Loading...
Exeter Advocate, 1900-3-8, Page 2iv% P v H ivaP TONS 1 F CE. By $TR 4 0 N ANGE WO l'aria t/E (Copyright, lag, by the Author.] She gave more tlaan a thought M go- ing en the stage—alwaYe a woman's first instinct iu times of stress—but When she heard a there being 1,100 semis on the hooka of one theater and 1,500 on the promise list of another she was discouraged from any hope of ne- in that direction, She thought of trying literature, and she did writ a little story which elle smiled and cried over and copied out many times and loved dearly. But she sent her baatling out into the hard world, and she never saw or heard of it again! She wondered whether she could start a better clam imbed for small children; bert, again, although she felt herself competent enough to teach, coramon sense stepped In and asked: "How are you going to aurnish a house? How are you going to live during the first quarrerr Will your mother ewer consent to tear herself away from her 'dee? "bowneina „Acacia 'V iIIa 2" And the answer 44-h.11PetSitaes eunh as showed the utter hopelessnenes, of attempting any such scheme as a t way out of her prment difficulties. The want of experience, the want of capital, the drag that her invalid mother must always be upon her movements, these disadvantages always came home to her when she thought out some fresh scherae for earning a living. "If I had only myself to consider, I txmld go and be a scullery maid," she maid to herself passionately, forgetting, girl, that a schoolte,e.cher would of but little use in kitchen or scul- lery. So the days went by peacefully and uneventfully enough, in perfect content on Mrs. Hamilton's part, in feverish unrest for Mary. Auden each one dark- ened into night she felt that she was one day nearer to a terrible alternative, to a meeting- with the man who had invorn to protect her against all possible troubles, but who /aed outraged her womanhood and broken down every &red of respect and gratitude which she might, nay would, have felt for him, She felt more and more as each morn- ing rose that she was fast approaching• the time when she must either submit to the vilest degradation of herself or ose her mother thrust out in her feeble- Shefound her mother Wing senseless upon the floor. liess to face a cold world in which ther etas• not so much as the barest provision for her( It was a terrible situation, a reel alternative, yet it was the natural outcome of a marriage entered into without the one great amalgamating But time goes on. Be the need ever in, great, there are no Joshuas novvadays ,to bid the sun standstill in the heavens, and so time flits on with noiseless and ninth:se step. The summer faded, au- tumn drew on, winter wae nigh at hand, said Mary Conway had found no resting place, no coign of vantage, no protec- tion against the humiliation that loom - ad before her. Her last effort was to go round the treat dress shops in the west end. but each one found sierne fault and would have none of her. One told her that 'errant of •experience was an insuperable objection, another that they never took young ladies into the showrooms with- out a handsome premium; a third com- plained that she was not tall enough, a fourth that she looked delicate, a fifth that she was too shy in manner. So she went home wearied in mind and body alike, with one more avenne closed to Am one raore hope gone. And when she, with a word of explanation upon her Lips, opened the drawing room door it Was to find her mother lying senseless *pot the floor and in her stiffened lin- gual an evening paper tightly clutched. CHAPTER V SIIIPwaRcK. Mary Conway forgot in an instant all the weariness and heartsickness which had possessed her when she entered the house. She cast but ono glance at the helplees figuee lying on the hearth rug, then ran to the bll and pulled at it hard, an eagoe peal sneh as brought the two maidservants runnine,, in to see what was amise. "Mouncey—toy mother! How long has she been left?" Mrs. Conway gasp., Mouncey with a scared face knelt down on the other side of the tincon- eciowe woman, "Lor', ma'am," she toad in trembling tones, "it'a not ten .etttee Sincei onI carried tea n. I came twiee, and Mrs. Hamilton said she'd rather wait for yore and at last Foster made the buns hot, and I brought tea in Withant sayiag anything. And Mrs. Hatailtote she says, 'Why, Mouncey,' She gays, you do spoil me.' ,And I say to Alr., Lot' mums will be • .14 - vexed if you go an,y longer past your teatime.And then she says. 'There's tiae newsboy. I'd like a paper, Mouncey. So I went out and got one, and I give it to her and—why, poor lady, sho's over had any tea at alit" "We must get her up to bed at once," said Mary anxiously "Can we carry her among us?" "Ler', yes, ma'am," answered Mouncey promptly "A little bit of a thing like her! Here, Foster, take hex. feet. I'll tlik-e her head. No, ma'am; We earl do better just the two of as." She was right, and Mrs, Hamilton, who wee very sniall and slight, 'svas soon safely laid upon her own bed. "I'd better fetch elle doctor, ma'am?' ateked Fosteu noa, yes, yes, at once! We must get her into bed, Mouncey." "Yes, ma'am, but there's no need to hurry. Poor lady! Pna afraid it will make very little difference to her!" "Hush-sh!" cried Mary fearfully. "Nay, ma'am; she hears nothing. If I was you, I would just cover her over With the eider quilt till the doctor has men her. Anyway I wouldn't undress her till the fire has bnrned up. I was just coming up M light it." She covered the old lady with the warm, gay colored quilt as she spoke, and taking, after the manner of house- maids. a box of matchee from her pocket set light to the fire, which Soon burned up cheerfully, caMiug a bright glow over the pretty room. "I'll fetch you a cup of tea now, rnahenti," she remarked, "for I'm sure On lieeti it." The protest which instinctively rose her lips died away under a newborn ✓ alleation of Jeer intense weariness. "I al very, very tired, Mouncey," she ea a helplessly. le good natured girl drew her into a ch 4r by the fire. "Sit here, ma'am, anti „II bring your tea. You can't do anything for the poor lady, and you may want all your strength for later on.,, She sped away, returning in a very abort time with the tea tray, on whic/a were a pot of fresh tea and a covered plate of hot buns, which had been On the stove awaiting the•naistress' return. These she arranged on a little table by the fireside and then poured out the tea and held the inviting little cakes that Mary might take one. In truth Mary was too tired to refuse such ministrations, which were doubly welcome just then, and Mouncey fairly stood over her until she had eaten enough to satisfy her 'sense of what was necessary and right. Then she 'went down stairs, leaving her mistress sitting in the big armchair wondering what the end of it all would be. "Poor mother!" her thoughts ran. "Poor, poor mother! Are you going this time, and have I naade the sacrifice for nothing? No, not for nothing, for I shall always be able to say, 'The end of her life was peace.' " She rose restlessly from her chair and went to the side of the bed, where she stood looking down npon the drawn, gray face already so deathlike in the immobility of unconsciousness. "I wonder what caused her to have an at- tack?" Mary said to herself. "She was so bright and well this morning. Could there have been anything in tbat paper ? Where is it? What did Mouncey do with it?" She looked about for it, but without success, and then she remembered that possibly it was still in her mother's hand.. So it proved to be, and Mary was obliged to tear the sheet a little in or- der to release it from that viselike grip, A glance was sufficient to tell the cause of Mrs. Hamilton's seizure. As she smoothed the crumpled page her eye caught the heading of the latest tel- egraphic news—"Reported loss of the ocean liner Arikhama, with over 300 lines!" Mary Conway was still staring wild- ly at the paper when Mouncey came in with the doctor in her wake. "What is it?" she asked, seeing the horror on her young mistress' face. "Oh, Mouncey—the paper—the news —my poor mother!" was all that Mary could say ere exhausted nature gave way under the strain and she dropped to the ground as dead to all sound and feeling as the poor lady stretched upon the bed. "Dear, dear, dear," said the doctor, "but this is a pretty kettle of fish! Dear, dear, a bad seizure this time! I was afraid it might happen before long. My good girl, is there bad news in that paper?" "Lor', sir—master's ship—loss of the Arikhama with 800 souls. That's mas- ter's ship—he's the captain! Oh, ney poor raissis, my poor, poor missis I" "Good heavens! Are you sure?" "See here, sir—oh, it's true enough! Oh, my poor, poor miss's!" "Well, help me to get her off the floor. In her case it's no more than a einaple faint. Yes, in that chair; undo her gown—a few drops of brandy. There, there, my dear lady, you'll be all right now." "What has happened?" asked Mary, struggling up. but sinking back again as her head began to swim. "Oh, I re- meroberl It doesn't matter about me, doctor, but my mother—she is very ill. The shock was too tench for her. Do at- tend to her, please." "Ifyeti will lie still the maid and I will attend to Alm- Hamilton," said the doctor soothingly. "Little or nothing to be done, ' ' he murmured to Mouncey, aa they turned to the bed. "She is not likely to live the night out. She must be got to bed, of Course. What strength have you ?" Ob, I'm very strong, sir replied Mouncey, in a matter of feet tone. "No, no; I mean how many of you are there?' "Me tincl cook, sir." "What ie she like?" "As stroeg and sensible a young wo- man as you could evieh to see in a day's march, sir," replied Mouncey prompt- ly, "and'll do anything in the world for th "That's good. If Mrs. Flanailton gees there nmst be a nurse got in, of course, but for touight there will be lite tie or nothing to do, only she roust not be left. I'll help you to get her into bed. "We can manage, sir." "It is not so easy as youthink, Be- sides, f'd like to eee her safely into bed before 1 leave," The desired end was soon accomplish- ed under the skilled hands of the doc- tor and the willing ones of Mouncey. Then the doctor wrote down a few sim- ple instructions and went, proniisiag to look in again the last thing. "Mrs. Conway," he said gently to Mary, "I must beg of you to try to eat your dinner. You have had a great double shock, and you will need all your reserve of strength. I have given your maid all instructions. There is little, :Almost nothing, to be done while your mother continues in this state." He went away then, and Mary sat down again in the big chair. The cook was btisy with the dinner, and Moun- cey, after clearing up some imaginary litter, disappeared with the tray, prom- ising to come back in a few minutes So she was left alone with her dying mother and the knowledge of her own widowbood, left alone to face the fact that she was practically free; that all the horror and wretchedness which had but a few hours before lain directly "I did not know it," said Mary. facing her had suddenly been removed. The tears gashed out from her sad eyes as she realized how this had conte about; but, although she wept, the sense of relief was there, involuntary, yet very, very strong. Ie was a wretched night which fol- lowed. Mary honestly tried to eat the dainty little dinner which Foster served to her, while Mouncey mounted guard in the sick chamber. BAUt all the time the sound of rushing ters was in her ears and the vision 6f drowned faces before her eyes, and he turned 'oath- ingly from tlaelonelynneal, which would have been thoroutly enjoyed by the poor soul up stai fast drifting into eternity. The pretense of dinner over, she crept back again to the sickroom, sending the two maids down to supper and stay- ing alone to keep the watch by the dy- ing beloved for whom she had worked so hard and suffered so much, to watch the outward passage of that frail and feeble little bark which would leave her tossing to and fro upon the ocean of life with none to counsel or guide. It was a terrible night, and it was followed by a etill more terrible day. Mary received from the owners of the great ship full confirmation of the news which the newspaper had taken to them in the first instance. There was not the smallest doubt that the large vessel was gone, that she was many fathoms under water. There was little or no dOubt that Captain Conway had gone down with her, and, so far as was known, only five persons of all her goodly company had lived to tell the tale of her disastrous end. Two of these were passengers, two were or- dinary sailors, the fifth was the ship's purser; all the rest of the 800 souls who had sailed aboard of her had found a watery grave and wortld be seen no more. All through the long hours of watch- ing and saspense did Mary Conway try to battle down the overwhelming sense of relief which had taken possession of her. She cared not, did not feel the very smallest grief for the husband who had forgotten his manhood and her womanhood alike, but she hated herself for not feeling it Her heart was torn In twain. One half was singing a Leman of thankfulness for deliverance; 'the other was bursting with a sense of her own impotence and helplessness to avert the sword then hanging above the head of her sick mother as the sword of Damocles bung suspended by a single hair She was glad in her heart that her care and anxiety for her mother world naturally account for the absence of any exhibition of great or noisy grief for her husband. The doctor spoke of the loss of the Arikhama once or twice, and Mouncey broils -lit her the latest de- tails that were published in the papers, but Mrs. Hamilton was during those first few days the object of paramount interest. Captain Conway was gonel All the love or loathing in the world could not affect him any more. For him all was over; be had already passed among the things that have been and shall be no more. But Mrs. Hamilton was still alive and Mill needed the most minute care and the closest attention. She was, in spite of that terrible tragedy of the sea, the most important person of that small household. In health she did not improve. At tithes faint flashes of understanding came back, but they were only feeble and flickering effoets of the clouded brain to re-establish its mastery of What was going on around her. If sbe knew any one definitely, it was Mary, but of that, even, they were none of them very certain. The nurse who was in charge said positively that Mrs, Hamilton knew no one. Monncey, on the other hand, insisted that she had seen the poor ladys yes follow the mistress as she moved away from the bed. This, bow - ever, was a atiestion wiaich tip one tould decide positively, but in discussing it the onlookers, all houg,1) it is prover bial that oulook ere Sec' DIOSt of the ganiO, never realized dint in anxiety for her mother Mrs. Conway suffered no grief for her husband On the Mural day after the coming of the news Mary received a visit from two gentlemen One was the managieg director of the company to which the Arikhama had belonged; the other was by bini introduced as the lawyer to the company. "Yon are perhaps," said Mr. Law- son, the /managing director, "not aware, Mrs. Conway, that your husband made a will three days before the Arikhama sailed from London." "I did not know it," said Mary. "Such, however. was the case," he faiid suavely, "and, moreover, his last instructions were that should anything happen during either of these voyages Mr. Mannington" --indicating his com- panion by a gesture--"shonid at once seek you out and make you acquainted with as little delay as possible with his last wishes with regard to the property he had to leave." aro as coNgierren.) Genius. "Genius," said the Billville citizen, "is not confined to time or place. Look at that boy yonder, ter instance. fle wuz tryin to 'break' a young mule to harness when the ereetur th-owed him into the top of a pine saplin, but no sooner did he land than he grabbed it possum what wile roostin thar, slid down the tree with him, an now the old lady's cookin that possum fer dinner."—Atlanta Coustitution, To Keep the cook. Mrs. Hiram (eleen—I bought one of those old fashioned mottoes at a great bargain today. Mr. Hiram Offen—For goodness' sake! Yoe dou't mean to say you're going to hang net sort of thing On Ottr walls? Mrs. Hiram Offen--Oh, this is for the kitehen, It reads, "A Riffling Stone Gathers No Moss,"—Philadelphia Press. March of Civilisation. The educated Indign, fresh from Car- lisle, had returned to visit the tribe of his fathers, in silence as the braves sat around the wood fire in the center of the tepee the calumet was passed to him. "Individual pipes, please," he said.— Chicago Tribune. Without Regard to Expellee. The king assembles the royal archi- tects. "13uild me a temple," he commands, "so costly that no smoker will ever be told that he might have owned It had he let tobacco alone?" Ah, this was aiming high indeed! But when was true art ever known to falter? —Detroit Journal. CHILDRENaS FASHIONS. Elaborate Styles For Very Little People. Fashion is as dictatorial in the realm of the children's wal drobe as in that of wo- men. She demands that little girls be to a great extent miniature copies of their mammas in attire, and not only mature styles but rich materials are .employed. Bias and circular skirts, long, straight sacks with little directoire capes and collars, fur, cloth, silk and velvet are as much for little as for big girls. Not that such a system of dressing children is in GIRL'S DRESS. the best taste, for the extreme type of fashion never is in the best taste. The most refined mothers usually clothe their little people very simply instead of over powering them with finery. Greenaway hats, which are much like those of the direetoire style, are used for little girls. They have a rippled brim bor. dered with fur. Gainsborough and Reyn- olds hats, with lifted brims trimmed with plumes, are another variety much liked, but too tnature and theatrical to be really suitable for a child. The picture shows ta party dress for n little girl 8 years old. It is of pale pink crepe de chine, and the skirt 's trimmed With a narrow band of guipure insertion shrtulating a tunic. The bodice, full in front, has it large polarize, collar of crepe de chine trimmed with two bands of in eertion and bordered with fringe. There Is no high collar. The sleeves, of elbow length., are terminated by bands and bows of pink silk, and the scarf belt, which is fringed and tied at the side, is of pink silk. ' JUDIO CHOLLET, The Glazier's Friend. "The door is open!" cried the owner of the house adjoining the fire. "You need not smash the window!" "Sir," cried the ftyreninn of the fire company, sending his ex through the glees, "we know our buainessi"—Philse delphia North American. Agent, E FARMERS' CLUBS. A Typical Club—P vogro mme of Me inas—The social side. Probably one of the LUOSi IllteVeSti read valuable of the educaticnial social movements in a eural commu ty is the farmers' club. It is one those unobtrusive but powerful iutI ewes which will ID a few years lea a distinct, ware upon tbe people a neighborhood where It is introdue Where a first class tam:let's' club is a firm basis you may expect to find exceptionally thrifty, prosperous a happy class of country people. The farmers' club movement has m with inuch favor In hlichigan, whe there is a state association of the clubs. Tbe secretary, A. 13. Cook, h just given 111 The National Stettin a description of their present Oh tion, some points of which follow: The first club was established least 20 years ago, but it is within t last ten years that the movement Pro ex' began, and It Is since the organiz don of the state association six yea ago that the phenomenal growth will has attracted national atteutiou h taken place. Your readers may very properly as "What is this farmers' club?" and will describe a typical Michigan clu Twenty families Is the average size the clubs. These families are witho exception the progressive farmers the neigbborhood. Wben we say fern lies, we mean It. Every one from th aged grandsire to the helpless babe welcomecl at every part of the wee Ing. The club meets mice a mont ima at the botnee Of members 10 rote Con. In the winter the meeting" las all day, or from 10 a. tn. until half pa 4 p. ni., and dinner Is provided by th hostess. In the summer menthe th meetiugs are held in the afternoon ly, and a supper is provided by di ones who enteiaalu. In some of ou clubs the refreshments are provide on tlie picnic dinner plan—that Is, elm member provides some part of the din ner or supper. thus dividing the wor but in a majority of clubs the ladle prefer to take entire cbarge once 1 about two years and then be entirel free tbe rest of the tine°. The programmes of the meetings ar prepared by two committees. On committee is appointed by the Mat association, and it prepares a list 0 subjects, one for each month. Thes subjects are assigned to members o the clubs by a committee appointed the club. Thus every month every on of our 300 or more clubs are dIscussIn the same subject. For instance, In Oc- tober every club discussed our new etate tax commission. Other state as sociation topics have been "The Tor rens System of Land Transfers," "Ou Agricultural College," "Free Rura Mail Delivery," and so forth. The corn taittee already referred to, which I appointed by the club, assigns subjects to some, select readings, etc., to others and its report is read at the meeting receding the one at which this pro ramme is to be rendered, thus giving mple notice to those on the pro- ramme. A music committee sees tha usic is provided. Tis system pro ides an educational and attractive rogramme entertaining alike to young rid old and freely participated in by Il ages of' both Saxe& Business matters are freely discuss d, and in our own club we have often urchased clover seed and binder twine s a club at quite a reduction from the rice to individuals. Thus far, how - ver, the matter of co-operative buying as not been pushed by the state asso- iation. Practical farm matters are given a rominent place on the programme nd great benefit derived from the in- rchange of ideas. One of the best features of the meet - g. however, is the social feature. We now how little of a social nature conies to cur lives on the farm. Tbe club ay is se day of society. Old &Iona - hips are cemented and new friend- bips are formed, and the initial step taken toward a closer union among ur farnaers. We see what a good lot neighbore we have, and suspicion nd distrust give place to mutual re- ard and confidence. So as a result of our club meeting e bave a day of pleasure and Intel- etual anti financial profit for all the embers of every family and all at ry small expense end at nd sacrifice time needed In sleep and not a min- e in the face of temptation to evil. it any wonder when so much good is culeated ill an institution that suc- ss and progress should mark Its path - ay? Its record of 200 clubs In six ars with not oue cent paicl to or - !liners or officers, which is the Miclai- n record, speaks for itself. a a a a a te In in iS of a le ve of ut Is in ce ye go ga Shrinkage of Gilain and Roots. Oct. 19, 1898, the lowa axperinaent station put 7,000 pounds of corn in' a crib of about the usual size, or 131/e feet long and 7y2 feet wide. Thia corn was weighed once a week for the year. \Aline tho shrinkage was mit regular from week to week, owing probably to variation of 'moisture in the air, they found that in the first three tnonths it shrank 030 pounds, or 9 per cent. In the second threeenonths there was a further loss of 390 poundS, from April 19 to July 19 a shrinkage of 220 pounds, and from July until Oc- tober it sheank 190 pounds, making a total loss of 1,430 pounds, or a little more than ,20 per cent on the first weight. Farmers who 'store grain or roots over winter to obtain higher prices often think they gale by so do- ing, when they really lose money, be- sides labor of handling. Most roots shrink 15 to 20 per cent in weight dine Ing the winter of five months,- or froin. harvesting to aortas sales. CIDER VINEGAR. Good Results Prom Running' Per. located elder Through is Generatoe. For pure cider vinegar no mature tap-, pies are considered too poor. In experi- ment station work reported by the dee partineut of agriculture vinegir mak- ing in the ordinary way, by allowIngo the eider to ternient at will in eosins, without controlling the surroundlus. conditions, gave results that were far trona profitable. By regulating tho temperature and adding vinegar nanah- er and cultures of acetic acid ferment' fairly good vinegar was secured, but Sae process was slow and wasteful. By (nixing equal parts of fermented alder and old vinegar the process of ferrneo- tation was greatly hastened, but the' method cannot be followed without o' large stock of old vinegar on hand. Very good results were secured by using a vinegar generator in whieb the - cider passed slowly through a masa a, shavings, where It was thoroughly atm ated and fermentation thus hastent& The generator consisted of a 4 by foot wooden wooden tank filled with beech shavings, provided with holes near the bottom for the admission of air and fit- ted one foot from the top with a wood- en disk perforated to allow the en- trance of the cider, which was distrib- uted evenly over It by means of et. dumper. The. vinegar was drawn from the tank by means of a siphon of ale= tubing inserted in a bole near the bot- tom. The temperature 01 the ferment- ing eider in the mass of shavings war controlled by regulating the supply of air, some of the air holes being ehut off when the temperature rose too'higb and opened when it fell too low. In order to acidify the shavings ard. start the process of fermentation, the generator was cliarged with strong vinegar and again with vinegar In which some concentrated grape juice was dissolved. The stock solution, a mixture of weak vinegar and fer- mented cider, was then run through the generator at the rate of 20 gallone per day (24 hours). The resulting prod- uct was a very good vinegar, ranging from 4,05 to 5.87 per cent acid. A mixture of half vinegar and half fresh, cider failed to produce good vinegar without being run through the genera- tor twice. Better results were obtaineta by allowing the cider to ferment fOr some time in casks before running Pe through tlee generator. The temperature within the genera, tor two feet from the bottom ranged from 88 degrees to 100 degrees: The higher temperature caused a. lose of a)l- cohol and lowered the acidity of the - product. Temperatures below 00 de. grees did not give good results. The- optinanin is thought to be about 06 de- grees. Apple Packer or Press. A. correspondent sends to the (able Farmer a drawing of an apple packer, made by a home blacksmith, which he A BARIUM PRESS. patterned very much after those in use' in localities where apples are exten- sively grown, packed and shipped. Fig. A shows its construction and B' a barrel with the head pressed in ready. for driving the hoops down. 'Killing 'Weeds by Spraying. Killing weeds by spraying is a recent; Interesting departure in farm practice. The American dintivator says it is now authoritatively announced that a 2 per cent solution of sulphate of copper or an 8 per cent soletion of sulphate, of' iron Is strong enough to kill any char - lock (or wild mustard) plant well drenched with it and that the aincinna to be used may vary from 40 gallonie per acre where there Is but little char - lock to 70 gallons where It is abundant. It is better to increase the araount used than to make either solution stronger. Oats and other crops amongsvhich the charlock was growing were ea tittle at- fected by the spraying, more by the-. copper solution than by the iron solu- tion, the growth seeming to be chenkeal a little, but quickly recovered ani6, seemed to take on a darker green afteie a 5. cr ng ant as is so iv stood more or less deought. Farther west moisture has been generously dis- tributed. Ohio will have a good many onions." The styli of cabbage most in de- naand, according to The Rural New Yorker, is of the flat Dutch type, flat heads, but thick and Solid.' The larger part 01' the supplies hi the New Ydrk market are of this type. It is said that ninny of the abandon- ed farms of alassachueetts catalogued for sale by the state board of agricul- ture in 1897 have been withdrawn be' their owners, and, in spite of some tip parent deeline of population in the ktilt town, the outlook for agriculture lo cheerful. Fewer field crops are grovel. but fodder crops and the silo, Increain ed. dairying, poultry farming and mar - het gardening are bringing !theta' Wastage in, farm 'prospects,