot the trees on the brown patha below. Then Lady Worthington name in with her hearty greeting, and he was roneed from his reverie. "1 was wondering what had become of you, Claude, you have not been here for weeks, and I actually heard of your imooesses in the Academy from some one else." "1 should have come before, but t truth is I have been out lately; I have a good deal on hand," said Claude, rather hesitatingly. "And that is the reason you are detain- ing so many invitationa ? Two or three people have been quite distressed, I know, by your refusal. You are a 'lion' now, you eee, and a lion should be gracious. I think. Yon must be working too hard." I know I deserve a soolding," said Claude; "but I have not been in humor for gayeties ; it is not that I am doing too mach—I can't plead that for an exonse, but—" "But yon are getting 'blase' at fouls and. twenty, is that it ?" Claude did not answer for a moment. He moved restlessly, deliberating whether he should tell Lady Worthington or not, then looking up suddenly and turning his eager eyes fully on her, he said, abruptly, "The fact is, Lady Worthington, that visit to you at Christmas quite unhinged me— it was a revelation to me, and now I am wild to get to Rilohester once more. Yon know what I mean 2 " "I think I do," said Lady Worthington, kindly, " and I am very glad, Claude." "You think, then, there is really some hope for me?" "I do not see why there should not be," raid Lady Worthington; "but you will not do anything in a hurry. If you will let me give you a little piece of advice, I should say write to her brother before you breathe a word to her about it, for I know the French are very particular about such "1 thought I could speak to the dean; but the worst of it ie, I don't think it will be any use, she would only be startled and repulsed. I must see her again. It only I had the faintest shadow of an excuse for going to Rilohester I would start to -morrow, but there is none; and she will forget me, or some one else will—" "Come," said Lady Worthington, smil- ing, "1 don't think yon need make yourself miserable about that. I suppose if I were prudent I should tell you to wait till next Christmas, and then to come down to Worthington and eee if you were in the eame mind." "1 have waited all these months already," said Claude, pleadingly; "and you Zona know what it is to think of her in the wretched place, among people who don't care for her." "She is fast making them care for her,' said Lady Worthington; "bat for all that I can understand that it is hard for yon. Suppose I am imprudent, and ask 30U to go down to Rilohester at once, and paint me a very beautiful picture in the cathedral. think I ,should like it to be in the south aisle." "You are too good," said Claude, earn- estly; "but I ought not to have everything made easy for me." "No, seriously, I should like the pionare ; I commission yon now, Mr. Megnay, if it is not treepeasing too much on your valua- ble time. Shall 1 stipalate how many feet of °armee you are to cover, like that inter - eating manufacturer we heard of the other, day, who ordered pictures by the yard 2 " Claude laughed and reiterated his thanks and Lady Worthington spoke more seri- °1:1'I 8IY. "do wish you all possible success," she said, earnestly. "1 shall wait very anxiously to hear of the result, and you will come and see me when you return." Claude promieed to do so, and met at that moment some visitora arrived, and he hastily took leave. To have an excuse for a fortnight's vieit to Rilohester seemed to him the greetest bliss. He longed to start that very moment, but a perverse engagement on the next after- noon prevented thie, and he could not possibly reach Rilohester before the last train; but he should see her in two dap' time, and with this he might be well be content. " We are going, thank you," said Mrs. Mortlake; "so do not tronble ; only people who are always complaining of the cold should Ilse common mese in—." Her words were checked by Sir Henry Worthington, who suddenly emerged from the door of the billiard -room. " Why, Mrs. Mortlake, yon are leaving us very early." She was at once all smiles and courtesy. Ciande hated her, and gnawed the ends of his moustaohe fiercely, till Esperanoe's voice recalled him from his angry thoughts. " I think it is wonderful,' she said, taking a farewell look at " Mariana." " I am so glad you told me all about it. Are you painting anything while you are here ?" " ; I go back to town to -morrow," said Claude)rather wistfully; " this has only been afew dap!' holiday. Will you really keep your promise some time, and give me a sitting? " " Yes, indeed ; but v.ihat will you paint me " Aa an angel, I think," said Claude, gravely. She leughed uncontrollably, and was so much amused by the idea that ehe would talk of nothing else While be wan helping her with her cloak ; but just as they were passing through the hall again on their way to the carriage, she half rained her scarf and showed him the Christmas roses. "Your flowers are quite fresh still," ehe said glaneing up at him half shyly. And Claude was more thrilled by those werds, than by all her former thank!, " Yotir flowere ''—she called them hie and wore them. Her hand he in his for a moment is he helped her into the carriage with elaborate care, then the footman closed the door 'with vicious epeed, find the coachman urged on the home. CHAPTER XXX. The arrival of the post -bag at the deanery was a mum of mingled pleasure and vexation; the dean always dieliked letters, and Cornelia thought them tire- some though neeessery evils ; but the other members of the family regaried them in a very different way, and were apt to gram. ble if Cornelia was late in bringing the key, and dispensing them to their owners. It yeas Monday afternoon, and Eeperance was waiting impatiently in the drawing. room expecting the arrival of the post with her weekly letters from Gaspard ; she was reading aloud to Bertha, not very well it must be confeased, for her eyes and ears were alive to the slighest sign that might indicate the arrival of her letter, and when Cornelia at last entered the room, ehe sprung forward, waiting with eager im- patience while the bag was opened. There were only two letters, one from Ceylon, which Esperanoe seized eagerly, and another for Bartlett. It is from one of the Palgraves, I think," said Cornelia, glowing at the even - lope; Bertha took it, coloring deeply. "Yea, from Adelaide," she said in a low was in Rilcheeter at that very moment, and that evening she might—she must, see hint. A Wdil all decided in a moment ; she dared not •stop to think; she disregarded all the arguments againet snob a Ace, while a train qt arguments in favorn it paesed rapidly through her brain ; she Wag of age, she had a right to rule her own ecticine ; George wail her cousin; why should Ate not opealt to hire for a few omenta? If it was in a seoret way, that was only beeeuse he had been forbidden to come to the hottee —it was her tether's fault not here. The idea having been once admitted, he began, to feel that life would be intolerable without just thie ono meeting, and remembered with terror her etartled exclamation on opening, the letter. Had Esperance noticed it She glanced aorose the roona and felt relieved, for Eeperanoe was smiling over her own letter in happy uncousoioustese, looking so •bright and inneeent that Bertha felt a sharp sting of remorse, as she contrasted that happiness with her excited, halLterrified pleasure. While she was still musing Esperanoe looked up. Such a long letter, Bertha and do you know, Gespardes salary is to be raised!" Bertha murnathed something like a con. gratulation, and left the room abruptly, avoiding Esperanoe for the rest of tbe afternoon, for fear she might allude to that exclamation which she might have heard. Never had the hours teemed tio long as 'lfthat day. Bertha was minerably restless and frightened, but she did not waver. Soon after nine in the evening she exoneed herself on the plea of having some copying to do, and stole away to the dining -room, wishing that she had not been so consoious that she was doing wrong. She lighted a candle, shut the door, and for a few minutes made some pretence of writing; then she softly drew aside the shutters, opened the French window and looked into the dusky garden. The night was fine, but cold. She shivered a little an the freah breeze played upon her burning aheeks ; a cathedral clock chimed a quarter past nine, and she started with a midden fright, and then recovering herself trembled to think that she was guiltily afraid of being discovered. For a moment she hesitated— her hand was raised to close the window. Should she not, even now, give up this stolen pleasure? But while she paused a dark figure stole silently across the lawn; it was too late 1 The next moment her 'hand was clasped in hermonsinhe and the power of willing anything seemed to have passed from her. In the drawing -room the dean had fallen asleep over his paver. Cornelia read a volume of the "Bridge- water Treaties," and Mrs. Mortlake talked emtppishly to Esperanoe. It was very dull; Esperenoe caught herself yawning repeat- edly, and was not sorry when her cousin was roused to an expression of annoyance. "Really, if you're so sleepy, you had better go to bed; perhaps it would wake you up to go to the dining -room and fetch me my book of knitting receipta." Esperance gladly hailed the opportunity of escaping from the hot drawing -room, andwalked leisurely across the hall, in- dulging in fantastic) arm exercises on the way to relieve herself; then she opened the dining -room door'and a little ory of aeton- islament escaped her as she saw Bertha in her white dress standing by the open window. Bertha herself started violently, and hastily movelbecle into the room. "Ob, you are doing the copying," said Esperance, recollecting; but Bertha, in her fright fancied that she spoke satirically. She resolved to brave it out, howeVer. "Yee, I am very buoy; do you want any. thing 2" 'only Chriatabel's knitting -book," said reepe ce, and she make haste tlind the m hook a d leave the room, ei g that Bertha did not wish to be interrupted. (To be Continued) voioe. Cornelia did not reply, but looked the bag again, and left the room, while Bertha nervously opened her letter; ehe gave an astonished exclamation when, on unfolding it, it proved not to be from Adelaide at all but frora George. She trembled violently— ought she to read is? The temptation was too sarong for her, however; ehe moved further from her couein, and with her heart throbbing wildly read the few hurried lines. George Wag • coming to Rileheater, but no one DMA know of ib;, he begged to see her once for a few moments, and pro. posed that they should meet in the garden that eVening.ets soon ail it was dusk. It was a ahort, airtughtforward letter without the least approach to sentiment, and Bretha Could not retitle° that the interview opoken of in ouch a bunineao•like way wan a, destine meeting, or if the thought ala 0000r to her she stifled it at once. George The Dance of Death. The busy menu of guilty, crowded citiea ; the rush and moil and care of business; the gaiety and fascination of what men call pleasure; the lust of the flesh, the last of the eyes and the pride of life ; the glamor of wealth, the fury of ambition, the gratified egotism of !mouse —this is what men oall " life." Scripture scattere over it all the dust and ashes of the oharnelehouse. All this pageantry of i power, and of men absorbed n their own selfishness, and madly bent on their own utter and not distant destruction—alas 1 to the eye of angels there is no glamor about it, and they see often in it but the glistening eepulohre, fall of dead men's bones and all uncleanness. The young roan, full of conceit, bent on the lawless gratification of his own desires, goee as an ox to the slaughter, an a fool to the oorreotion of the stocks. He sits at the lighted banquet of the prodigal; he sees there the " flnehed guests and golden goblets foamed with wine," and he cells this " seeing life." It is not seeing life ; it is feeding on ashes. It is not life ; it is death ; death in its ollownees ' • death in its anguish of retribu- tion ; deathin its initiation; death in its haws ; the death of the body in its pollu- tion and corruption • the death of the soul in its paralysis and Aupefaction ; the death of the spirit in its extinction and oblitera- tion. Tear off the painted masks; show him the white disease beneath. Alas ! he knoweth not that the dead are there, and that her guests—and he among them, himself dead also—are in the depth of hell. —ArchdeaconFarrar. HOW MILK 18 MADB, A Proeess Whiohls of Iuterest to Others Tim the Farmer. (From au addrese by Prof. Jas. W. Robertson at woonvontion of dairymen ttt BollevilIo, one) After the very amesins addrese to which you have just listened, filled with sparkling bona of literary value as well as scieneilia instructioa, I find it rather hard to know what to say, because after having your " palate tioltied with sweet honey, I don't think you will relialt a big draught of skim rale. 'Tho progthainfe toms the meeting it to be ou milk and honey. After a little pleasantry regarding the queer ways .of bees, the speaker said :• I am delighted to have a john Meeting of the Beekeepers' Association and the Dah•wneen's A000eite- tion, because we have muchisa oonimon for the' good of our country. When in London in 1886, on behalf of the Governnaent, I found no department attraot Bo much Attention, provoke so general interest and advertise the country so well as the dis- play of honey. A.t the same time I recognized that in our line our main netural advantages arose from the fertile soil and abundance of sunshine. 'Mese two facts give me hope that this Provinoe and Dominion will be among the most thickly populated and influential of the strongest nations. Sunshine we can boast of most. We CHU beat England all hollow in that respect. We 'therefore oan have better produots. The plants that feed the diary animals need the active work of the bees. They do some of the chores for dairymen. The more we help beekeepers to keep the bees the more milk we will get. If a man reoognizes the holiness Of labor for the good of the whole race, the more he enjoys his work. He becomes a ,better citizen. I am to look after the dairyman and talk on " How a cow makes milk." A young man at a meeting in Lucian was asked to read a paper—an addreas on, "rtsieixig a calf ana keeping a bee." He dilated eo long on the first part of hie sub. ject that an old Seotchrnan rose up and klaid, " GadoLord, mon, gie us some honey or sit doon." • (Laughter.) All the milk of cows is madmin a most mysterious way. The elaboration is effected in two • glands called the udder. These two glande he together lengthwise of the cow's body. Yon can take one gland from the other without rupturing the remaining' one ; there is no organic or distinct division be- tween the two quarters of each gland. The milk in the gland is elaborated from the blood, a physiological process imperfectly understood. If that be ao, and aoubtless it is so, it beoomes neoessary for every dairyman to so treat, feed, water and shelter his cove that she will have whole- some, vigorous blood coursing in her veins, If the nervous system be deranged, then the milk pertaius to a low quality. The blood from which the milk is formed enters the glands by two large arteries. Along- side the arteries ;tins a large vein and nervous cord. Numerous ducts 'rise !torn the milk cisterns at the top or the teats; they spread throtigh the whole etracture of the udder. A small portion of the blood exudes or percolates throngh the membrane that linesahese ducts and becomes milk. Be. ginning froth the bottom of the teat, there is an opening which stays closed without any effort on the pert ot the animal, there. I ore the milk does not teak. If thie ronsole relaxes the milk will drop mit. At the top of the teat there is another valve over which the cow exercises some control. She can close it and hold the milk above that valve; then a man" may tug all he likes and get nothing while the cow holds up her milk. When the cow has this valve closed it is mainly owing to undue excitement. When the cow is much excited the lack of nervous equilibrium will make her close this valve and ehut off the milk flow. Sometimes if the cows and the dog try races for home, when the cow is beaten by the dog she becomes excited and holds up her milk. There are a great many tiny cells on the inside of the ultimate follicles of the milk ducts. They are no small that if you measure a row of them not one inch in length you will find 3,000 or 5,000 of them. They each grow a bud; that had grows larger and larger until it becomes a globule, and these globules constitute the fat of the milk. These tiny globules drop and triolde down inside these milk tubes and come down with the rest of the milk. The last milk is richer than the first. Some men consider it to be an honest transaction to give the faotorymen the first fruits of the cow and to keep the last quart Inc the coffee. The law of last session is, a person found guilty of any of these tricks, adding water, removing oream, holding back strippings, sending in impure milk, shall be liable to a severe pen- alty. I would like to see that law made imperative for the punishment of a few areat sinners that the rest might be kept righteous. It is within the province of the Dominion Dairymen's Association, of vvhioh a convention is to be held, to look after these sinners for the good of the land. I think I'll say something on that point; I shall help to make that law go right down on the deeds of thefew for the good of the rest who make honest milk. These fat globules are represented here on this chart. There are ordinarily about 1,000,000,000 of these globules in a cubic inch of milk. 1 drop the remark that there is nothing made irl vain in this world. There is no man made in vain in this world; every man has his little or big job to do in life. The man who had the job of counting these globules, with- out serious thought, would count them one by one. If he spent hie lifetime at that, he wonld require over fifty years' constant application and thennot get a very aeourate account. If a man would first apply him- self with his head, and disoover the best way to do hie work, he could do it in a scientific way, for 1,000,000,000 could be counted safely by a few hours' effort. Otherwise he might spend fifty years doing what he might do in a few bonne The poesible arming of time in this job by thoughtfulness might be forty-nine odd years ; we are always going hand first, back first, instead of head first. Think how to do thinga, and then do them in the best way—head first. Killed in Battle in the Last 35 Years. "Did you ever think how few people are killed during ware?" asked Thomas Sloane, of Boston, as he sat in the oolonade last evening. "Well, here is a memorandum I made recently regarding deaths in battle since 1856. The entire number killed dur- ing these thirty-four years—exolusive of those who died from disease—is about 2,253,000. In the Crimean war 750,000 were killed the Italian war of 1859 resulted in the slaughter of 45000; in the American civil war 800,000; in the Danish war, (1864), 3,000; in the Auetro-Prueeian war, 45,000; in the Franco-German war -- France 155,000, Germany 60,000; in the Turko-Russian war, 250,000; the South African wars, 30,000; the Afghan war, 25,000; the Mexican and Cochin -Chinese expedition, 65,000, and the Balgerioaa Ser- vian insurrection, 25,000."— Philadelphia Frees. What the Farmers Have to Suffer. Mills Angela Sillibilly (fresh from the eity)-0h, oh 1 Just look as those dear little come Brutal Rustle—Awe them ain't cows; them'a waves. Min Angela Sillibilly—Indeed 1 How awfully nice. And can't we all go out and remove the jelly from their feet before it opens 2 • Lord Boyle'has turned up idly° and well and has left for the Old Land td take the will and the eetates of the Earl of shannon. Hia errMio Lordship spent some years in the Northwest and learned how to legislate as a member of the Northwest Connell. —A countryman visiting the surrogate'n office, on obeerving the buge yolunien of, wills on the shelves, asked if they were No, sir," add the clerk, " they are testainente. —American Hebrew. A True Christian. Ferguson—People a001180 me of imbibing to much, but I defy them to say that I ever had any words with my wife's mother. Modusick—Guess she don't live in the same house with you. Fergtelon—Yee she does, but she'a clturib. Nineteen years ago a Gratiot, Mich., county farmer refused to let hie daughter go to a candy pull. She, went though and rerdeined away. Last week she drove up to her father'e door, lifted out her eleven children, coolly took off her wraps and astonished het father by deelaring that she had concluded to return and stay home, and hereafter be an obedient daughter. "The presidency of most South Ameri- can republics is a life office, is it not 2" " Nominally not. Practically it is. Few men liVe through one term." THE LATEST PEE1'E/11E EATS. A latibit More or Les* Pernicious Eased, en a Pl4siologica1 Principle. Thi e in awonderful age iu Whieh We live, says a New York oorrespondent of the. Indianapolis Journal. But the coming one wilt be atilt more atuazinm foie soarcely year goea by that we are not called upon to rewrite our fairy books, and aranefer their supposed tales of the imagination to the reeling of feet. Phe Eiffel tower is but a walking stick conaperea to what we shall have in the ooming centurn. end Edieon's phonograph will ere long become trite aod commonplace beside the newer triamphe which 'wham has in store for us. In the meantime We must content ourselves vvith petty marvels suola as I ma about to desoribe. You are doubtless aware that, ecientifloally considered, a bit of musk or ambergris is quite as per- siatent, mild and Jawing as a, mass ot granite. A thousand years have no appre- ciable effect upon it. It continues to give off its molecules with the same vigor and strength. A angle drop of attar of roma will per- fume a hogshead of water. And you no doubt know what a hypodermic syringe is, especially if you are oubject to neuralgia attacks. Well, for thcise who don't know' let me explain that it is shnply a tiny syringe, with a needle.like nozzle, which, the operator merely thrusts under the skin, and tben preseee the button, so as to ex- presa its contents. Nature does all the rent. If morphine happen to be in the syringe, nature takes up the drop of quiet- ing and benumbing fluid by means ot her absorbents, end transfers it to the mouths of the countlese veins, }wartlike isa fineneser which, in turn, bear it along until they pour it, mixed with the stream of venous blood, into the furnaoes of the lungs. There the intenae heat volatilizee it, and it etreams forth from the mouth with every fall of the °beet. "Web. what of that?" you say. Now, supposing, instead of givingthe ah- sorbente this drop of morphine you substi- tute a drop of bergamot, or violet, or rose; cen't you see that the lung furnace of that person would send out perfumed breath ? ' But more than th at,t hese wonderful absorb - teats would carry that infinitesimal supply of perfame to the very tips of the fingeree The hands and the face, in faot the whole body, would exhale a deliciously faint suspioion of rose or violet. In other wordn. by means of the hypodermic' syringe it is the simplest thing in the world for a, woman to send her favorite perfume liter- ally to the very core of her heatt. Every word she speaka every motion she makes, nature will give back this delightful odor which the tiny hypodermic set afloat under her skin. The coming woman will be per- fumed through and through. She will be sweet to the bone. There will be no need of stifling poor mortals, who happen to sit • next to her, by the use of pungent odors on the handkerchief. That custom will fall in- to the innocuousness a merited desuetude. Invitatione to dinner will contain an addi- tional word printed in the corner of the card in this way: (Violet), or (Rose), or (Heliotrope). This will be necessary IR order to avoid the presence of several ladiea all exhaling the same perfume in conversa- tion. The possibilities of artistic combi- nations of perfumes, arrangements of odors, symphonies in scent, will be end- less. Naturally the absorbent systems of some women will be found to take up and distribute certain perfumes better than others. ' Hence, it will not be unneuel in enumer- ating a woman'a points of beauty to formu- late them in this manner ; "Dashing blonde' tall and Diana -like in her motions, thin ofexquisite texture, hands and feet of. very aristooratio shape, teeth and hair per- fection ; exhales a most delicious rose.' Nor will it be a rare thing to read inn% a notice as the following: " Miss Duloie de Paulen has arrived at the springs, and at the hop last night she was the centre on attraction. She looked as radiant as the evening star, and her voice was velvet sof tnese to the ear, and breath intosioet- ingly sweet to thoae fortunate enough to be within inhaling distance. Connoisseurs insist that her breath has even gained in, sweetness since her appearance here lest season." Portuguese Taxes. The way in which the Portugnese pile on, the taxes in their East African colony be amazing, e.nd yet they can't make ends meet. Mr. H. H. Johnston states, in his, report on the province of Mozembique, that the income tax is fixed at 10 per oent, house rent at 10 per cent, and duties on -- imports vary from 3 to 10, and those on exports from 1 to 6 per cent. Both im- ports and exports are again subjected to ate additional tax of 20 per cent, or one-fith of the duty payable. An impost of 2 per cent is aleo levied by the municipality on food stuffs imported from other parts of the colony or from abroad. Beside these,, there are other minor taxes, such as those on shops, weights and measures, passports, domestic animals, treee, eto. In short, every possible artiole or requirement is taxed, and sortexes are also added, ftod yet, the revenue i� not suffident to defray the expenses of administration. For the year 1889.90 the estimates pnt the revenue at 2137,684 and the expenditure at 2193,910, showing a deficit of 256,226, which the Home Government is expected to defray, besides the subsidiea granted to navigation and telegraph companies. When will they try a more liberal policy 2—Pall Mall Ga- zette. A 8eote1e Lawyer's Big Fee. The largest fee ever peid to a Scotch advocate, says Truth, was that of the 1,000 guineas sent to the Lord Advocate with his brief in the recent action with reference to the Murthly estates. Five hundred guineas was the fee at first, but this was not enough to induce his Lordship to leave his datum in Parliament. Some time ago the Lord Advocate received a fee of 800 guineas in a Court of Session case—till this, the highest fee known in Scotland. It is anima that both feed ehould have been supplied by Amerioan millionaries, Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Ross Winans, and it is equally ouriona that both of therci lost their actions in the Court. Strange, Bat True. Wife—Now, this is a nice time for you to come home front the lodge Here it fa half past 2. Husband—What of it ? If I hadn't gone to the lodge et all it would be half -past 2 just the dame, wouldn't it? Love and liminess. Ethel—,Did Harry seem very much put Ont when you told him you didn't love hits well enough to marry him? Agnes—No, the brute. He merely said, busi- ness Is business," and 1,1allt the house.. "The plaintiff a,y0," recited the indge„ "that you often 'donated her; that yon subjected her to sharnefal treatment, that even you often straok her brutally. You call yourself a man and strike it woman of. M." The wife, who is in the court room, weeping, with her taco ha her hands, raises it suddenly at this and exclaims: "I beg pardon, judge, only 24 yeare."