The Brussels Post, 1895-7-26, Page 2POS",
HEART_
TO. FIEART3
o , LovE' UNgxi, INo o.ca ..
CHAP:IERV.-4009l,LNUSDO though I called twice at Scotland Yard
Thq dread da 0 tI o funeral dawaetl to"inquire,"
epta ;.ober 6th.—Found A brief note in
yp. m i.
Upon her
leaning u ndrawers evidently ad -
1 and, oneof i rte d o t tl
loam a sod a e P n I a a r
o and , g
dressed to myself, containing more joal-
one tfradee againet Lady Grace, whom
she insists upon imagining I am about to
marry ; poor, foo'ieh girl !"
Theee and ether eutriee of the ammo kind
plainly proved that Mark Deloraine had
never married Kate O'Connor, and Roger's
heart sank like lead in hie breast ao he
perueed them.
91 hen every receptacle in the Abbey
where a ,will could possibly have been
platted had been tboroughiy examined,
Roger was obliged to own himself beaten
and to admit that his beloved Hilda was
now indeed namelees, honteloas. and, save
forhimaelf, utterly friendless.
"I shall remain here, Mr. Mantaoute,"
Wilmot had said, "and it is, I think, ad.
viable that Mies O'Connor should leave ae
8000188 she can make it cunvenient, in a week
or two atany rete, as Colonel Deloraine
wishes to visit the Abbey and will not do so
while she romaine. Dx. Wentworth has
promised to inform her of what my client
proposes to do for her."
And Roger bad po resouroe but to
promise to see Hilda and tell her of the fate.
in store for Mark Deloraine'e idolized
daughter.
lover's arm, in angnieli lar tom deep ler
tears, Hilda followed the COMM wbiob,
Covered with a oilver.friagod velvet pall,
was borne upon the ehonldere of hie men
to the beautiful old church, where all that
Woe mortal of Mark Detereine wee deposit.
ed in the vault beneath where aq many of
his aneeetcre elept their lest long sleep.
When Hilda reentered her desolate home,
Nigel 'Wentworth stepped forward and
requested her preemie° in the library, and,
aoosmpanied by Monteoute and Mrs. Pal-
mer, who, with the Vicar, Maria and
Simone] of the dead Squire's moat intimate
friende, had returned with her to the
Abbey, ahs proceeded to the library, A
middle-aged' man of grave aspect stood on
the rug in front 0 the huge fire ; he
bowed formally to Hilda as she entered,
and Mr. Wentworth said ;
"This gentleman is Mr. Wilmot, the
confidential adviser of your unole, Colone
Reginald Deloraine."
Hilda held out her hand to the strange
lawyer, and asked timidly :
"Is my unole hero, Mr. Wilmot 1"
"No, madam," he replied. " Colonel
Deloraine's health is delicate, and his
medical men forbade him taking a journey
in such inclement. weather. I am here to
attend to hie interests.
"I am not aware that that is necessary,"
said Roger hotly,stung by a certain some.
thing in the lawyer's manner, for which he
was quite unable to account. "Mise Delo.
rains is her father's only child and acknow-
ledged heiress, and 1 believe Mr. Went.
worth here con assure you that It was his
client's intention chat his daughter should
inherit everything,"
"Possibly," said Mr. Wilmot, calmly ;
"and perhaps Mr. Wentworth, being, as
you say, in the late Mr. Delorame'e cond.
dance, can also inform me whether the
equire left any will."
"I should say certainly not," said Roger.
"I never heard him hint at such a thing ;
everyone knew that his daughter was sole
heiress."
Again the same unpleasant smile curved
Mr. Wilmot's lips as, taking no notice of
the impetuous young man, he turned to
Nigel, and said :
" 1 asked you, sir, whether the late Mr.
Deloraine left a will or not ?"
Nigel turned as pale ae death, and
paused a moment ere he replied. Surely
bio good and evil angels strove for Inas•
tsry in that brief pause. Alas 1 unavail-
ing, for he answered in a firm, steady
voice :
"Not that I am aware of, and I was
entirely in his confidence. He would
hardly have employed any one else to
execute his wishes. There was no neces•
Pity for any will, and his death was so
eudden."
"Just so," replied Colonel Deloraine'e
lawyer. " Then I have to inform you that
I claim all the estate, the house, lands,
funded property, plate and jewels, on
behalf of my client, Colonel Reginald
Deloraine, who is the Bole surviving rela-
tive of the late Mark Deloraine."
" You must be mad,' exclaimed Heger,
starting forward and laying a heavy
hand on ltlr. Wilmot's shoulder, " that
you make such unseemly jests at such a
time ae this. How can any one be more
nearly related to Air. Deloraine than his
own child, Hilda Deloraine?"
"Hie own child, possibly," replied Wil.
mont, "but not Hilda Deloraine. Hilda
O'Connor is the squire's illegitimate child,
and as such cannot inherit one penny of his
ortune."
"Oh, my God 1" broke from the white
lips of the unhappy girl,aad Roger rushing
up to Wilmot, would have felled him to
the ground had not Wentworth placed
himself before him.
"For Heaven' sake, commit no violence
Mr. Montacute," he exclaimed; "you will
do Miss Deloraine no good, and yourself a
great deal of harm."
"Let him retract tint lie, or I will force
hie words down his throat," said the young
man, struggling to free.himeelf from Went -
worth's grasp.
"Itis no lie," rejoined Wilmot calmly,
"Do you think, air, that I should he such a
fool as to assert a thing I could not prove.
Either produce the register of Mies Del•
oraine's marriage with Catharine O'Connor,
or the squire's will; if you can do neither,
this young lady must be prepared to vacate
the Abbey as soon as possible."
It is impossible to describe the effect
which Mr. Wilmot's speech produced upon
the assembled company, Poor Hilda tried
to speak, but in vain, and with a low cob
of unutterable anguish she sank upon the
ground in a atate cf insensibility.
"Aunt," said Roger reproachfully to hie
relative, who had sat in stony oilenee Jur.
ing the whole Beene, as he raised Hilda in
his arms, "come and help to restore my
poor darling."
"Better ring for her maid, Roger," said
the lady eternly; but Roger, looking
defiantly at his aunt, lifted Hilda from the
floor, and bore her in his strong arms from
the room.
Mr. Wilmot turned to Nigel and said
gravely: '
"It is a sad blow for the poor girl, Mr.
Wentworth, but you may depend upon it
that I have only asserted the truth. I am
surprised that Mr, Deloraine did not make
a will,"
"I did not say that he did not, only that
I was not instructed by him on the sub.
jest," interrupted Nigel.
"Well, then," said Mr. Wilmot, "it is
our duty to make a search at once. Of
course, my client only wishes to obtain
what is justly hie right, and should no
will be found, I am instructed to offer
Mists O'Connor the sum of 100 pounds a
year for her support, and of course all her
own personal property is at her own die.
poral."
Roger returning at this moment, the
three gentlemen proceeded to search in
every place, likely or unlikely, where the
will might have been deposited, but all to
no avail. They continued their quest
while the short Winter day deepened into
dusk, and resumed it again the next morn.
ing until every deed box, and chest, table
drawers and desks had been thoroughly
turned out, and still there was no eign of.
either will or marriage certificate.
Among other papers 0 the squire's they
found a diary bearing the date of the years
in .which Katie O'Connor bad left hie
home. Among the entries were the fol.
lowing brief lines :
"August 16, -No clew to the where•
mbouto of poor . Katie and her child,
CHAPTER VI.
" A MILD OF MISFORTUNE 1"
Roger found Hilda seated in the dressing.
room bending over a writing table sorting
papers and burning lettere. She raisedher
bead with a sad smile as her lover entered
the room.
' You bring me no good news, Roger, I
can see by your face,' she said, rising and
going to meet him, pale indeed, but perfect, -
resolute and composed,
"No, my poor darling girl," exclaimed
the young man ; " we can find no traceof
any will, and indeed, I hardly expected
wo should do so, as Mr. Wentworth awned
so positive that the squire had never made
one. Well, we must bear it, darling,"
drawing her to his bosom and kissing her
pale lips with fond passion. " There will
be no disrespect to the dear squire's mem-
ory in my giving hie child a home at once.
We will be quietly married next week,
dear, and go away for a short time, till this
nine days' wonder is forgotten."
" And do you think, my dear, generous
Roger, that I will do you so great a
wrong as to become your wife now--
penniless,
ow-penniless, and with thio cruel stain upon
my name ? No, love, I will not be so selfish.
I can never become your wife," a hitter
sob choking her voice as she spoke, while
she gently disengaged herself from his
circling arms.
" What utter nonsense you aro talking,
Hilda," exclaimed Roger, •impetuously.
"Why, do you think I will ever give you
back your promise? Never 1 Of that I
oan assure you. 'What does it matter to
me whether your name is Deloraine or
O'Connor? You are my Hilda all the
same, and my name, dealing, shall be yours
as soon as you will take it. "
You forget your aunt, Roger," mur.
mured Hilda, suffering him, however, to
draw her close to Otte faithful breast.
"What will Mrs. Palmer say?"
" Oh, never mind my anus" rejoined her
lover. "She always does everything I
wish. Besides she always loved you,
Hilda."
But, in spite 0 his bold words, he felt an
uneasy qualm ae he remembered his aunt's
look and tone when she spoke of Hilda,
whose sweetness and beauty in Aire.
Palmer's opinion could not atone for her
lose of fortune and the bar sinister on her
ee:etchedh.
What need to repeat all the lover's
fond, foolish words, as he urged a
speedy marriage upon Hilda? Enough
to say that, despite her better judgment,
sheyielded to his impassioned pleading,
and promised him that when she (eft the
house of which she had always been conei•
dared the heiress it should be for a
husband's rcof and a husband's protection.
And they eat together on the sofa while
the short Winter day deepened into dusk,
Hilda with her golden heat' pillowed upon
Roger's tweed shooting jacket, planning a
future together, heedless 0 the heavy
storm clouds so soon to break upon their
heads. The servants had turned the
house of mourning into a house 0 feast-
ing, and were entertaining some droppers -
in from the village with strong tea
and unlimited pseip, and it was 6
o'clock before Hilda's maid brought in
her mistress's tea, with a murmured
apology for the lateness of the hour.
Like all the rest of the household, the
lady's maid knew that Hilda had fallen
from her high estate, and was not slow
to take advantage of the change in her
situation. When Parkins had drawn
the heavy velvet curtains over the two
large windows and stirred the fire into
a cheerful blaze, lighting the clusters of
wax lights upon mantelpiece and writing
table, Roger rose up, and, taking Hilda's
hands in his, bade her an aflectionate faro -
well, and, promising to ride over and see
her on the morrow, followed Perkins from
the apartment. As Hilda sankdown in
her luxurious chair by the fire and sipped
her tea out of the exquisite Sevres cup,
how little did she dream of the change in
her destiny that the next twenty-four hours
would bring forth. Her heart was very
heavy as she sat there in lonelinese and
sorrow, and her bright eyes were dim with
tears as she thought 0 the tender father
whose sudden death had left her so deem
late.
" Oh, my darling," she sighed, lifting
anguished eyes to the likeness of Mark
Deloraine, which smiled at her from the
velvet -covered mantelpiece, "could you
he happy if you knew hew terribly your
child fe suffering, how lonely she is now
without your fond love, your tender com-
panionship?"
As she thus apostrophized her beloved
dead she perceived a note whioh Perkins
had deposited upon the writing table by
her side—a delicately perfumed note, in a
square, pale -gray envelope, its elaborate
monogram to violet and silver, bearing the
letters "E. P."
Takiue it up and glancing listlessly at
the direction, a wave' of Dolor flooded her
pale cheek on seeing that it was addressed
to " Mies O'Connor," and was in the well-
known haddwriting 0 lire. Pahner, .A
frown contracted her brow as she tore open
the note and read as follows :
"The Temple, Thursday,
"Dear Miss O',Coanor"—('feho 'might
have spared me that blow" she murmerod,
"especially as she hap alwaye called me
Hilda," and she resumed the perusal of
Mee. Palmer's curt epistle,") "I am anxiouo
to see you at once upon buainees that
admits of no delay, and will oallat the.
Abbey tomorrow morning, between 10 and
11' o'aloek, and trot to find you alone aid
dioongagad, Believe me, truly youre, E,
PAo,WEn,
The note dropped from Hilda'e hand and
the tears she had hitherto repressed Orem,
oda.
" Now cowr l 1" she .exelai ped between
her oohs, "how insulting 1 And only a
week ago she coiled boreal( my warmest,
truant friend, Oh, papa 1 papa 1" said the
unhappy girf, flinging hoirooli upon her
knees by theoofa and hiding her fade in
the brocade oushiono, "takeour poor
Hilda away from all thie cruelty 1 How
oan 1 live, despised and alone 1"
Tho next morning,puuotually a. t the hent'
elle had named, the door of Hilda'o boudoir
was opened by Perkins, who announced
Mrs, Palmer. Hilda rose from her seat and
advanced to greet the old Ludy, whom elle
bed not seen eine the sad day of Mark
Deloraine's funeral,
"You wished to see me, Mrs, Palmer 7"
cite faltered, as ehe whealed an easy chair
close to the blazing fire to her visitor.
"Yee, Hilda," replied Mrs. Palmer, "I
am very a'nx1ous, as an old friend of the
poor Squire's, to know whether I oan aid
you in your plans for the future, and it is
time you made some arrangements, as Mr,
Wilmot) Inform me that Colonel Deloraine
wishes to some to the Abbey the week
after next, and of course you cannot re.
main here much longer."
Poor Hilda felt her heart sink like lead
in her breast at this unfeeling speech, and
it was with the utmost diffioulty that she
could command her voice sufficiently to
reply:
1 have made no plane, Mrs. Palmer,
Roger was here yesterday, and he wished
me to"--
At the mention of Roger's name, Mrs.
Palmer at once abandoned the smooth
"society" tone in which she had hitherto
spokenand exolaimed
i :
"It s better to speak plainly to you
Hilda, and to assure you that I cannot un-'
der the oircumeta0oee, countenance any
engagement whatever between yourself and
my nephew. Surely your own good sense
would have told you title without my inform.
ing you of it 1"
Hilda's spirit rose as she answered :
"I did offer to release Roger from the
engagement, Mrs. Palmer, but he refused."
"1 dare say he did, foolish, headstrong
boy 1" rejoined the old lady. 'But I told
him this morning, when he mentioned the
subject to me, that unless he consented to
be guided by my wishes I would alter my
will and leave all my money to the County
Hospital."
And what did he say?" Poked poor
Hilda, eagerly.
"Say ? Oh, he talked a great deal of
sentiment on the subject, said he consider•
ed himself bound to fulfil his engagement,
talked grandly of working for his wife,and
when I asked him what he proposed to do
he bounced out of the room in a rage."
"Dear Roger 1" murmured Hilda, ten.
derly.
"Foolish Roger, I say 1" interrupted the
irate lady. "Why, what is he fit for ?
He has no profession, no means of earning
a living. Re told me he would take a
gamekeeper's place, or enlist, sooner thap
give you up ; but I think I know you
better than to suppose you would drag the
man you profess to love down to poverty..
Surely Hilda, you will never hold him to
his promise ? If you do, I will diaeard him
from my heart,and under no circumstances
shall he have a penny of my money."
"But why? \,That have I done ?" asked
the unhappy girl.
"Nothing, Hilda," answered Mrs. Pal-
mer, gravely. " Yon are the innocent
victim of the sine of your parents. It is
not your toes of fortune -that I could
overlook ; but I will never consent to my
nephew marrying a woman nameless
tad disgraced as you are. Had the
squire's death taken place one day later
you would have been Roger a wife, and I
must have submitted to the inevitable,
though 1 think it would have broken my
heart ; as it is, I am quite determined
that I will never consent to the marriage.
Stop"—for Hilda was about to speak—
" entreaties are of no avail. If your
father had provided for you—ae it was hie
duty to do—of course my nephew could
have done as he pleased, but how long do
you think you would be happy together,
if you saw him a beggar, deprived by you
of all the comforts and luxuries to which
he has all his life been accustomed Come
Hilda, do not let your selfishness ruin the
man you love. Renounce Roger of your
own free will, and I will provide for your
future. I will give you such a slim of
money as will render you independent,
and--"
Stop, Mrs. Palmer 1" exclaimed the
girl, " you have said enough. I will take
no bribe to give up the man I love better
than life itself; but I will not be the cause
of his ruin—the victory is yours, you have
conquered. Explain it to Roger in the
beet way you are able, and give him thin,"
drawing from her finger the diamond ring
which had been planed there by her happy
lover on their betrothal day. And without
another word Hilda turned and left the
room, leaving the old lady to find her way
down staire and to her carriage as beet she
could.
When Hilda reached her own roam, the
tears whioh she had with diifreulty repress-
ed during her tnterview with Mrs. Palmer
burst forth, and throwing herself face
downward upon the embroidered satin.
coverlet of her bed, the unhappy girl gave
roe vent to her grief. And, indeed, the
poor orphan had good cause for tears.
Raft, at one blow, of father, name and
fortune, she had now to drain to the dregs
the oup of bitterness, and to find hereelt
despised by her friends and parted forever
from that fond, true•hearted lover whom
she loved so dearly, so unselfishly. One
thought alooe,amid the tumult of her flout,
found place in Hilda's breast, and it was
that of instant flight I She felt that she
dared nob remain within reach of Roger's
tender pleading, for she judged the young
man aright and knew that he would never
agree to Mee her up. And the heroic,
self-sacrificing love which had supported
her in the presence of Mrs. Palmer, would,
she feared, be ae flax in the fire of Roger's
passionate pleadings:
No, oho could no longer remain at the
Abbey, and she determined to leave it
alone, and secretly, that very night. The
resolution nn sooner was made than she
proceeded to act upon it. Rising from
her couch and pushing away the wavy
tangles of her hair off her tear -stained
faoe, Hilda commenced her preparations
for her departure forever from her
father's roof. They were fow and simple,
She packed into as email a compose as
possible a couple of ohanges of linen and
some necessary articles for the tui.
let. Theee she deposited in a moroe0o
leather bag. Fortunately, 'elle had an
ample sum of money, in notes and gold
placing ten sovereigns in her puree, she.
made the rest of her money into to parcel,.
to go into the richly fitted dreesing•bag,
which, adorned with her monogram in
pink coral and pearls, had been one of
her father's wedding "presents. 'A bitter
trial it was to Hilda to separate her own
valuable jewelry from that which had
JULY 26
been the gifto ref her laver, ea well ao
wedding prceeute from Womb and ao-
guaiptanoee! Sho piled the oostly Orin -
hate upon a shelf fn her wardrobe, aid
plamod upon the top of the pile a
brief note to Mr, Wentworth requesting
him to he so kind AS to return the gifts
to the different friende who had offered
them to the heiroos of Marham Abbey,
Her own jewelry, which reprooentod a small
fortune, she peeltedtin her dreeoing-bag,
She lef0 untouched the large boxes and
oases whioh contained her catty wedding
trousseau, placing in readiness a eealokin
coat and cap, which, with a large for -lined
oloak, she intended to wear upon herjour-
ney. By the time her preparations were
completed it watt paeb three o'clock, and,
glancing at her watott,Hllda found that she
would have ample leisure to pay a brief
visit to the park and look once more upon
the manes where the drama of her life had
been played out. It was a bitterly cold
afternoon, and muffled in her costly furs,
Hilda descended the grand etaireaee, No
obsequious footman was Waiting in the hall
to attend as 0 yore to her slightest wish,
and Hilda left the house and proceeded
into the gardens without having been seen
by any of the servants. She made the tour
of the eoneervatcries and hothouses, in
which Oho had taken euoh pride, pluoking
a few fragile blossoms and delicate terns to
accompany her into exile. Who would
ever love those exquisite flowers as oho had
done, she thought, ao she took her lonely
way to the Queen's spring, where, in like
golden Summer weather, she had been
clasped to Roger's heart and listened to
his words of love. As Che etood leaning
against the marble balustrade, and watch-
ing the frozen watoro at her feet, the frag-
ments of a Hong whieh.her lover need to
sing -in his ringing baritone voice came
sadly to her memory. How changed her
fate had been since those words of undying
love had sounded in her ears.
(To B0 CONTINUED.)
THE COURT OF MADAGASCAR.
Queen Itanavaloiho and the Premier-11ns-
baud Who Bides.
Dr. Meyer d'Estray describes in the Journ-
al des Economistes of latest date the court
of the sovereign of Madagascar. Ranavalona
1II., the reigning Queen, says Dr, d'Estray,
is far from having delicate features, and her
complexion is considerably darker than
most of her subjects. Her figure is above
medium height, She dresses in European
garments, and upon state ocoasions wears a
robe of red velvet and a crown of gold.
Her usual residence is not the enormous
three•etory palace ivtoja Kamiadtna, built
for Ranavalona I. by a French architect,
but a stone mansion hard by called the,
Palace of Masandro, arranged in good taste
and with proper regard to comfort. The
Queen's supreme power i0 only apparent,
the real sovereign being her husband and
Prime Minister, Raiuilair'fvoni, a man of
65, who has Been three Queens on the
throne and has for thirty -years brought
tempest or fair weather to the State, as
seemed to him best. He is small and lean
and rtah. His wavy hair bespeaks his
humble origin, Under an air of good -
fellowship he conceals extreme energy, an
iron will, end much keenness of intellect.
Withal he is
AN ABLE POLITICIAN.
He lives in the Palace of Zanovota, called
the Silver House, because, when It was
built for Prince Rakoto, son of a former
Queen, the Prince caused it to be studded
with silver nails and furnished with silver
'cake. The Premier -King dresses plainly
save on greatoccasions, when he wears a
dolman of white satin, embroidered with
gold ; short trousers ending in white
stockings, with ribboned garters ; great
huskies, with very high heels, and suspend-
ed
uspended from his shoulder a cross belt, heavy
with gold, which supports a sabre, whose
scabbard of black leather is encrusted with
gold. Round hie neck he wears the oollar
of a commander of the French Legion of
Ho
Pernor.haps the most impressive annual
ceremony of the court 10 that which occurs
Nov. 21, the tenth day of the Malagasy
new year. Business is suspended and the
sovereign commands that enemies become
friends for at least that day. So literally
is the command obeyed that wives return
to their divorced husbands. Gifts are
exchanged the country over. At 8 o'clock
on the evening of Nov. '21 there is a salvo
of artillery, and the native dignitaries,
along with distinguished Europeans, hasten
to the Palace of Silver. 'Tore the Queen is
found enthroned upon a dais covered with
red velvet. The servants of the Queen file
past offering presents. Then the Prime
1linister makes a long speech, reviewing
the events of the year juet closed, praising
the virtues of the Queen, and holding up to
the people the wisdom of her Government,
which is hie own. As .he reviews each act
of Government he asks whether it was just
and right, and
TEE 011013TED REPLY
from the assembled company is "Manlier
izar I" "It is true." The Queen, who has
a shocking habit of tobacco chewing, keeps
it up vigorously throughout her husband's
speech, and uses a silver vase as a cuspidor.
When the speech is done the relatives of
the Queen, from her oldest uncle to her
tiniest nephew, filo before her bearing
epoono for preparing the traditional rice,
Before the rum ispresented the Queen
disappearebehinda curtained soreen,wliere
a basin of warm water Las been made ready,
and takes a bath. The cannons announce
that the purification of the royal person is
complete, and the Quoen, having dressed,
returns to the throne. She bears now an
ox horn filled with water from her bath.
Having wet her fingers with the water, she
streake her forehead with different caste
marks, and having sprinkled those round
about, .she solemnly eats several spoonfuls
of rice, the first 000ked in the eountrysince
the opening 0 the now year. This ends
the official fete, but it is continued next
day and for several days thereafter by the
people throughout the oountry with
various observances and much teal. Tho
Queen lets loose in the streets of the capi-
ta) half adozen fat cattle, which are madly
pursued by the people, the first man to
bring down and seize one of the beasts be-
coming its possessor.
Made Up In Satisfaction,
He was the meanest man in town, an
the druggist's Mork hated him a000rdingly.
Ho came into the store and asked for
arsenic.
How much ? said the clerk.
Five oento' worth, I want to poison a
dog with it.
Oh, ah,.politoly smiled the clerk; you
want to commit suicide, 1 perceive.
He didn't wait for the platen after that,.
and the olerk lost is Bale, but made it op in
satisfaction, P
AQR,JCULTURAL
The Outlet of Tile Drain,
The outlet of a tile drain oilould not be
of tile, A more stable ending to a .drain
is needed tc mist the option 0 frooG,
waabing, eto, It ie beet to have the outlet
conetruoted of atone Or brick, er both, and
to have the opening covered with One wire
: i
..,4.1..E '/
lAlr. i.,�ILL
I, i„i1 �tr
Mji�(ta
netting to keep out emelt animals, Tho
stones or briok should be laid in cement.
The illustration gives a suggestion of how
the work may well be done. In warm
climates earthenware gratings attached to
vitrified or glazed tile may be used ipateed
of iron netting.
Commereial Grape. Growing.
Grape growing isms exception to the rule
that every industry, as it develops, is eon•
tinually changing. If ibis profitable, strong
competition comes in, and then new and
cheaper methods must be adopted. A few
years ago grapes were grown in many
eeetions and &tipped to market without any
particular system.' This haphazard practice
is still carried on in some'looalities, but at
no profit to the producer. In 1890 grapes
netted the grower 240 per 8 -Ib basket. In
1894 124e per basket was the average, and
future prime will,- in all probability, be
even lower. It it, therefore, auntie' that
perfect system and eloseattention to details
be observed,otherwise the business will be
a losing one. A vineyard must be located
on high ground, free from spring frost, or a
single night may destroyayear's prospecte.
The soil must he productive, or the yield
will not be sufficient to pay expenses. On
poor, sandy soils, barnyard manure has
been used with good results, especially
when applied in connection with wood
ashes. Let the system of pruning and
training be the simplest and most in-
expensive. Other fruits are self suppgrt.
ing ;but the grape must have its trellis,
whioh even with oheap wire and poste, is
the most costly item in the vineyard. The
old plan of spur pruning mustbe abandoned.
It leaves too muoh wood, and the fruit is a
mass of imperfect oluaters, which frequent-
ly fair to ripen properly. The Kniffen
system, of four horizontal oanos of the
previous- year's growth, has proved the
most successful and is being universally
adopted. Under this system the clusters
are of good size and seldom fail to ripen
properly. Pruningean be done more rapidly,
workmen " catch on" to this method more
readily and are lees likely to destroy the
usefulness of the vine by oarelesaneoe.
Regular and systematic cultivation is
most essential to success. During spring
and early summer, if a spell of wet weather
comes on, the vines must be sprayed with
bordeaux mixture to prevent rot and anth.
ramose. It is always a good plan to spray
before the buds start in spring, as this
prevents mischief later on. To start a
vineyard new each acre will require the
following expenditure
600 vines set 8x9 ft 86.00
Plowing, fitting and setting 6 00
Cultivating and hoeing let year 00'.00
Pruning (cutting book to 2 buds) 50
Cultivating and hoeing 2nd year 7 50
Pruning to one mane 3 to 5 feet long ...100
300 poste 155.00
350 lbs wire (No 11) 7.00
Setting poets, wiring and tying 12.00
Cultivating and hoeing 3rd year 10.00
570.00
Add to shin the value of the land, with
interest and taxes, and you have the coat,
at three yore. Under favorable condition
the crop the third year will pay the coat of
Cultivation and harvesting. With the
vineyard in full bearing a orop of 600
baskets per acre would be worth at 1270
per basket 875. Itxpemes out: baskets
512; picking, packing, etc., 515; pruning,
cultivation, spraying, repairs, etc., 530;
leaving 818 per acre profit. The Concord
eeme to be the only variety that will sell
n unlimited quantities. Other varieties'
are wanted only in a small way.
Directions for Home Cheese Making
Strain the milk into a vat and add half a
pint of rennet to 100 gallons of milk,whioh
should bring the curd in one hour when the
temperature ie at about 80 degrees. Stir
the rennet and milk thoroughly. Many of
the unknown troubles of the amateur cheese
maker arise from the use of i11•oonditiooed
0nnet ; if doubte as to its purity exist, it
hould be filtered through a flannel or cot.
ton fiber. Ae the condition of rennet,
quantity of intik and temperature vary at;
nearly every cheese making, the prepared
rennet tablets sold by dairy supply houses
are undoubtedly more certain in reoi lte.
To the beginner, a thermometer accurately
graduated ie essential to gumtree. The curd
is out into ono inch squares immediately
after it hap formed,to hasten the separation
of whey and curd. Tho cutting is: repeated
wo or three timesat half hour intervals,
and then dipped carefully into a basket in
whioh a strainer has been placed. Arrange
the basket ou a ladder over the whey re-.
ooiver and out the curd occasionally to,
hasten draining. When compaetead.fairly
fres from whey, tic the strainer. 'ends by
opposite corners and hang in a cool pleas
until the morning run is made, Proceed
with the rnorning'O mills precisely in the
same way until ready to hang. This ourd
requires a little more draining that it may
be firm and deoidedly free from whey.
Cut the night andmorning curds in
slime, place in bowl and chop into pieces
a half inch in diameter. Pour over the
ourde a gallon of hot whey or water and
stir until a equeakiugsound is made. Drain
off the melding water, add' salt to, taste and
thoroughly mix in the curt. Placa a dry
strainer in the hoop, carefully idtrodu0e
MIS curd, fold the strainer neatly over the
top, put the follower on and consign to Oho
press. Only enough weight ahould be uaod
to nicely consolidate the cheese and preps
out the small remaining portions of
whey. If placed in the 'press in the
Morning, at night tarn the ahem,
oubetitute a fresh, strainer, the next day
remove from the press, butter rho sidee,top
rind bottom, and place on an odorless board
in a eoo1, airy place to cure. Four w.eoke
for miring le pooeeettry, and during this
time the cheese should be turned daily and
buttered if luolinod to adhere to the board,
Ao choeee is liable to expand, a band of
strong 91oth should be drawn and Pawed
tightly around ft to obviate oraoling,
A Lesson From English Farming',.
"J,ike pauses produce like resnito..'r
While the agricultural conditions in ono
country are never exactly the some se those
in another, we oan get many helpful sup,
goetiono from the exporipnoeo of farmora
in other 'Linde. Au offioiial investigation of
the agrloultural depreoeion in GreatBrltain•
Is being carried on, A report of the
agrioultural condition in 1orkshlre eon
tame many suggestive statements, Ono 0f
these relate to the great advantage which,
comes to the farmere from 'having good
local markets beano of the iron and coal
mines and many manufacturing pities in
the attire. There le a large variety of pro.
duct from the farms, in good part deter.
mined by the soil, in 'part by the local
market conditions.
The size of farms variao much;; from 150•
to 180 acres is the rule near largo towns.
Where bill grazing land io the chief part of
the farms some reaoh 2,000 auras. In con.
tract with Pomo other parte of England,
meet of the tenants onfarms under 350
aures are properly classed as "working
farmers," many of the smaller farms being.
worked by the family of the tenant, 0.0 it•
io the custom with both tenants and owners
In this country. While it is found difficult
to rent the large farms, those of 250 acres
or less are much in demand. The average
reduction of rent in sixteen years has been
about 30 per omit. much less than in many
other counties of England.
The advantage of home markets ; of
reasonable diversity of produots;of farms.
of moderate size ; of direct personal
management by the farmers instead of
relying on agents or foremen, as well 40 the
importance of adapting the productions of
the farm both to its natural capacity and.
the market conditions—these ars things to
be considered by farmers in this country
as well as those in England.
AN OLD MAN'S CRIME.
The Stranger Whom Ifo murdered- for
Money Was Ills Own Son.
The Wilna papers report a shocking
drama enacted in that city a few days ago
A man who, as a youth, had emigrated to
the United States many years ago, and
there amassed a considerable fortune,
returned a fortnight back. Hie appear
ante was so much changed that hie old
neighbors, with one exception, failed to
recognize their youthful acquaintance. The
exception was an old friend of the family,
who was leaving Wilna on a short absence
by a departing train just as the young
man alighted. Finding himself unrecog-
nized, the ytoung man spent a few days
loitering about hie old haunts and Molting
up information of his father and sister, the
latter a very pretty girl whom her brother
had left as a mere child. One evening he
went to his father's house during the
latter'e absence. His sister was greatly
attracted by the strange guest who had so
many interesting experiences to relate, and
they supped together. The brother feign-
ing fatigue, begged to be allowed to remain
over night, as he had something of im•
portance to say to the girl's fatner in the
morning.
The sister, though somewhat surprised
at the request, consented, and prepared his
sleeping apartment. On her father's late
return the girl informed him of their unex-
pected guest, and dilated, unfortunately,
on the stranger's wealth. The old man's
cupidity was aroused, and during the night
he stole into the guest's bedroom, and .
murdered him in his sleep with an axe.
During the next day the old neighbor, now
returned, who had recognized the young
man at the railway station, came with a
number 0 friende to hear news of their
emigrant relatives in the States. "Where
isv" h i d f h d
7000 000) a nutreqo t e mor ever.
"Whose eon ?" asked the latter, with
blanching face. "Your own boy,"said the
neighbor, "who returned some days ago
and has inade a fortune. Did he not sleep
here last night?" Suddenly the whole
horrible truth flashed upon the unhappy
father, who rushed off to the scullery where
hie son's body was hidden. He ie now in
prison, but it ie said his re0aon is shaken.
Practical
Farmer Jones—What hey yer liana
at yer oollego, son ?
Son—Why, dad I I oan throw the
hammer further than any one there."
Farmer Jones—That a good. 1 guess
yer'Il hey no trouble in gestin', er job in or
blacksmith's shop then.
American Lawlessness.
The "toughest" town in the United
States to -day is Lemont, only twenty-five
miles from Chicago. It had five thousand
population before work en the drainage
canal began ; now it hes nine thousand, of
whom four thoueand are gamblers, thieves,
turderore or disorderly women, There or
one hundred saloons, forty gambling
houses, twenty dance houses and three
theatres, all supported by the five thousand
men woriting en the drainage banal.
Everything is running "wide open" and
licensed.. Mayor McCarthy says the money
la used in etreet improvements. Within
three months, thirty dead bodies have been
found in and about Lemont, and no one has;
been punished. Ten bodies have been
found in the rooky' channel of the oanal,
and five were shot in affrays. Of the
thirty .dead, eighteen are marked " un.
known." "Smoky .Row", is the toughest
street in Lemontt. The saloons and dance
honeee bear such names at these : "Xing
of Hearts," "Sweet Aliso," "Little
Canino" and "Bon dolt,"