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LOVE’S LESSON.
Ye-: Love passed t>v ray road one day
And pan*e<l a little hour.
Laughing. he leaned l**-ide my door
Where rose* blushed in flow'r.
TANARUS e.> ;ng hands l>e stretch*! to me
Half piteously, half play,
“Nay. give me but one blossom, dear.
And 1 :d me bide alway!”
1 laid my heart within his palm?—
A time" heart, full and free—
And lifledloyal lips to his,
for hoe meant love to me.
And I was bare of all Love’s art—
I only kn.-w to love and give—
A' . i turn taught me wall, sweetheart.
The sequel is to grieve and live!
Ob, "vp jaiured ont like wasted wine.
Oh, k --rs w.thont wile or guile,
I gave the past and all to come.
He—well, he loved me for awhile.
1 w V I not chance my wounded youth.
Nor one hour of the bleak hereafter,
For :#i e to me means Tears and Truth.
A i line to him means Lies and Laughter!
—A>t* York World.
Hlovittna llcuia Srriuto.
AMONG THE PHILISTINES.*
BY MRS. NORA LI I’M AN HUSSEY
CHAPTER XI.
The hours of the night which, according
to Dr. Heyward, was to determine Rob
ert's fate, slipped by with painful slow
ness. The intense stillness was broken
only bv the sick man’s incessant moan
ing. anti by the clicking together of spoon
ami tin dii im-bottles as we administered
to his needs.
As midnight approached I)r. Ileyward
took mi seat by the side id the bed, and
laid hi- hand lightly on Uoliert’s pulse.
A sun',,eating sense of dread and fear
over amp me. I walked to the open win
dow, and a prayer arose in my heart to
Him w ho not only rules the rolling world,
hut keeps His ear attuned to the cry of
His tiniest creature.
A short while after midnight the moan
ing gradually grew fainter, and finally
ceased altogether as the patient fell into
his tirst calm sleep.
“The danger is over,” I whispered,
bending over Dr. Heyward to catch a
glimpse ot Roliert’s countenance.
“That depends u|ron the waking,” he
said; but the brightness of his face told
me how great was his hope. “Throw open
those blinds, will you ? If he awakes when
I think he will I’d like him to see tirst a
bright morning sky.”
I made no answer; but mentally blessed
the doe tor for that tenderness of soul
of which his words gave evidence.
A few moments afterwards he gave me
his chair, going himself into the little room
aero-- the hall to seek the rest he so much
needed.
Me Rhea sat opposite me, watching with
breathless anxiety the changes which
were gradually stealing over the face of
the sleejier. And I watched -Meßhea.
There was no longer any sternness in
his countenance. The old bittternesshad
disappeared, and in its stead there had
come the tenderness which occasionally I
bad seen flash into his eyes.
When the eastern sky was (airly aglow
with the dawn. Robert opened bis eyes
slowly, and, looking up, he knew me.
“It is dawn, Max.”
“And very soon it will be sunrise,
Bob.”
“There’ll be no sunrise for me, inv
boy. ’’
ills voice was the faintest whisper. I
had to bend my head very close to hear
his words at all. And the tears blinded
my when 1 beheld the helplessness in his
eyes.
“Where is Lois. Max?”
“Do you want her now. my boy?”
“Not till she wakes. Poor child!”
Then he closed his eves again, and did
not reopen them until the morning clouds
had flamed into brilliant beauty.
Lois came in softly, and took iny seat at
his bedside; and when he again" opened
his eyes they fell upon his wife, more
beautiful to him than all the morning
glorv.
“f did not intend this, dear,” he whis
pered, closing his fingers over the hand
she laid in his. “1 thought to rid vou en
tirely of a worthless husband.”
“You are not to abuse my husband,”
she said, smiling brightly upon him. “I
cannot let you do that.” ‘ Then she slip
p'd to her knees by his side, and continu
ed in a voice of indescribable sweetness;
“God has answered my prayers, darling.
Night and day I have bogged him to spare
you at least long enough to hear me sav
how entirely I love you.”
The brightness of joy Hashed into his
eyes, then vanished in a cloud of doubts.
“It’s a joor wreck, Lois.” j
“A dear wreck, Robert; dearer now
than when it was a gallant bark rejoicing
in safe seas.”
Mcßhea stole out of the room softly;
but she was too absorbed to heed either
his presence or his departure.
She had never been a demonstrative
wife. This had often grieved me: for
Robert’s patient, unexacting love had been
touching to see.
An expression of unspeakable content !
crept over his face as her hand rested
gently upon his hair; and. with his hand 1
still clasping hers, he dropped once more ,
into ]>eaccful slumber.
Seeing this, and feeling sure that Lois’
good judgment might be relied on to keep
him from all exeitiug talk, 1 too crept !
noiselessly out of the room and joined I
Mcßhea, who was walking up and down j
among the violet beds.
“The Highland summer is altogether !
over, thank God!” 1 said, laying inv hand
on his shoulder.
A tierce light flashed into his eyes.
“Who told you of that?"
“Lois.”
At the sound of hey name the better i
look came into his face. After a few mo- !
ments he spoke in a voice which I had ,
never heard before—a firm voice, infinite
ly sad and infinitely patient. lie was not !
a patient man by nature:
“Yes; that summer is gone, and I sup- i
pose I ought to feel glad also. I guess it j
is consistent with man-nature that I do
not. But 1 shall come to that in time. 1
came very near wrecking Lois' happiness.
For her sake 1 atu very glad she has had
strength of will enough to tight me down.
There can lie no happiness for a wife be
yond her husband’s heart. And yet lam
devilish enough to be sorry that Bob has
conquered. I think, just now, that 1
would give my hope ot eternity for one
look such as I saw in her eyes a moment
ago. It's all wrong, ot course—”
He ceased suddenly, and 1 found myself
at a loss for w ords.
“You will get over all this in time, Mc-
Rhea.” 1 finally said.
“Oh, yes: 1 guess I shall,” he replied,
with returning bitterness. “We of this
geru ration have left our belief in eterpal
love to keep company with our belief in
eternal damnation. Ah, Lesley!” as his
cousin came towards us. “The imper
sonation ot the morning, my dear. How
do you manage always to be so fair and
sweet?"
“1 must not betray the fairies,’’ she an
swered. laughing softly. “This is the
first time I’ve seen you. Mr.Maxwell;but j
1 am 'lire you will pardon and accept :
my tardy welcome.”
“My tea last night confessed tor you ;
that I was not forgotten,” I answered, j
taking the hand she held out to me. “1 j
believe you have unselfishly become the
‘Martha* of the household.”
'“lsn't she the young lady who is record
ed as having had to forego the pleasure ot
sitting at her dear Lord's feet?” Mcßhea
asked.
“Robert is really better,” she said to ;
nit. ignoring Mcßhea. "Oh. lam so glad! .
Ha- Dr. Heyward seeti him this morn- !
ing?"
“I think not. That is, he was still
sleeping when 1 passed the dining-room
door.”
“He has been out of the dining-room
some time—which reminds me that Ruth
sent me out to invite you and Olin in to
breakfast.”
"Will you take a seat with me?” theold
doctor said to me. as he and 1 stood at the
gate after breakfast.
“Thank you; yes. I’d like to ask a
few questions about Bob.”
“Umph!” in a tone not very encourag
ing.
“What do you think of the case?” I
continued, as we turned into the main
road.
“1 think Bob will get well.”
“Yes: 1 know that. But you have told
me nothing about the wound.”
“Well;! can't tell you very much, for
l know almost nothing". He intended to
shoot himself in the head; but he did not
succeed. His aim was unsteady, and the
wound was made along the spine.”
“What will be its probable effects?”
“Bob will never walk another step.”
“Great heavens, doctor! You can’t mean
it?”
“You asked me for facts. I have given
them to you. You must not’quarrel with
me.”
•Entered according to act ot Congress in the
year 1884 by J. H. Kstill, in the office ot the
Librarian of CongreM at Washingtsn.
He was whip ping the buggy wheels. I
could see how troubled he was, although
he answered so curtly.
“Then he has become a helpless burden
upon Lois.” I said, slowly.
“Exactly.”
“Has Bob been able tp save nothing at
all?”
“He is as utterly ruined as a man can
be. If cotton had stopped just one-halt a
cent higher he would have saved about
two thousand dollars.”
“And three months ago the sum would
have seemed a trifle,” I ejaculated, finding
all this hard to realize.
“I’ve been thinking a great deal about
Lois,” the old man continued. “It will be
a hard struggle for her for a time. There's
the music and painting classes at the
Academy. I’m President of the Board,
you know. After this year I can get that
place for her.”
“But Bob? She could not leave Bob.” I
objected, reluctantly.
“She could not begin her duties before
January The contract with the present
teacher does not expire till December. By
that time Bob will be quite well enough to
be left, to Lesley’s care.”
“That relieves my mind about Lois’ fu
ture,” I answered. “But how about the
present ?”
"lhat is provided for. Lesley and I have
attended to that.”
“But Ruth told me Lois had refused, to
accept Lesley’s aid.”
“Ruth isn’t a second Solomon any more
than you are. Lesley’s got more sound
sense in one Unger than your "two heads
contain.”
“That’s fortunate for Lois,” I answered,
smiling. “And now 1 must leave you;”
as we drew near the village. “Will you
tell Mrs. Heyward for roe that I wilftry
to call before the train leaves. lam al
most compelled to return to the Farm at
once.”
But upon returning to the cottage I
found that it was next to impossible to
get off before the early morning’s train.
Mcßbea left that afternoon, at which
1 mentally rejoiced, for by his departure
I was convinced that he had detei mined
to overcome his fatal attachment.”
Once during the day 1 seized a few mo
ments of Lois’ time.
“Did Dr. Heyward tell you about Bob?”
“Yes,” she answered, but with hardly
the sadnesss I had expected. “Yes. lie
told me. lam so glad to have him back
alive and sane that I cannot be quite so
grieved now as I shall be, doubtless. And
besides. Domine,” coming quite close to
me, and laying her hand in mine alter the
old childish fashion, “do you know I am
just the least bit glad *that all my life is
left me in which to atone for the"wrong I
unwillingly did Robert.”
“I don’t understand you, dear.”
“I did not suppose jqu would. There’s
something I’d like to tell you. And if the
time ever comes when you can do so, I’d
like you to tell Olin. Many things have
happened which must have led you to be
lieve that he and I were old lovers;” here
her face flushed, and she spoke hesitating
ly; but, taking courage, she continued:
“I have felt much self-reproach and mor
tification; but I hoped all along that you
would see how 1 was fighting these
things.”
“1 did see,.Lois. I saw it, and 1 felt
daily more and more respect and love for
you.”
“You are very kind, Domine; you have
I always been. 1 knew Olin loved me that
summer. Knowing that, and striving
| against my own fondness tor him, I mar
ried Robert. It was all wrong. I thought
I had overcome this old love; but when I
knew he was coming to the Castle—when
he did come and 1 saw how his love tor
me had not failed, a great temptation fell
upon me, Domine. I think if Olin had
said one word to me at that time, I would
. have forgotten all wifely duty, and every
good and true principle. Afterward,
when Robert came to me in my little
dressing-room, and proved his confidence
in me and my loyalty by trustingme with
Liska, all my heart rose up to reproach
me and forced me to confess that 1 had
cheated him—had cheated him of his
most sacred right—a wife’s perfect love.
And afterward, when misfortune fell
upon him, and I saw how he sorrowed for
me and not himself, and how he looked to
me for that loving sympathy which a hus
band has a right to expect from his true
and loyal wife, all my heart rose up again
to condemn the girl’s fancy which had so
nearly ruined my married happiness.
And when death laid its hand upon my
husband, and, even in that hour, I saw
that his wife was his only thought, I
knew that at last L could give him a wife’s
truest love if God would raise him up to
forgive me. It is these things which
make me glad that I shall be able to
prove to Robert that my love for him is the
last and best love of niv heart; that it is
no girlish fancy; but a love which can
endure privation and sacrifice and labor
if these things will add to the peace or
comfort ot its object. I felt that I could
not stand before you satisfied that I had
lost nothing of womanly purity and truth
until I had told you these things, Do
mine. And 1 cannot be satisfied”—los
ing something ot her trembling hesita
tion—“until Olin knows that not one ves
tige of theold fondness remains.”
“He knows that already, my dear. He
and I spoke together this morning, and I
am sure that he feels his old power to be
dead. I am glad you have told me these
things, Lois. Not because I needed any
confirmation of your truth and womanli
ness, hut because I have been tempted to
believe that God’s providences are hard
upon you. Now I am satisfied, for I
know that nothing but losses and afflic
tion could have brought about this happy
result. Now let us talk about other things.
Dr. Heyward says he can secure you a
situation in the Academy if you will ac
cept it.”
The brightening face was my best an
swer.
“Well,” I continued, more cheerfully,
“that is arranged then, and you are sure ot
a good monthly salary next year. He said
too that you had means sufficient to tide
over the time till next year. Have you?”
“Yes,” she answered, unhesitatingly;
and, as she proceeded, 1 blessed God lor
Lesley’s practical sense. “It seems Rob
ert had a small sum deposited in the ltys
foth hank; that is to say, it would have
been a small sum in otherdays. It seems
a fortune to me now.”
“That is indeed fortunate. Will Lesley
remain with you?”*
“Yes. You know we have as great a
right to her as anybody in Scotland has.
Her lather and mother died years ago;
and the brothers all have large families
now.”
“Has she any property, Lois?”
“Not a great deal. Her father was a
younger son, you know. I think her in
come is not more than five hundred pounds
a year.”
“A pretty comfortable income in Ameri
ca. She is a really wonderful girl,” 1 be
gan, hut Ruth broke in upon our talk:
“Mrs. Heyward wants you, Lois; and
Bob is fretting to see Mr. Maxwell.”
CHAPTER XII.
When I returned to the Farm I found
everything much as I left it, except as re
garded Liska.
The change in the child was not only
noticeable, but extremely gratifying to
me. The little face .had brightened, and
much of the vivacity which had marked
her manner during the first days had re
turned. Therefore I felt convinced that
sbe was now fully prepared to enter upon
the course of study which I had marked
out tor her.
Recognizing the fact that no Science
stands solitary, but maintains a close re
lation and interaction with every other
science in the department of study, I en
deavored to open up to her mind such a
system of study and reflection as should
make her acquainted with the relation
ship of any one fact of science to the my
riad of other facts in other sciences. ,
This course was especially adhered to
in her historical studies, for the science
of human life has been the last to admit
or to profit by this interaction of sciences.
“History has had the dullest expouud
ers.” I said to her one day, when we were
talking together in the library. "It is a
most uncommon thing to see a historian
acknowledging the interaction of land
and people upon one another’s character
and destiny. Take the Hellenic races,
for instance. Suppose they had settled in
a mountain-bound country of rigorous
climate. What would have become oi the
airy fancies, the poetic conceptions, the
sensuous lieauty of the Greek ideal? As
it was, thev were in the midst of an j
island-studded sea. The soft breezes of
summer wooed them; the calm, unruffled
sea held out its loving invitation to them,
and they went down iq boats to its cool
embrace. Thus was developed a wide
spreading and wealth-producing com
merce with their neighbors. The marble
of their hills, and the soft woods ot the
forest awoke into conscious beauty for
them; and, as a result, we have the Olym
pian gods, Aphrodite, and Pallas and
all the throng which have made immortal
the heights of Athens and the temples by
1 the sea. In the North, on the other hand,”
seeing that she had uot failed to follow
me, “in the North, on the other hand, we
can trace again the interactions of mere
physical with mental forces. Coldness of
I climate and an abundance of mineral
i stores have developed a tbritty race de
i lighting in mining, and in the invention
THE SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, MAY 18, 1881.
! of every imaginable labor-saving ma
j chine—”
! “But the Polish are a poetic and art
loving people, surely,” she protested, tim
-1 idly.
“In a deeply pathetic way to which the
! Greek genius originally "made no ap
proach,’’ I assented. “The hardships of
I climate and the sterility ot their sod made
the northern nations acquainted with
every element of tragedy, aHd—”
Betiding interrupted me.
“The mail, sir.”
“Put it on my desk. We will continue
our talk at sonic other time, Liska. When
you study your history again try not only
to memorize facts; but to find the golden
chain of relationship on which our God
has hung all the facts of His universe.”
As the door closed softly behind Liska
I turned to my mail, hastily glancing
! over my letters and laying aside for more
deliberate reading two"which I knew to be
from Lois and Meßhea.
I . The one lrom Lois I give in full, know-
I ing that no words of mine could so faith
| fully portray life at the cottage:
“Dbar Friesi>—l hare had so little
! time for waiting that I have had to con
| tent myself with the short notes that I
have been sending you all alone; although
I felt they would be as unsatisfactory to
you who would read them, as they were to
me who wrote. Two weeks ago f adopted
the diary plan of waiting to you. For,
though 1 cannot find time every day for a
letter, no day is so crowded that 1 cannot
write you at least a line. In this way vou
can follow our daily thoughts. In fact,
you do, to some extent, live with us, for I
have told my thoughts to the others, and
often, now-a-days, someone will say:
‘Lookout! your thoughts will go to the a"u- j
toe rat.’
“Robert is improving rapidly. Dr.
Heyward’s fears have not been altogether
realized. There has been no paralysis of
the lower limbs; but the injury to the
spine makes it impossible to calculate
what will be the terrible results as regards
either standing or walking. If it were
not lor the incessant annoyance of law
business and the rapacity of creditors, I
should begin, already, to take much com
fort in this new life. I have resolutely
set my face against having Robert an
noyed; and hence, with Bertie’s assist
ance, am trying myself to settle Robert’s
tangled affairs, and sometimes I almost
lose courage.
“Poverty is so much harder for those
who have known ease than can well be
told. But Lesley’s never-failing con
tentment is a great help to me.
Ruth’s occasional impatient discontent is
a help too, strange to say, for it is a re
buke to me, expressing as it does my own
secret, feelings; and I am eonstantly’made
patient and humble by this beautiful
young sister who sometimes finds life
harder than she can bear.
“I can write no more just now. 1 send
my diary to speak for .me.
“1 haven’t time to tell you all the loving
messages that have beeu’sent you. Y'ou
must just remember that your name is
often on our lips, and your memory al
ways in our hearts. lam affectionately
your friend, Lois Conway.”
i.ois’ DIARY.
“4 October 15.—While reading
George Eliot’s ‘ltomola’ aloud to Robert
to-day, these words greatly impressed
both of us: ‘As our thought follows
close in the slow wake of the dawn, we
are impressed with the broad sameness of
tiie human lot, which never alters in the
main headings of its history—hunger
and labor, seed-time aud harvest, love and
death.’
“ ‘lt came very near being ‘death’ for i
me,’ Robert said.
“ ‘Yes, dear. But thank God it stopped j
at love,’ I answered, laying my hand in :
his.
1 “ October I(s.—This has been a trying
I day. Bertie and I have worked" our
weary way through a huge pile of ac
counts. There has been in my heart
much scepticism when 1 remembered
other words in ‘Uomola’—‘and men still
yearn for the reign of righteousness and
peace—still count that life to be the high
est which is a conscious voluntary sacri
fice.’ Do they? Ah, my soul, do they
not do exactly otherwise? ‘And the jin
gle of the guinea helps the hurt which
honor feels;’ isn’t that the truer latter dav
ethies? Not ‘men,’ but the few among
men ‘yearn’ for the holy kingdom, and ac
knowledge the holiest sacrificial life.
’■‘■October 17. —I spoke to Robert to-day
for the first time about teaching. He
gave his consent readily; but I could see
that he became more nervous and low
spirited. I must, hereafter, never men
tion ‘ways and means’ in his hearing.
*‘ October 18.—Lesley has looked some
what sadder for several days. To-night,
after Robert fell asleep, 1 went to her for
a quiet talk.
“ ‘What troubles you, dear?’ I asked.
“ ‘lt is very foolish, of course, hut 1 am
anxious about Ruth. She is letting her
pride keep her from a great joy.’
“• Is it Bertie?’
“ ‘Yes. She will not listen to his pro
posal. I’m afraid Ruth is unhappy.’
“I made no answer, for I felt keen
self-reproach. I have suffered myself to
become so absorbed in my husband that I
forgot my sister entirely. I now under
stand the irritableness which so surprised
me, for heretofore Ruth has had a heauti
ful, even temper.
“How hard it is to look on all sides of
one’s life at the same tune! How easy to
become absorbed in one object to the
neglect of others! Lord, teach me to he
Argus-eyed; and to forget nothing.
“ October 19.—1 spoke to Ruth about
Bertie to-day.
“ ‘Yes,’ she answered, candidly, ‘I
might have listened to him once: but now
1 should always feel that it was a charity
delicately offered.’
“I could say nothing more. Her words
were unanswerable, for my own experi
ence thundered in my ears". Any woman
who marries with any sentiment making
discord in the married love is more than
apt to he always unhappy; or. if happi
ness comes, it will inevitably come as the
price of much sorrow and of sell-humilia
t ion hardly to be endured.
“ October 20.—T0-day I have to chroni- j
cle my first success as a money-maker.
Three weeks ago 1 sent a little sketch to
a Northern paper. To-day I received
from the editor ten dollars. I went at
once to Robert flushed with joy.
“ ‘Don’t do that again, Lola,’ he said,
sadly. ‘That is the hardest life a woman
ever led. You must work, of course; but,
I beg you, dou’t choose that field. I am
glad with you, my dear,’ he added, seeing
my disappointment, 1 suppose. “But 1
am no prouder of you than I have always
been. Will you promise me you will not
try that plan again?’
“I gave him my promise reluctantly;
but now that it is "given I feel a strange
relief.
'■‘■October 21.—We have had our first
frosts.
“I am just now fully realizing the pleas
ure of having only one’ sitting-room. I said
to-night, when we were gathered around
the lire, to have your dining-room and
sitting-room in one draws the family closer
together, doesn't it?
“•It certainly does!’ Ruth answered,
emphatically, as she squeezed between
the Lrtde and our chair. At which even
Robert laughed.
“How strange is the human heart! If
someone had told mo a year ago that I
could find even the most grim endurance
possible under such conditions of life as
these, I think I should have believed him
demented. And yet, I don’t believe we
ever before knew what joys contentment
and mutual dependence held!”
Mcßhea’s letter left me somewhat in
perplexity.
“When this reaches you,” he wrote, “I
shall most probably he in mid-ocean.
Wheii I shall return to America is a
vexed question in my n*ud. Certainly
not before I can bring facts hack with
me. If anything concerning Carevna
comes to my’ knowledge rest assured it
shall be treasured up and the fact hunted
down.
“Enclosed 1 send you a letter to Mon
tani and to Herr Menzel. Vou will very
probably go to New York while she is
there.
“Give my love to Liska. Remember
me cordially to your sister, and to my
cousin’s family. It seems to be a fixed
fact that Lesley is to be of that number.
“If you see Montani, and should feel
any desire to investigate Liska’s history
lor yourself, just ask her incidentally if
she’was ever in the North of England
among the Cumberland Lakes. That may
develop some small amount of informa
tion which you would do well to follow
up.”
CHAPTER XIII.
In January, after the Christmas testi
vities were well over, I made my contem
plated trip to New York.
Montani had arrived and was already
singing with success.
Armed with Mcßhea’s letter of intro
duction, after a few days of necessary de
lay, I proceeded to her hotel.
"The madame will be pleased to see
you,” an overwhelming personage in
; livery and a superabundance of white
i powder said, meanwhile taking a compre
j hensive view of me and making up his
j mind accordingly.
1 Opening the door he led the way to a
dainty boudoir, and ushered me into the
I madame’s presence.
“I am much pleased to see you,” she
said, graciously, offering me a seat near
the little divan on which she partly re
clined. “Col. Mcßhea’s triends are al
ways welcome.”
She spoke with a decidedly foreign ac
cent, and immediately my mind reverted
with some doubts to certain words of
Mcßhea’s—“Liska's mother was au Eng
j lish woman.”
I I thanked her; replying in a way which
I must have gone far to convict me of that
i “sang-froid,” which characterizes men of
! the world.
i In truth 1 was thinking much less of
ray words than of this superb creature be
fore me.
i It had always been one of my theories
| that women never attain to a full perfec
tion of their charms before thirty; and I
had now met the proof of my theory.
She was dressed in a morning robe of
violet-colored velvet, with much old lace
softening the effect near her face, and
falling in cascades to the little sandaled
feet. Her eyes, as they met mine, were
counterparts of Liska’s—dark, velvety,
violet-hued—differing from the child's
only in the added beauty of that firmness
of glance and repose of expression which
come with years and experience. Her
figure was full, regular in its curves, and
beautiful with the free, swaying grace to
which small-waisted, corseted women can
never attain.
Exquisite refinement and tact charac
terized her manner. As soon as I could
sufficiently suppress my admiration, 1
fell under the influence of her easy grace,
and found myself quite “at home” in her
presence.
“You will no doubt be glad to hear that
I have come directly from Liska,” I said,
after a few moments spent in desultory,
complimentary talk.
“I)o you, indeed?” with much apparent
interest; but my keen ear caught the
coldness tinder the tone, and, certainly, j
the glowing color grew dimmer.
“Yes. She is at my home with my sis
ter. We have become much attached to
the child.”
“Indeed? Your interest in Liska puts
me under weighty obligations to you.
Col. Me Rhea doubtless told you that" she
is unfortunate enough to have me for her
mother.”
“Col. Meßhea told me nothing what
ever,” I replied, instinctively falling into
her tone of reserve. “1 accidentally dis
covered Liska’s parentage, and I think my
interest in her dates from that time.”
I used the word “parentage” advisedly,
and felt some degree of triumph when
the steady eyes fell somewhat under my
gaze.
“Is Col. Meßhea still in America?” she
asked, evidently with a desire to drift the
talk to other matters.
“No. He wrote me last just before he
left for an extended tour abroad. He
goes at once to the North of England,” I
continued, looking steadily into her face.
“To the lake country. If lam not mis
taken that was onee your home.”
Her face had grown alarmingly pale;
hut the voice was quite even aud un
changed in its tone.
“Oh, no. 1 spent some time in
Westmoreland some years ago. I was
never there before, and have not had time
to make another visit. I should like todo
so, above all things,’’ she continued,
carelessly. “The scenery will well repay
a tourist any amount of travel.”
“When will you return to the conti
nent, madame?” taking up my hat pre
paratory to a departure.
“Not before spring, I fear.”
“It is possible you will meet Meßhea
then. If you return to St. Petersburg
you certainly w r ill. For I know from him
that he will "reach the continent in the
spring, and his first destination will be
Russia and Poland. It is a sort of Mo
hammedan-like pilgrimage to his proph
et’s tomb, I think. He will go at once to
Lomsha, on the Narew, to Carevna's
grave.”
She turned deadly pale, and leaned
heavily against a chair.
“I doubt if I return atonce to St. Pters
burg,” she said, after a few moments. “I
am most pleased and honored by your
call, Mr. Maxwell,” she added, with a
return of the winning cordiality of tone.
“I hope I may see you again before you
leave the city. There are several little
souvenirs I should like to commit to
your keeping for my poor litttle Liska.”
In the reading-room of the hotel I was
encountered by llerr Menzel, to whom I
had previously Introduced myself, and to
whose loquacity 1 was indebted for much
information.
“1 found the madame charming. It is
not surprising that she should bo ealled
‘the beautiful one.’
“Alii” he exclaimed, removing his
meerschaum. “She was in a good humor
then. Believe me, she is sometimes not
quite so gracious. You mentioned the
lake country?” eagerly.
“Yes. And, incidentally, the informa
tion you had given me concerning Mcßhea
and Carevna’e grave.”
“Ah! She is a keen reasoner. She will
begin to suspect investigation. Many
thanks. Mr. Maxwell. 1 think I shall
find ‘the beautiful one’easier to manage.”
“You did me great kindness when you
answered my questions,” I answered,
smiling at his almost childish delight. “I
had no idea I was repaying that kindness
by endeavoring to gain still further infor
mation from the madame! She is not al
ways so affable, then?”
“There are times when she is the very
devil.”
“She does not look like an English wo
man.”
“And never did. Twelve years ago,
when she was studying at Milan, you
would never have called her English.”
“She must have been quite a girl then.”
“Well—yes,” he answered, hesitating
ly; “I suppose so.”
“When did she first meet Care'vna?”
speaking in a tone of idle curiosity.
The queer little German looked up quick
ly.
’ “Ah!” he ejaculated. “That very win
ter in Milan. A short while before she
made her debut.”
“Did she create much of a sensation at
first?”
“Immense, sir; immense. She had less
finish and more tire than now. Fire always
catches Italians.”
“But Carevna was no Italian, was he?”
“I see, sir; I see!” he ejaculated; and
then asked suddenly: “Are you one of
the Force, then ?”
“What Force?” I asked, laughing.
“Detective.”
It was a hated word. He came closer
and whispered it.
“Oh, no!” I laughed. “Did I not hand
you my card—‘George Maxwell, Attorney
at Law?’ It is only that 1 feel much in
terest in a certain person. And I fear
the madame is doing that person great
harm.’ ’
“So!” he exclaimed, with the long for
eign intonation impossible to be described.
“A young person. Ah, hat”
“Pardon me,” I corrected. “I did not
say a young person.”
“No? Mein lieber Freund, I’ve been a
maestro twe-n-ty-five years,” with the
drawling intonation. “I say ‘a young
person.’ Shall we have a bottle of wine
to help us through this matter? Yes?
That is well. And now, sir.” drawing his
chair closer t<> the little table to which he
had led me, “our Diva requires adroit
managing. She has become conscious of
her power in the musical world. I fore
see that I shall soon be able J,o hold my
own with this ‘beautiful one.’ Tell me
frankly what it is you want to know. Any
knowledge 1 may possess is at your com
mand.”
“But I do not wish to do the madame
any harm—”
“Exactly. Nor do I.”
“And 1 do not wish to appear over-anx
ious about matters which cannot in any
way relate to me.”
“Exactly. I understand. But this is
not the question,” impatiently.
“Will you pledge me your word that
you want a managing power? that you
will not attempt to injure Madame Mou
tani?”
“Injure the madame!” he gasped.
“Mein lieber Herr, wherefore should I
seek the madame’s injury? The madame’s
fame is assured. She numbers her ad
mirers by scores. She is independent
even without the opera. Injure Montani!
Nothing but time and the fading process
of the years can do that, sir.”
“You have quite satisfied me, Herr
Menzel;” when the torrent of words had
ceased. “Will you be kind enough to
tell me all you know of the madame’s
past?”
“With pleasure. Very nearly fifteen
years ago she was a chorus singer in
Paris. A wonderfully pretty little crea
ture, she had everything pretty much as
6he pleased. D’Aubrey was her cashier
then,” with a significant smile. “Her
voice soon began to attract attention, and
D’Aubrey found the best masters for her.
Three years alter she was in Milan study
ing opera. And Carevna became her
slave.”
“And D’Aubrey?” I inquired, as he
stopped to sip his wine and blow away
the tobacco smoke,
“Fell in love with a brown-eyed girl
next, I believe. At any rate she con
quered Carevna, and there was a re-en
actment of the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ come
dy. The summer after her debut, when
all the world was raving about her. the
lovers ran off to the North of England. I
: know that, because 1 was corresponding
with her at the time relative to an en
gagement. She married before sne re
turned to the continent.”
“Married Carevna?” I asked, thinking
with hope of the child at home.
“Married the Count Montani, she
! wrote. ”
“Where is Montani?”
“Echo answers ’where?’ mv friend. He
is reported to have been drowned off the
English coast.”
“Where was she during that winter?”
“How very impatient vou are! We do
not rush through our affairs as you Ameri
cans do. Give me time, my dear sir; give
me time. She remained in the North of
England until the following autumn. In
the autumn, a little more than a year af
ter her debut, she returned to the "stage.”
“And Carevna?”
“Followed at a distance, jealously
watching the reigning admirer. Finallv
Meßhea was elevated to that distinc
tion—”
“Ah!” I interrupted.
“Col. Meßhea came very near to mar
rying her, I believe. Some Inend was
brave enough to open his eyes to certain !
palpable facts in time, however.”
“Do you know anything of a child?” 1 !
a6ked, seeing that he was casting about
in his mind for some forgotten topic.
“Ah! Exactly. Y’ou found mv thought. !
About eight years ago, during the reign j
of Meßhea—everything is dated from the i
madame’s love affairs, you perceive— J
about eight years ago the madame picked !
up a child called Liska. No one asked ,
any troublesome questions. She was ae- \
cepted as themadame’slatest whim.” j
‘•LIow old was she at that time? And :
where did the madame find her?”
“The child was about two years ol age, I
I judge. Madame called her Polish. And
now, Mr. Maxwell, will you, in turn, im- j
part information ?”
“I’ve none to impart,” I replied, good
naturedly. “Except that 1 have under
my charge a child called Liska Carevna,
who claims the madame for her mother.”
“Du lieber Herr Gott!” the queer little
foreigner exclaimed, rising to his feet.
“Consider me your life-long friend, my
dear sir. 1 think I shall find the madame
very tractable in future. Liska Carev
na,” he repeated, slowlv. “It is not pos
sible!”
“Did you know Carevna?”
“Know him! Certainly I did. A noble
fellow. I remember well" how he came to
his death. He was suspected of Nihilistic
plottings. That very little Liska yvas
beaten with thorns because she would
not give information against him. I
was in Warsaw at the time. There was
nothing but death or Siberia ahead of him.
He took matters in his own hands and shot
himself. Meßhea nursed him like a wo
man till he died—the following day.”
“One more question, if you please, Herr
Menzel,” as 1 arose from the table. “To
what place did you direct your letters
when the madame was away with Ca
revna?”
“My letters were directed to Miss Lin
da Beall, Raven glass, Westmoreland
shire, England.”
“And now you must let me thank you
for your kindness—”
“Don’t speak of it!” he exclaimed, im
pulsively. “It has been very selfish kind
ness, I assure you. The madame invited
you to supper after the opera, I hope?
Yes? That is well. I like you greatly,
Mr. Maxwell. I wish you success iu your
undertaking.”
Saying which, he grasped my hand and
we parted, mutually pleased with the in
formation gained.
[to be continued.!
THE FIELD, FA KM AM) GARDEN.
We solicit articles for thi9 department.
The name of the writer should accompany
the letter or article, not necessarily
for publication, but as evidence of good
faith.
NOTES FROM DOYVNUI*.
Mr. Martel's Views on the Fence Ques
tion.
I took occasion at my last meeting with
Mr. Martel to get his views at length on
the subject of the fence law. His district
succeeded in getting the Legislature at its
last meeting to pass a stock law for it and
the adjoining district, and thus out of five
districts in the county two now have the
advantage of that law. The Ordinary
levied a tax on these districts sufficient
to erect a continuous fence separating
them from the others in which the law
was not operative. Mr. Martel, as a mat
ter of course, has no personal interest in
any further discussion of the subject. He
was a warm advocate of the stock or no
fence law at the earliest period of its dis
cussion, when very few persons about him
had given the matter any consideration at
all; and to him, morethantoanyoneelse, I
knew’ the district owed the ultimate at
tainment of the blessing. His quiet ar
guments had gradually converted his
neighbors to look upon a change as a thing
tol desired. Many of these converts of
his appeared upon the scene later as more
vociferous advocates than Martel was,
and superficial observers were apt to at
tribute the final success more to them
than to its true champion, hut those who
knew the facts knew to whom the credit
really belonged. Martel never lor a mo
ment indicated that he thought he had
much to do with it, hut those who had
watched the progress of the movement
knew very well that he w r as the Luther of
that reformation. In getting his views of
the subject recently, 1 asked him what he
considered the best single point of the ar
gument in favor of no fence. After a mo
ment’s reflection he replied that he con
sidered that the greatest benefit derived
from the stock law was in taking away
the prime cause of feuds and dissensions
among neighbors; that in all the older sec
tions ot the State fencing timber was com
paratively scarce and that it was the most
difficult thing in the world to keep up to
the legal standard every panel of the im
mense amount of fencing on the majority
of Southern farms, especially, as is often
the case, where the farm is composed of
many separate fields. To-day, under the
old law, there is not one farmer in a dozen
who has a strictly legal fence; for just as
a chain is only as strong as its weakest
link, so even one defective panel may ren
der the whole fence an illegal one, as a
matter of fact in law’. Stock were quick
to see a place to get over into the field,
especially if the field was green with
grain while the commons were hare and !
desolate. In went the stock,and theowner
of the field on discovering the same, with
more or less excitement, expelled them vi
et armis, perhaps, and sends over to the
owner of the stock (a good neighbor pro- ;
bablv), that if he does not keep his stock !
out of his field he will shoot them or have
them shot. The owner of the field may
not have been aware that there was a de
fective panel or two in his fence, and set
it down that the- trespass was owing to
the viciousness of his neighbor’s stock.
His neighbor, knowing his stock not to
be vicious, and nettled by the rough mes
sage, sends back a reply that is not very
soothing in its nature, and it will he a
very fortunate thing if their hasty and
inconsiderate messages do not lead" to a
difficulty that may not he adjusted’for
years.
Mr. Martel claimed that under the old
law farmers were rafher encouraged to
take the law into their own hands in such
matters, for satisfactory redress was prac
tically unobtainable under it for either
trespass or maiming. In either case,
when carried into the courts, judgment
was obtained at an expense out of all just
proportion to th 6 amount involve;! anil
with a delay that was exceedingly vexa
tious. It made farmers loth to appeal to
the courts for redress in such small mat
ters, and too often the matter of trespass
was settled in a way that for a long time
afterwards proved an effectual barrier to j
friendly relations or business intercourse, j
Occasionally it terminated in bloodshed, j
Now, under the stock or “No Ijence” law,
it would be different, Mr. Martel contin
ued, for It would be prima f*cie. evidence
of non-compliance with the law’ if a farm
er’s stock were seen out ot his own prem
ises. Trespass would he easy to prove
and it would cause farmers’ to use the
proper diligence in keeping his pasture
fences in good order, and, as there would
be'less fencing, it would naturally he bet
ter. It a farmer chooses to keep vicious,
fence-breaking stock, the burden of mak
ing strong fences should he upon him,
rather than upon his neighbors who do
not keep such stock. Furthermore, it was
a very unjust law to compel a tiller of the
soil, who kept little or no stock, to keep
up miles of fencing to keep out other peo
ple’s stock. In his. district he did notex-
Eect to see any further difficulties among
is neighbors growing out of what here
tofore has proved a very fruitful source of
difficulty—trespass.
At another time I shall give his views
on the other points of the argument.
MiUedqevule, Ga. S. A. C v
A ton of bran is said to make manure
worth sl4 50. This leaves its cost for stock
feeding very small. But it is probable the
manurial value is much less when fed to
milch cows to increase the production of
milk,
Kindness on the Farm Does Pay.
Have my brother farmers ever noticed
or realized the great benefit to be derived
| from the daily practice of kindness on the
farm? If they have not, it is fulltime
; they were giving it their earnest atlen
i tion.
Kindness! it is so light, so easilv car
ried about, always at hand to bestow on
i man or beast; and it is a real pleasure to
j bestow it. It leaves such a lasting im-
I pression for good; the recipient always
i meets you with a pleasant welcome, and
is ever ready to return the favor with
| compound interest. Mv own experience
with this article of barter isfco pleasant,
so grand, that I would not exchange it for
mines of gold.
In the morning when I go out the first
to greet me is my dog. He comes for his
“Good morning, Spot,” and a few pats on
the head, then he is my companion on my
stroll about the farm. The next to meet
to meet me are the chickens; they hold a
regular jubilee and we form a procession
and march to the barn. At the gate I find
the cows with their kindly “ba’a.” They,
too, march with the crowd; and when the
crib is reached, a small nubbin and a
handful of corn pays them for their greet
ing. A few kind words to “Blossom” or
“l’ink” attract the attention of “Billy,”
who is eating his breakfast in the stable;
and his loud, cheerlul “mc*ker” tells that
he has heard my voice, and there is no
more eating until Igoup to him and rub
his nose and speak a few kind words;
then he seems content and goes on with
his breakfast. So it is with all the stock,
even to the,timid sheep and the stupid pig;
all seem to appreciate kindness. What
do these dumb brutes give in return ? All
they have got. My dog is so watchful of
my interests that he would sacrifice his
life in their defence. Mv horse seems to
know every word I speak to him. When
I dismount, however distant from home,
I leave him untied, and, no matter how
long I am out of his sight, he waits pa
tiently for ray return.
When I come home at evening I meet
the children at the gate, waiting for me
with eager expectation, and on the poroh
I am greeted by the tidy person and smil
ing ieatures ot my wife. This reception
dispels all trouble and care, repaying a
thousand-fold my confidence and kind
ness. But the profits do not stop here. I
am no sooner announced than willing
hands are ready to relieve me from further
care and labor. Frem the youngest to the
oldest, whether my own family ot* the
help, each tries to excel the other in kind
offices, knowing that their interest and
zeal will be rewarded bv kind and encour
aging words. — Prairie Parmer.
Garden Seeds.
Some statements were made bv the
members of the Massachusetts Horticul
tural Society, at a late meeting in Boston,
on subjects connected with raising and
planting garden seeds, which are worthy
of record in condensed form for our readers.
W. W. Rawson said that a seed grower
always must have two farms, for planting
varieties at a distance to prevent mixing
or crossing. The age of seeds for planting
is important. Some are improved by age.
Cucumbers and squashes will make less
vines or running stems from old seed than
new. Cabbages head better when grown
from seed two or three years old. This
fact, said Mr. Rawson, "he had proved
from experience. Parsnip, beet and onion
seed must be used when fresh. Cauliflower
seed is one of the most difficult to grow;
he would rather pay fifty dollars a pound
than to raise it. J. J. 11. Gregory, of wide
experience, said that good seed is at the
bottom of all good farming. There can
be no success witn poor seed. Onion
seed, grown on clay, is heavier and will
vegetate better than if grown on light soil.
The quality of seeds depends on selection;
he had seen thousands of pounds of onion
#ed raised from small bulbs, wnich could
not give the best crops. In a bad season
you cannot get a good crop, of cabbage
for instance, from the best seed. An hon
est man will not send out poor things. C.
M. Ilovey said that cucumbers lrom old
seed fruit were a good deal better and melon
plants are shorter jointed and flower at
the third and fourth joint, while from fresh
seed they would not give a flower till the
tenth. Oily seeds, like the cucumber,
will keep longest. Mr. Gregory had plant
ed beet seed of some varieties eight years
old and nearly all grew, but there is a
limit. J. Fillebrown had some onion seed
ten years old and beet seed fifteen years,
most of which grew. Good seeds of the
squash family are white inside when
broken, but if dark and rancid are worth
less. Mr. Rawson said those who grow
cucumbers to much extent always have a
number of swarms of bees for fertilizing
the flowers.
Farm and Stock Notes.
An asparagus bed may he made to last
twenty or thirty vears, the plants are
never infested with insects and the crop
never falls.
Sliced carrots and oats figure largely in
the food given ta sheep in Vermont. The
sheep of that State are said to eat more of
oats than of any other grain.
A New York farmer reports raising up
ward of 100 bushels of shelled corn to the
acre on land which had been two years in
clover. Under every hill was placed a
handful of hen manure dusted with lime.
For growing plants a weekly applica
tion of diluted manure water will work
wonders, but those in a state of rest are
better without it; and, in fact, they need
little w ater of any kind until growth be
gins.
Syrup made for feeding bees should not
be too thick, but of the consistency of
newly gathered honey. The sugar mav
he dissolved with either cold or boiling
water: we prefer the latter and are care
ful to have all the grains dissolved.
Putting rings in pigs’ noses to prevent
rooting is a needless precaution where the
animals are to run in an orchard of bear
ing trees. What rooting is and >ne under
such an orchard will not destroy any val
uable grass, and the trees and fruit will
be all the better for it.
Members of the Illinois Horticultural
Society denounce the practice of fringing
orchard trees to produce early bearing,
except in thickly planted orchards, where
the fiual intention is to take out alternate
trees. In this ease the trees to come out
may be profitably forced into early bear
ing.
Because seed potatoes are cheap it does
not follow that it is best to use more seed.
Some varieties have so many eyes that
even w’itli potatoes cut in small pieces
there will be too many stalks in the hill.
From two strong stalks there will be more
merchantable tubers than from a heavier
seeding.
The best way to rid fields of the w ild
blackberry is to let hogs root them up.
They are very fond of the bark ot the root,
although it is bitter and astringent. .In a
neighborhood w’here hog cholera w’as pre
valent it was observed that those who had
the run of a blackberry-infested field were
not sick in any way.
The youngest cow ia the world, to our
knowledge, belongs to Mr. G. M. Jones, of
Cottage Grove Farm. Berkfley Heights,
N.J. The Jersey Ileifer, Galaxy’s daugh
ter (20,001), born on the loth December,
1882, had her first calf March IT, when she
was only 1 year and 3 months old; another
heifer, belonging to the same gentleman,
came in when only 1 year and 5 months
old.
The Jersey cow Princess 2d, w’hich gave
the largest yield of butter ever produced,
was induced to do so by careful manage
ment. She was given "walking exercise
daily and her appetite was stimulated in
every possible manner. Hey yield was
remarkable, being twenty-seven pounds
and ten ounces of butter in one week, or
nearly four pounds per day. As her yield
of milk in twenty-four hours w:as twenty
three quarts, it required only about six
quarts of milk to each pound of butter.
The milk was hut little inferior to pure
cream.
The foreman of an extensive creamery
makes the folio wing excellent suggestions
for butter makers: Greatu can’t swell in
churning if it is shut away from outside
air. There are two great "mistakes made
by dairymen—one that cream must he
sour, and the other that it must be churned
hot. Air the cr t am by frequent stirriDg,
so that the oxygen of the air will ripen
it; churn in revolving churns at about 54
or 55 degrees, and wash out the butter
milk with brine and set the color at the
same time. These are the three great
things for dairy people to know.
The Lancaster Farmer reminds its read
ers that young tFees planted in the spring
should be watched and their form regu
lated by pinching the shoots that push too
vigorously and by breaking off the shoots
which start where branches are not need
ed. A little care given to trees while
young will make later pruning unneces
sary. A graft should be regarded as a
tree planted in another tree, instead of in
the soil, and its growth needs to be regu
lated by proper pinchiug. Often the grow th
from a bud will be very vigorous. If the
top of this be pinched it will become
stocky aud throw out side branches.
“Subscriber” writes to the Indiana
Farmer: “Ilavinz read several inquiries
iu your paper, and also in others, for a
remedy for warbles in cattle. I •will give
you mine. It has been used in this neigh-
I borhood tor more than thirty years, and I
have not known a single instance where
it has failed: Dissolve a quart of salt in
as much water, and be sure to get more
salt than the water will dissolve. Rub
affected parts until the hide is
wet and the hair is thoroughly saturated.
In ten days the wsyhles will" disappear.
This remedy will exterminate the gad ffv
j if they have no other way of propagating.”
A proper temperature is an indispensa
ble condition of germination. This varies
in different kinds of seeds. Barley and
rye will germinate in a moist soil as low
as 10 degrees, or eight degrees abqve the
freezing point. Oats and wheat require
a mean temperature of nearly 50 degrees
to sprout them, while corn, in’ moist earth,
will rot if the temperature is below BO de
grees, Seeds endure the other extreme
also. A sack of corn plunged in boiling
water and kept in it a few minutes will
not be harmed, but a constant tempera- !
ture above 100 degrees will destroy all
chances of germination. Blue grass, even
after the sprout has started, is often killed ,
by the direct rays of a summer sun.
Wood ashes represent all the mineral
elements of vegetable growth and contain
everything the farmer must give his crops
except combined nitrogen. Wood ashes
will vary in composition and value with
the kind of wood and the part of the tree.
I will take the ash of the body-wood of the
beech tree as representing the average of
wood ashes. A ton of such ashes contains
320 pounds of potash, worth sl6, and 105
pounds of phosphoric acid (insoluble),
worth $5 25. Omitting all the other ash
constituents, which have some value of
themselves, the potash and phosphoric
acid of a ton of such ashes are worth
s2l 25. or nearly six times the value of a
ton of fresh horse dung. —Sew York Tri
bune.
A correspondent of the New York Tri
bune writes: “I notice in the Tribune and
other papers statements to the effect that
many sheep are dying this spring lrom a
disease known as grub in the head. The
cause, symotoms and results of this mal
ady are correctly described in the articles
I have seen. If taken in time the disease
is easily cured, but if not there is no
remedy. It is caused by a peculiar kind
of fly, which deposits its eggs in the nos
trils of the sheep in hot weather. These
eggs develop toward spring into grubs,
which eat into the brain and Invariably
produce death. A sure remedy is this":
After the hot. weather is over and the
eggs deposited, make a strong decoction
ot Scotch snuff and asafeetida, and then
inject with a syringe about a tablespoon
ful into each nostril. The sheep will reel
and stagger like a drunken man alter the
operation, but there is no danger. I was
brought up on a farm in New York and
have seen this remedy applied on thou
sands of sheep, and always with success.
The snuff induces the most violent sneez
ing, which dislodges and ejects the eggs.
No sheep properly treated in the manner
described will ever die of this disease.
But when the grub is once hatched and
developed there is no remedy.”
HOUSEHOLD NOTES.
A little powdered charcoal will
cleanse and sweeten bottles if it is well
shaken about in them.
Arrow-boot is excellent to thicken the
gravy to be poured over toast. It has a
good flavor and is very nourishing.
The pretty cotton edging so much used
for trimming children’s underclothing
may lie sewed on with the sewing machine
if you haste it to the under side of the
garment. Sew directly over the basting
thread.
Fish, almost more than anything else,
is improved by slow cooking; especially
is this true when the fish is boiled. If
cooked rapidly it will fall apart and will
neither taste nor look so well. The great
point insisted upon by scientific cooks of
the present day is this’of taking abundant
time to prepare food, and the fact that
nothing is gained by rajiid boiling.
A good recipe for loaf cake is to take
four cupfuls ol sifted" flour, three cupfuls
of powdered sugar, four eggs, one cupful
of sweet milk, one glassful of colorless
wine, one grated nutmeg, a teaspoonful
of soda dissolved in a little hot water:
stir it briskly, so that the ingredients will
be thoroughly mixed before putting into
the tin. I’ut a buttered paper in the tin.
Pretty blocks for a crazy quilt have
different shapes and stylesol fansonthem.
These blocks, and in fact all those used in
the quilt, gain in effect by having a frame
w’ork of black velvet ribbon. This can he
brightened as much as you please by the
use of embroidery silks. Brocade" silk
can be made moreeffeetive, if of one color,
by having the figures outlined with gay
silks.
Really handsome mat's are made of
felt, with borders of daises and of golden
rod, or ot poppies and green leaves,worked
with crew’els. If you purchase the pat
terns so much used now, by which you
can stamp your pattern yourself, the "ex
pense is trifling. Avery pretty mat is of
blue felt with scroll-like border, worked
w’ith yellow. Scarlet and canarv color,
olive and old-gold are all very tastefully
used'together.
A beautiful tidy for the back of a
large chair is made of a square piece of
cloth about ten inches each way; on this
is sewed patchwork of plush and velvet
in the form of a w idespread fan. The
corners of the block are of black velvet,
and on the top, drooping over the fan, is a
spray from a moss-rose hush in ribbon
embroidery. The edge is finished with
lace. This design is pretty for a block in
a quilt or sola pillow.
Custard, to be served in cups with
cake, made by adding three tablespoon fuls
of cornstarch to one quart of milk. Rub
the cornstarch smooth in a little cold milk,
and when the quart of milk is boiling stir
it in; when it thickens and bubbles re
move it from the fire and add the yelks of
four eggs, well beaten, a lump of butter
the size of a butternut, some nutmeg and
lemon. Put it into the cup, then make a
meringue of the white* of the eggs with
sugar and put on the top ot the custard.
The ideal and almost unattainable ice
cream is made by following this recipe:
Two quarts of cream (not milk), one
pound of pulverized sugar, two eggs.
Beat the eggs; then beat the sugar with
them: then the cream. Let this just come
to a boil; then remove from the fire, flavor
with vanilla, strain it through a very fine
sieve, or, if you have none, a clean new
piece of cheese cloth will answer in place
of one. When cool put it in the freezer
and freeze, stirring until it is too hard to
turn any longer.
Procure a vial of oil of vitriol (sul
phuric acid) which will cost about Scents.
Use a glass rod and put one drop on the
article to be tested. Pure fresh yellow
butter will turn almost white, while tal
low changes to a deep crimson red. Lard
gives diversified colors, showing all the
colors of the rainbow. The second meth
od is to melt a very small quantity in a
shallow dish, which should only he large
enough to hold the quantity and put a
piece of wick in the fluid; now light the
protruded end of the wick alxive the sur
face of the liquid, and after it buriis a
few minutes extinguish the flame. By
inhaling the ascending smoke from the
wick the odor of fried butter will desig
nate pure butter, hut if the odor is similar
to that of a smoking candlestick you inav
rest assured it is oleomargarine."— Ph Ha
del phia Grocer.
BITS OF SCIENCE.
Glass is becoming fashionable as a pro
tection to oil paintings, and asasafeguard
against moths and damp the hacks ot val
uable pictures are covered with rubber
cloth.
Dr. Wilson, in the Medical Netcs, claims
to have obtained much better results frorii
the use of th" internal membrane of hens’
eggs for nealing large surfaces in wounds
than Irom either human or rabbit skin.
A paper chimney fifty feet high has
lately been put up at Breslau. Compressed
paper pulp is stated to be one of the least
inflammable of substances and to make
an excellent material for fire-proof doors.
Richard A. Proctor calls attention to
the fact that the late Prof. Draper suc
ceeded in producing photographic plates
showing stars which; cannot be seen
through the telescope by which these
photographs were taken.
Two eases have been reported to an
English medical society in which the elec
tro-magnet has been successfully used for
removing pieces of iron from’ the eye.
Without the magnet it is thought that the
sight ot the injured eye must have beeu
lost in each case.
Animal life is very abundant in some
parV> of the world at great depths in the
s a. This is illustrated by the fact that
during last summer’s explorations by the
French steamer Talisman one haul of its
net brought up, from a depth of 300 fath
oms, 1,000 lisbes and nearly 2,000 crusta
ceans of different kinds. This capture
was made in the Atlantic, near the Cape
Verde Islands.
Card telegrams are much in use in Paris.
There are two kinds of them—one like the
ordinary postal card in form and color,
and the other blue and capable of being
so olosed as to conceal the writing. They
are each large enough to contain a mes-
i 9age of fully sixty words. When a eatv
I is dropped into the card telecram box or
; the nearest telegraph office the qflicial in
charge picks it up and has it transmitted
through one of the pneumatic tubes which
extend all over the city, thus insuring its
delivery at the place to which it is ad
dressed in less than half an hour from th®
time it was “posted.”
Save the spent tea leaves for a few days,
then steep them in a tin pail or pan "for
half an hour; strain through a sieve and
use the tea for all varnished paints. It
requires very little elbow polish, as the
tea acts as a 6trong detergent, cleansing
the paint firom all impurities and making
it equal to new. It cleans windows and
sashes and oilcloths; indeed, any var
nished surface is improved by its applica
tion. It washes window-panes and mir
rors much better than water, and is
excellent for cleaning black walnut and
looking-glass frames. It will not do to
•wash unvarnished paints with it.
The use of catgut sutures and eliicken
i hone drainage tubes is among the latest
| devices for mercifully healing wounds.
| Catgut, being an animal substance, is ab
sorbed, and does not have to be withdrawn
as does silk or silver wire, which have
heretofore been used for sewing up or
stitching cuts together. Wounds drawn
together with c atgut, theretore, do not
have to be inflamed by taking out the
stitches, and are in consequence more
likely to heal by what is known as the
“first intention.” The large bones of a
chicken are decalcified and made into
transparent tubes. These are inserted
where wounds must be drained, and. un
dike the rubber tubing formerly used,
need not be removed, thus aggravating
the wound. Being animal substances
they become dissolved.
To the Biological Laboratory (N. Y r .)
collection of sea anemone some codfish
ermen have just made a contribution of
what Prof. Rice says is the largest and
finest specimen he has ever seen of the
actina. It was at once placed in a tank
and the Professor has been feeding it with
small pieces of meat and chopped fish.
The sea anemone is tie connecting link
between animal and vegetable life. The
sea flower in question consists of a stalk
five inches in diameter and eight inches
in length w hen extended. The stalk is
crowned with a large number of tentacles
in a series of circles, and the whole fo
liated so as to resemble the fine petals of
a pink. In color it is a pale gold. Upon
the slightest touch of the hand the flower
draws in its tentacles, shuts its mouth
and flattens down ujion the rock.
lottrriro.
L.S.L.
CAPITAL PRIZE, SISO,(MX).
** Wb do hereby certify that we snjierriee the
arrangements for all the Monthly and 6errU-
Annual Drawings of the Louisiana State Lottery
Company, and in />erson manage and control
the Drawing* then test re*, and that the name are
cond•oited with honest y, faim and in good
faith toward all jxirtice, ami tee authorize the
Company to use this certificate, with fac-sisnilei
of onr signatures attached . in its advertise
ynents/*
COMMISSIONERS.
Unprecedented Attraction.
Over Half a Million Jlistributed.
Louisiana State Lottery Company.
Incorporated in 1868 for 25 years by the Leg
islature for educational ami charitable pur
poses—with a capital of sl,ooo,ooo—to which a
reserve fund of over $550,000 has since been
added.
By an overwhelming popular vote its fran
chise was made a part of the present State
Constitution, adonted Decern her 2, V. I>. IS7H.
Its Grand Single Number Drawings will
take place monthly. It never arolea or j>ost
ponea. Look at the following Distribution:
169th Grand Monthly
AND THE
EXTRAORDINARY
SEMI - ANNUAL DRAWING
In the Academy of Music, New Orleans.
TUESDAY, June 17, 1884, under the personal
supervision and management of
Grn. G. T. BEAUREGARD, of Louisiana, and
GEN. JUBAL A. EARLY, of Virginia,
CAPITAL PRIZE *150.000.
NOTlCE.—Tickets are Ten Dollars
only. Halves, $5. Fifths. $2, Tenths, sl.
LIST OF PRIZES.
1 Capital Prize of $150,000 $150,000
I Grand Prize of 50,000 50,C00
1 Grand Prize of 20,000 20,000
2 Large Prizes of 10,000 20,000
4 Large Prizes of 5.000 . 20,000
20 Prizes of 1,000 20,000
50 “ 500 25,000
100 “ 300 30,000
200 “ 200 40,000
600 “ 100 60,000
1,000 “ 50 50,000
APPROXIMATION PRIZES.
100 Approximation Prizes of S2OO .. $ 20,000
100 “ “ too 10,000
100 “ “ 75. . 7,500
2,279 Prizes, amounting to $522,500
Application for rates to clubs should be made
only to the office of the Company in New
Orleans.
For further information write clearly, giv
ing full address. Make P. O. Money’Orders
parable and address Registered Letters to
NEW ORLEANS NATIONAL BANK,
New Orleans, La.
POSTAL NOTES and ordinary letters by
Mail or Express (all sums of $5 and upwards
by Express at our expense) to
M. A. DAUTiIIN,
New Orleans, La.,
Or M. A. DAUPHIN,
607 Seventh street, Washington, D. C.,
Or JNO. B. FERNANDEZ,
Savannah. Ga.
lIT&MAi
IS DECIDED BY
ROYAL HAVANA LOTTERY,
(A GOVERNMENT INSTITUTION),
Drawn at Havana, Cuba,
EVERY 13 TO 14 DAYS.
Tickets, $2; Halves, sl.
See that the name Gocld A Cos. is the on
ticket.
Subject to no manipulation, not controlled
by the parties in interest. It is the fairest
thing in the nature of chance in existence.
For information and particulars apply to
SHIPSEY CO., Gen. Agents, 1212 Broad
way, N. Y. City, or J. B. FERNANDEZ, Sa
vannah. Ga.
Ittrdirinal.
POISON
In the blood is apt to show itself in the Spring,
and nature should by all means tie assisted m
throwing it off. Swift’s Specific does this
effectively. It is a purely vegetable, uon
poisonous remedy, w’hich helps nature to force
all the poison or taint out through the pores
of the skin.
Mr. Robert A. Easley, of Dickson, Tenn..
writes, under date March 10, 1884: “I had
chills and fever, followed by rheumatism, for
three years, so that 1 was not able to attend
to niv hnsinexs; bad tried almost everv kind
of medicine and found no relief. A ‘friend
recommended Swift’s Specific. I tried one
liottle and iny health began to improve. 1
continued until I had taken six bottles, and
it has set me on my feet, as sound and well as
ever. I recommend it to all similarly afflicted.”
Eetters from twenty-three (23, of the lead
ing retail druggists of Atlanta say, under
date March 24, 1884: “We sell more of Swift’s
Specific than any other one remedy, and three
to ten times as much as any other blood medi
cine. We sell it to all classes, and many of
the best families use it as a general health
tonic.’
Oar Treatise on Blood and Skin Diseases
mailed free to applicants..
THE SWIFT SPECIFIC CO.,
vv- ,„„ r Drawer 3 Atlanta, Ga.
N. Y . Office, 159 W. 21U St„ bet. 6th & 7th Avs.
W OMAN
Her Health and Happiness are Matters
o f Great Concern to all Mankind.
Near Marietta, Ga.
Some months ago I bought a bottle of Dr. J.
Bradficld’s Female Regulator, and used it in
ray family with great satisfaction. 1 have
recommended it to three families, and they
have found it to be just what is claimed for it.
The females who have used it arc now in per
fect health, and able to attend to their house
hold duties. Rev. H. B. JOHNSON.
State of Georgia, Troup County.
1 have examined the recipe of Dr. Josiah
Bradfield, and pronounce it to be a combina
tion of medicines of great merit in the treat-,
ment of all diseases of females for which he
recommends it. Wm. P. Beasley, M. D.
Treatise on the Health and Happiness of
Woman mailed free.
The Bradfteld Regulator Cos.,
Box 28, Atlanta, Ga.
7