L’:ï¬ffl‘ffl!tmu'lmnï¬ï¬y'flrqï¬mwgï¬QT’L'â€'2'} . tertiJ'YC‘? . .n 3.- . y. .~,i...n,~..m.au.m<.mmgummmm.=mxm~amu " times when you have asked ques- ; might have the advantage of good 3 schools. ' to Ashton, Rhode Island, where I i went to look after the family lot THE MYSTEBIOUS KEY I OR, PLANNING FOR THE FUTURE. W .W..ur_u.mmuc.mâ€"p .< .w. ., _ __,_‘ ._,,. _ WAD...“ ._,,..-... m 0...... ‘w .M w-.~m-_.- ...-,.,.s..s... s......w___.._......_~..,~...~._ .- ... him, and his search amount to noth- in . I‘lnally he found the date he was looking for, and then slowly scan: ned the page and the names record- ed under it. Suddenly he started, and an expression of mingled as- tonishment and dismay swept over his features as he read those of Aldren Bronstcrn and Miriam Harris! This was like a blow in the face of our hero, and he sat staring blankly at the entry, both color and courage forsaking him for the moâ€" menlt. “ll-"ell, this beats me!†he mut- many ï¬ne old trees that graced its streets, seem like a beautifully i1- luminated picture. A brisk walk of ten minutes brought Gerald to the entrance to the cemetery, when, entering, he threaded his way through the var- ious paths, until he ï¬nally came in sight of the old Winchester lot. The moment his glance fell upon +0 it, he stopped short, an exclama- tion of astonishment bursting in- voluntarily from him, for it was in the nicest possible order, and showed, evidences of thoughtful, cvcn loving, care, and the expendi- ture of no small amount of money. CHAPTER II.â€"(Continued). “Ah! then there was a wedding- _ringl†interposed Gerald, glanc- mg up from his reading. He arose and went to the table, where he eagerly looked within the envelope from which he had taken the papers. ' Yes, in one corner there was a small, but heavy, hand of gold, and upon the inside he found engraved the initials, “A. B. to M. H.,†to- gether with a date which corres- ponded with that upon the certi- ï¬cate~April 10, 18â€"â€". “Surely, everything indicates a bonaâ€"ï¬de marriage, and I cannot under-stand why my mother was de- serted in such an apparently heart- less manner,†he muttered, his face gloomy and overcast; “everything, 11p to the- moment when her hus- band left her, seemed straight- forward and sincere, and it was not like him to basely desert any one like thatâ€"«least of all a wife whom it; cannot be doubted he loved. It is the greatest mystery in the world!" “It certainly seems so,†said Lady Bromley, wiping her eyes, for she had been quietly weeping over the. sad story of the poor, wronged young wife. “And now,†continue-cl Gerald, again returning to the manuscript, “I have nearly come to the end of my sorrowful tale. I laid Marian away beside her father and mother, in the old family plot in Ashton, Rhode Island; but 1 put no stone at her graveâ€"I could ill afford it, for one reason, and I would not record her name there as Miriam Harris. Yet I shall conceal this revelation among other relics in the old ma- hogany cricket which I have charged you always to keep. I have recorded here that I pledged myself that I would never reveal the secret of your birth; but I made a. mental reservation that when you were twenty-one I would conï¬de it to you, with the proofs of your par- entage, and you could then act as you thought best about revealing your identity to Adam Brewster, or his family, should any of them be living and known to you at that time. Once, when you were about a year old, I went to New York, and made inquiries about the Brewster family. They were not in the city, and I have never heard anything about them since. Two months ago I brought you here to New York with me, so that you I am going to do the very best I can for you, my boy, so that if the time ever comes for you to appear as a Brewster, you will be a credit to your name. Some time I am going to make further inquir- ies regarding the family.†The letter stopped abruptly here, but was resumed upon another sheet, under a later date: “I have just come from a visit in the cemetery. Sometimes I think I have a trouble which may take me off suddenly, and I wanted to be sure the place was in good order, and to tell the sexton where to lay me when I am carried there. I am rather sorry that I did not put some kind of stone at Miriam’s . grave; but if you ever ï¬nd this, ‘ you can act 3 about the matter, and perhaps you :si-onally, so that it will not look your own pleasure will also look after the place occa- l neglected. You have always been a good boy, Gera.ldâ€"'â€"my pride and my blessing, even if I have seemed sharp and reserved with you at 7 l tions that were dillicult to answer. I thC and Pray that F011 11135 hClbettcr go at once to New Haven, lcunsidcpubly Since his last sad Visit tndency for adventures, or abold, “I believe it is trueâ€"of course, it must be true, and henceforth ,you are Gerald Winchester Brew- ster,†she smilineg replied, and feeling that he would be a noble representative of the family name. “Not at present,†he gravely returned; “not until I have faced John Hubbard in Court, and proved I It had been nicely graded, and a ï¬ne granite border set around it, while, on one side, a small but very taseful monument of the same stone had been erected. His ï¬rst thought, on coming in sight of it, was that he had mis- taken the spot; then he knew by ltercd, a strange sense of defeat stealing over him. “What can it mean? The name on the certiï¬cate in my possession is certainly Adam Brewster.†He drew it forth, and proceeded to compare it with the entry before him. The handwriting was unmistak- the two beautiful willows, which he lling left to ï¬ght for. If there my position. Then the world may know the secret af my birth. But,†with a deep sigh, “I cannot underâ€" stand my fat-her’s unaccountable desertion of my mother. If I thought it was premeditated, I be- !lievc I should be tempted to repud- iate him, and refuse to hear his name.†“It certainly is a tantalizing mystery, but I sincerely hope that it will some time be solved to your satisfaction,’ said his friend earn- estly. “I fear not, but I would give the world, if it was mine, for even a sign that he was true to her,†Gerâ€" ald remarked, and little thinking how soon his wish was to be granted. .__.___. CHAPTER III. The next morning Gerald had a long talk with Mr. Lyttlet-on, Lady Bromley’s brother, by whom he was employed, regarding the astonish- ing discovery which he had made, and the man at once threw himself, heart and soul, into the work of sifting the matter to the bottom, and, if possible, overthrmving John lHubbard, who, from the ï¬rst, .he had believed to be a scheming scoundrel. It promised to be a very interest- ing case, and, like an old war-horse scouting the battle from afar, he became all alert and eager for the fray. - “We will make that rascal squirm in the most lively manner, before we get through with him,†he grim- ly remarked, with an anticipativc lchuckle, while talking over the modus operandi which he intended to pursue. “You appear to be very hopeful of the issue,†Gerald smilingly ob- served. - “I only wish I could feel half as sure of winning my sister’s case i for her,†Mr. Lyttleton replied, al frown of annoyance sweeping his brow. “Have you any newsâ€"are there more complications to be met ‘3" the young man questioned. “No; nothing that really am- outs to anything; but the English are so conservative, and, of course, the sympatliics,of an English jury are likely to he enlisted in the inâ€" terests of their own countryman. Lady Bromlcy is an American. and that fact is against her, while the relatives of her husband have the characteristic ‘bulldog’ grip, and! will never let go while there is a foot of ground or an English shil-: had i only been children, everything would'easily have been settled at the outset. It’s a great pity that Mabel couldn’t have given Sir Charles an heir to the estate," Mr. Lyttleton concluded, with a sigh. The case had been held in litigaâ€" tion so long, and was continually being def-erred for what seemed to] him no reason whatever, he. wasl becoming somewhat discouraged and growing tocfear that his client was being subjected to the “freez- ing~out process.†“However,†he added, brightenâ€" ing after a moment, “we will dive, into the case of Brewster vs. Brew-' ster with a right good-will, and we must proceed, forthwith. to gather our facts and evidence. l l Yo u h ad lgarding what step, if any, to takol prospered in life. and ham (1 1131* as you have planned, and look up 'Pier 10"! than felhto .YOhI' lhOl’th'- the record of your mother’s mar- I may add something more to this, i ringe, which, if found td col'res- but think it doubtful.†lpond with the certiï¬cate, will That was 1111. hhl‘ th“ PathO-‘S ufigrcatly strengthen your case. Study the 1118i) {01" Pages had hC‘?“ V011": carefully the record of marriage . 7 _ ' H ‘ . . . . . touching, and Gerald s voice waslmtentlons, also, tor, of course, 0119, he‘will C(‘xrroborate the other.†So Gerald started immediately. for New Haven, where his fairl young mother had spent most of her; life. and become the heroine of the! sad romance which he had learned! only the day before. ‘ Upon his arrival, he went. directly to the oï¬ice of the city clerk, where he called for the marriage records of the year which appeared upon the certiï¬cate in his possession. Can all this be true?" be ex- When the ponderous book was placed before him. his heart began to quake with the fear that dis- appointment might be in store for husky, his lips tremulous. as concluded. “Aunt Honor was a- noble wo- man,†hc said; “I have never real- ized how. much she. must have sucâ€" riï¬ced for me until now. 1 shall go~to New Haven to-morrow, and after I have examined those rec- ords I will hasten to Ashton, to visit her grave and my mother's, both of which shall no longer re- main unmarked. Oh, Lady Brom- ley ' claimed, ‘as he refolded those close- lv J written sheets, “or have I only the night previous, while the foliage , made the thrifty little. ham ling so 002in in the shadows of the 3H9; had so admired eight years ago, and which were the only one in the grounds, that he was right. (To be Continued.) 7 _>A< MAN IIATERS IN ENGLAND. ably the same, both upon the book and the certiï¬cate, and yet “Adam Brewster†was inscribed upon the one, and “Aldren Bronstern†upon the other, too plainly to be misâ€" taken. The latter had a very German look and sound, and it was an in« cxplicable mystery to him. - He then examined the record of marriage intentions, with the same resultâ€"that queer-looking name stared him boldly in the face wherâ€" ever it had been necessary to enter it. “It certainly seems as if I am to be handicapped at the very outset,†he said to himself gloomily; “no court would ever admit the authen- ticity of any certiï¬cate which I might produce in the face of such counter-evidence as this. But,†with a start, “where did John Hub- bard ï¬nd that record of Adam Brewster’s marriage to Louisa Simpson ‘2 He claimed that they were married on the same- day, and in the city of New Haven; if that is so. I ought to ï¬nd the entry here.†And with this thought in mind he began to run his ï¬ngers down the T} H _ I page. I m papers alluded to hei case as Ah! a few lines below he found it 3†“hâ€th '9th But 111_ l‘eahty “’0‘ ~Adam Brewster to Louisa Simp- men hOhhng Slmllal‘ "laws are far son, and under the same date. from uncommon, although Compara' His heart sank like a lump of lead Ihi'v'cl)’ few Carry their mah'ha'tlhg in his bosom. He could not underâ€" ‘mimla to such extreme lengths. stand it, and he was bitterlydis-l There was, however, a lady who appointed at this unexpected frus- quite recently advertised her abho- tration of all his hopes. , .rcnce for the opposite sex by pub- But he made a copy of both cn-[licly refusing to accept a legacy tries, and then, with a- feeling oflwhich had been left her by a male deep despondency, left the oflicc,lrelativc. Her servants, too, were fearing that his journey had been all females, including her “coachâ€" all in vain, and that the puzzle man,†who was, up till the middle would never be solved. ' of last year, a. quite wellâ€"known A i “‘0 know» it had heell his. 111- ï¬gure in the West End of London. tention to keep (on to that littlc' In Bloomsbury, again, there lived, town in Rhode Island where his 110',- long ago, a, woman shopkeeper, aunt and mother were buried. Haw)“, chained to supply men custom- . . . I had never Visited the place smeciers, 0,7, rather, “ouchbe men Gus- Miss Winchestcr’s bodysvas takenltommls‘ on any germs whatever. the“; EDT Intel‘mchtv (ï¬ght 3'93†Her cstablishmcntlwas a small one previous, and, after reading her of the kind usually known as 3; {Offer} file" If"? that, 1.10 “general shop.†and the eccentric it'lh‘ï¬m 293111235511‘15“ l‘g‘umhg yupprictor used to sit in a little {jut n V' .‘ r 1., 1. , parlor in the rear. ‘. _ m“ 1‘1 Ht“ 0 “frugal-h If a man, not knowinrr her rule pomtmcnt, he had no heart for any _,,t “,1 . "tad k 1-? 1 ’ other enterpriseâ€"ho was eager to (, lot/q“ £1011)“; Ill-ocfmgs 0,11 tlle return directly to New York, to gnzntkh m 6;, ‘9 evict any lep y' confide the result of his trip to Mr. u. ,9 fme‘li 519 0““ sex, no mat‘ Lyttleton. and consult with him rcâ€"i 0-] 1,0“ mm†lung her appearance might bo, or how shabby her dress, she was graciousness and punctual- ity personiï¬ed. Would Not Reecch Letters With King's Road on Stamp. There died at Hackney, England, the other day an elderly spmster named Harriet Evans, who possess- ed the distinction of being probably the bitterest man-hater that ever lived. So far, indecdtdid she carry her dcstestation of the opposite sex, that she refused to receive letters because the stamps bore the King’s head. For the same reason, she would only use coins with Queen IVictoria’s effigy upon them. All other money she threw into the ï¬re as soon as she received it. She de- clined to deal at shops where male assistants were employed, and, when advertising for apartments, she invariably stipulated that there should be no man in the house. next. ,Hc had even turned his steps toâ€" ward l-hc station, with this purpose in view, when some inward monitor prompted him to stop and reconâ€" sider his ‘(l‘cterminatioir “Since I have come so far on the way, it seems a pity not to keep on,†he muttered rcflcctivcly; “it will only delay me one day, and I may be tempted to continued pro- crastination and so neglect my duty altogether. .It is selï¬sh of me to, think of only my own personal ins] terestsâ€"mo, I will go on, make arâ€" rangements to have the lot well I |X<___h______ Hilli‘ll‘ii'lfl 0f? WORN BEDTS. (Iothnrnology' is Latest Mums of Judging Character. .l‘almistry, phrenology graphology and all other methods of judging character seem destined hence-forth to take second place to cothurno- logyâ€"«the science of worn boots. According to a Swiss doctor, worn shoes give far more reliable indi- cations than the lines of the hand, cared for in the future, witlmutl ,, I, I ,. (buy-mg. over it any buggy, and tie franues of the'face, or the * ‘ lstyle of the handwriting . so have my crmscience at rest about, . It heel and sole of the shoe are the matter." I | Having arivcd at this decision, he - equally “Um abbey two months,’ resolutely faced about and proceed- lwcaf‘v the wearer 15 ah energeth ed to put it into execution. hhSmCSS ma“; 3- trhshy Glllploye) 01‘ It was late in the evening when a" fxccuent “he 01' 1110511915 he arrived in the little town of Ash~ If the 80h" “5 worn on the 'OUCBI‘ tun, which, however, had grown edge, the wearer has a marked l to the place. and he thought itlfh’sf'mutc Smut" , would be useless to go to the vil- It the “'em'lhé’; 13 Oh the '.in3ide lagc comet-cry before morning. edgea h? is a Sign Of h'l'CSOhltion and He made his way to the one small weakness in a hm“; lhOdeSty in a hotel which the town boasted, proâ€" W‘mliln- cured his supper, and then retired,l The im'CnlSOl' 0f the methOd has but feeling far more weary than iflput his views to practical test, and he had labored all day long in the on one occasion, having closely ob- ofï¬cewso susceptible is the body to lservcd a. stranger entering his the action of thc_mind. lhousc, noticed. that his shoes were He slept heavily, but awakened Iworn on the outside edge the tip of early, and immediately arose, for he the suit? being roughened, while the was anXIous to get through with hisircst was still as good as now. He bhsmess and rcf’thrh l†NCW York‘was convinced that the man before 81350011 513 DC’SSlth- ' him was a scronndcl, and on the It ‘VaSthe month 0f00lÂ¥0h01'- The very same day the individual was l morning was bright. the air clear arrested for theft. and keen, from the slight frost of -_____.-_-.p . ' I I“ J . r . . ' hmllmnt [.. I. \l l;\. ‘ qumsh" th'†m inc-r. to heall thing‘s to 1.,» ALL†everywhere was thousand with a l which E " lie v. . ’Ui 134,2)- "le5. $1()0,0=’)=’J.000. nest- Hill I‘m-u ’.‘.“liull.\' cmlg by hping not†. they know of other 0n the Farm SEEDING FOR OATS. The quantity of oats to sow per acre must be regulated by condiâ€" tions. In discussing the question Wallace’s Farmer states that early oats having a short grain and hence more grams to the bushel require lighter seeding than the late varieâ€" ties. If the bushels are determined by weight rather than measure, more bushels are required of well cleaned oats than of oats as they come from the machine. Again, the earlier the seeding, the more seed required, because .the less time and opportunity for shooting. Still further, the richer the land the less seed is required because of the greater stooling on account of the more vigorous growth. The poorer the land, the less stooling there will be; hence the larger the amount of seed necessary. Much also depends on whether the oats are sown with the main object of securing a grain crop, or whether the farmer wants to make sure of a stand of grass and is usâ€" ing the cats for a nurse crop. In the latter case he should sow just enough oats to keep down the weeds. This, again, depends on the cleanness or foulness of the land, and also on its fertility. There are lands in which a bushel to a. bushel and a half of oats will keep down weeds. There are other lands in which it will take from two and a half to three bushels. Once more much depends on whether the oats are drilledl or sown broadcast. If the seed bed has been thoroughly and properly prepared, drilling will save half a bushel of seed to the acre, because it puts them in at an even depth and gives all an equal chance to grow. Whereas if they are sown broad- cast, uhcre may be weather con- ditions which will start some of the oats a week ahead of the rest, and these last will have a feeble growth and be overshadowed by the stronger growing. These are the things which the farmer must consider. No one can advise him. In a general way we would say that from two to three bushels of the earliest oats drilled on well prepared ground will give a satisfactory yield. If we were seeding for grass we would use the smaller amount. If seeding late oats \Vl~.l no question of grass, if they were well cleaned, we would put in from three to three and a. half bushels. Sometimes a higher yield is secured by four bushels; but in our judgment the difference 18 not sufï¬cient to justify such heavy seeding. ALFALFA POINTERS. Among things to be avoided, if one expects to succeed with alfalfa says Bulletin No. 305, of the Geneva N. Y. Experimental Station, are wet soil, sour soil, shallow s01l, adulter- ated seed, dodder-infested seed, seed of poor vitality, seed from warmer, irrigated lands, and weed seeds in the soil. Factors that aid in securing good yields are thorough preparation of the sod, usually best begun the year before _by planting a cultivated crop to which a liberal application of stable manure is made, and good dodder free seed, usually sown Without a nurse crop, and put in after weed seeds have been worked out of 5011. In most cases, the use of half a ton to a ton of lime to the acre, and of 200 to 300 pounds to the acre of soil from a successful alfalfa ï¬eld, W111 prove proï¬table, and one or the other often changes a failure to a SUCCESS. ‘¥ THE WORLD’ S WEALTH. To possess all the gold 1n the world would appear, to most people, a terible burden; but, pro- viding it was suflic1ent-ly insured, it would be little or no trouble. A rough estimate places the value of a cubic yard of gold at $10,000,000; so that all the‘ gold 1n the world, if melted into ingots, could be con- tained in a collar twenty-four fee-t square and sixteen feet high. All the wealth so far olst-aln-ed from Australia and California could be comfortably tucked away in your ofï¬ce. All that would be required would be an iron safe nine. feet square- and nine feet high. ’10 give an idea of how small is, the llttle cube ofyellow metal, rt may .be stated that the gold With which Solomon overlaid the “most holy place"â€"â€"a room only thirty feet squarm-amounted to more than _â€"-â€" _ ..... ,,_. 'i.=.:: men lose a lot of valuable laining some of‘tlzc things . '5:pi‘:. ‘\‘. Vim-c (‘XD p: