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‘ ‘ ‘z .1 W ? 4-. - w." .. v, I "R‘s ‘« .« ... .s “A, [Jag-4253,31}, ,. 0.. ‘7‘. v. M : on, WAITING THROUGH WEARY 1 ‘YEARS. ~ CHAPTER VI"(Cont’d) and laid her hand softly on the ’ forehead of the sleeper. “1 never heard Of SiCh 3” thing in With a scream she started back. all the days of my life. no, not since That forehead was ice-cold in I was a gal lâ€"as a child like you be- death. - mg 3‘? tOOk'm ! And I don’t see now In a. few moments she so far overâ€" howft “0131‘! a.be°n' And I can’t came her terror and repugnance as hafiflh’ believe It! Why’how 01d be to take the lifeless hand in her own. ye ’ ' , But it was as rigid as marble, and “YOU know» I Shall bCâ€"heâ€"‘Slx' could not be moved from its posi- teen, nextâ€"next Christmas,” sob- tion. ‘ bedM,341'1e~ \ Full of wild horror, Marie ran “Shill you, now? How time do from the house, and up the road pass! And I was thinking as you leading to the village, and accosted was about thirteen or fourteen. the first person she met, who hap- The "Ina-in! BUE it Was my fall’l'o pened to be a countryman. it warn’t your’n. What did you The alarm was soon given, and know? It was my fau’t as should the hut was soon filled with the 8.- took better care on yo. And so 001. neighbors ) l he promised to own you for his wife p A physician {ms called, who pro- fifggnfhiet SEE-3’, dld he’ and kept nounced the case a death from naâ€" p “Yes "’ sobbed Marie. tur‘a'l causes. - . . ’ 'lhen orders were given for it “And he wanted you to follow him Cheap burial at the country’s ex- 50 the City, and leave 1110, did he? pensc. This was adding humilia- lmd he Dl‘OmiSCd to own you them Q” tion to sorrow .in Marie’s case, but . ZYCS-U ‘, she could not help it, forthere were He wouldn’t a kept ms word: not two dollars in the house to meet child. Them devils never kccplt}10 costs of interment their word with a girl who trusts], Two days after, this the body of them. They are liars, and sons of Old Granny Thompson was buried the father of lies. The comfort is and pom. Marie was‘lefb'alone in theyall go home to their daddy at the solitary but. lasi'l’ . She wrote to her lover in the city ; ‘ Oh: Granhl’: he 15 “Oh as badlbut whether he ever received that ‘19 that. He 15 “Oh bat at an- He letter is doubtful; that he never wanted me to go with him, and. I answered it is certain V .Wmfldn’t leave You)” wept Mal‘le- Three more letters were written, “He ‘mnted you to go to the but they suffered the same fate as city with him, did he, and you the first Woumn’t leave file? We“, (You Then Marie gave up writing, and Shall bOth be smiled, you and hlm! sat down in despair to await her You shall go to the city and shall fate. not leave me. I’ll go along of you. We’ll go and hunt up my fine gen- tleman, and make him do ye jus- tice! Breach o’ promise it be! And wery aggrawated at that! ‘Dancin’ bears must pay for their airs.’ And he shall pay for hizzen too. If he do acknowledge ye, you’ll be a rich ’oman and me too ! An’ if he don’t, it ’il be thousands 0’ dollars out’n his. pocket and into you’n an’ mine!” mumbled the old woman. Poor Mariel She had been very much surprised and confounded by her grandmother’s unexpected and hearty sympathy; but here was the sad solution of the problem of her conductâ€"cupidity. The hope of thousands of dollars, that in either case of acknowledged marriage or breach of promise, would come into Marie’s possession, and practically into her ownâ€"-and of the external decencies and comforts those thouâ€" sands would secure to her, and which in her estimation would be splendors and luxuries. Now, she looked upon her grand- daughter as a mine of wealth, and busied herself in waiting on the girl as the girl, until this night, had waited on her. She made Marie lie down on the bed and rest, while she herself pre- pared tea and toast which she per- suaded her to take. “Now you shan’t go up and sleep on that hard pallet in the cold loft. .â€"_â€"â€"â€"a.. CHAPTER VII. Awful days and nights followed for the poor, deserted girl. The dark days of December were upon her. ' Storms of rain and wind and snow followed each other in swift succession. The road to the village became impassable. She was without money and almost withâ€" out food or fuel. She had nothing left to eat but a few potatoes, stowed in the botâ€" tom of the cupboard, next the chim- ney corner, as the warmest place to keep them from freezing. Nor had she anything to make her fire, except the brush wood from the foot of the mountain,, which she would go and collect whenever an interval of the weather permitted her to do so. But oh! the days of misery and nights of horror in that lone moun- tain hut, with nothing to think of but her wretched past and terrible future! Had it not been for the shameful wrongs she had suffered, she might now have been in a comfortable and happy position as nursery goverâ€" ness to some of those children she so dearly loved. And this would have been an earthly Heaven to her humble and loving spirit. And even now, abandoned, as You shall sleep with me,” said the i};:1‘:::i{:g tgfi lgvilnfozoglofi dame as she replenished the fire to could have been’ pardoned {ind pit_ keep it “1" all night’ “.101 then CIOSPd ied, and cared for, a little while, 3’” the comage’ promo“ to ,retlr' by some good Christian woman, she mg‘ .1. would have looked forward to her heavy toad was lutec’ from Ma" maternity with humble, chastened me 5 consolcnce. She had confess- -Oy and devoted her future lifeto ed to that one, to whom of all on i161} child. earth she was only responsible. And Yes She would have been a God she had been forgiven. mothe’r. g If that hard old dame could pity But now, abandoned, scorned, and pardon her, would not the mer- covered with contumely, until, driv_ ciful Lord, much more? She pray- en to despair and madness, she be. cd and fell asleep, and for the first lieved herself to be deserted equal- time in many days, she slept sound- 1y by God and mam 1)’ until mol‘nhlg- Alone in her but by day and When She aWOkB, the sun _W&S|night, for weeks and weeks, with Bhlhlhg through the uncm'taumd‘tho'se demoniac thoughts to tempt, window of'the but. The old woman and taunt, and phrcnsy her, “.116 WIS: 01‘ seemed to he, Still 5519612- can wonder at the tragedy that She arose very cautiously lest she soon followed? should awaken the old grandame, I must get over this part of my and quietly dressed herself, made stay as quickly as I can, for it 1‘s up the fire and put on the kettle. too heart-1-endjng f0r demiy The Chlva Slept 011- It was Christmas Eve, and the She made the corn griddle cake ground was covered 3. feet deep with and put it on to bake. Took a hard frozen snow. The weather smoked herring from its stick and was clear though very cold. put it on to broil, and then set the A farmer’s wife, driving her own humble table for two, and sat little wagon, was going to the vil- down to wait. lag'c that morning to buy some And the dame slept on. cheap toys to put in her children’s Not to waste time, while wait-l stockings that night, ing, Marie £00k 11D 1101' Sl‘andmO-l As she passed along the narrow ther’s knitting. and knitted fOI‘ road that lies between the foot of about fifteen minutes. And still the the mountain ridge and the edge of dame slept on. the river, she came in sight of the “She sleeps later than I cvcr ; but under the cliff, occupied by Ma- kncw he? to do,” said the girl, as'rip Serafinnc, she arose and went to the bedside. And at the same moment, she saw that no smoke issued from the chimney, even on this bitter cold day, and she heard sounds of wild weeping and wailing proceeding from the house. Mrs. Butter-field was, “after the most straitest sect a (female) Pharisee,” so, though she drew up her horse before the hut, she hesi- tated and listened a full minute be~ fore she made up her mind to enter the dwelling of that “abandoned creature,” as she called Marie. But these were Christmas times, and full of all kindly inspirations. So she got out of her cart, and leaving her steady, old family horse to stand and rest, she entered the hut. A terrible sight met her eyes! Marie Serafinne sat up in bed, raving, tearing her hair and accus- ing herself ofwmurder! Before her lay the small body of a pcrmaturely born child. The poor little corpse was frozen stiff. The miserable mother was blue and shaking with cold. for there was no fire on the hearth, and the bitter winds came in at the cracks in the walls and windows- “Oh! you wretched, wretchel creature! how came you to do this dreadful, dreadful deed?” inquir- ed the farmer’s wife, aghast at the sight. . . “I don’t know! I didn’t mean to do it! I didn’t even know when I did it! But then, I must have done it, because there was no one else here, not a soul but me, so of course I must have done it! 011, me! I wish I had never been born!” ex claimed Marie, between her Wild wailings. “Of course you did it, and there’s no use denying it! Oh, you horrid creature! Don’t you know they’ll hang you for it?” asked the vwo~ man with a shudder. “Yes, yes, I know! But that’s a trifle! I’ve borne so much W use than that! But my child! my child l My tiny, helpless child!” she cried, bursting into tears and sobs as she seized and pressed the little frozen body to her bosom. ‘ “I can’t stand this! I can’t stay here!” said the farmer’s wife, beâ€" ginning to feel deep pity mingle with her indignation and horror, and becoming half hysterical from their conflict. “Here! lie down an! let me cover you up, for goodness sake! And tell me, if you can, where I can find something to kindle a fire, or you will freeze and die before you can make your peace with Heaven.” 4 And without waiting for a reply she forced the feeble girl back up- on the pillow, and covered and fucked her up carefully. Then she took the little frozen babe and laid it out decently on a corner of the foot of the bed, and took her own white apron and cov- ered it over. - By this time her fingers were so stiff with cold that she had to beat and blow them, before she could do anything else. She then turned about and found a little pile of brushwood, and a box of matches with which she made a fire. Then she searched for meal or flour with which to prepare gruel for the perishing girl on the be-l But there was nothing of the sort to be found. “Is there anything in the house I can fix you to eat?” she inquired, coming to Marie’s side. ' “Nothing, nor do I want any- thing,” the girl answered feebly. The farmer’s wife groaned. “I don’t know what to do with you; but I reckon I better go at once and see if I can get you a doc~ tor, and some victuals. Now you lay quiet till I come back,” she said, as she hurried out of the house and jumped into her wagon. She whipped up the old horse to. a gait that made him stare. An/ I she soon réachcd the village, when she gave information of the case to old Dr. Barton, the only medical man at hand. Then, after hurriedly picking up the toys she had first set out to buy, she purchased some food and lllll'll- ed back to the but to feed the stirr- ing girl, whom, however, she could scarcely prevail upon to eat. She waited beside the patient un- til the old doctor came, and then she returned to her own family, with the promise to send one of her negro women to take care of Marie Serafinne. ' On seeing the condition of affine at the but, Dr. Barton’s painful duty was clear before him first, to do what he could to save the wrctfli- ed girl, and then to report the case to the proper authorities. And the result of his action was thisâ€"that the same day at noon, the Coroner’s jury met at the hut; and after a brief examination of the evidence, returned a verdict that the child, a prematurely born fe- male infant, came to its death by stangulation at the hands of its mother. Marie Serafinne. The little body was interred at the cost of the county. And a war- V, refiner-mm .....-.~..,-w¢.o..n-a.:~: 4:3finial}m“;33‘f€€kméfié§5fif'f' "'_‘j'_:'~ ‘_ w :1: a, my" w ms-m - . rant was issued for the arrest of mals should not be kept in them Marie Serafinne. constantlyâ€"O. D. Smoad, V. 8. And in a state more dead than aliveâ€"indifferent also to life or death, she was taken from her bed, placed in a carriage, and driven“ to the county gaol at Pine Cliffs. For the first week of her impris onment she lay lingering on the brink of the grave, but by the skill of the prison doctor she was brought safely through the crisis of her ill- ness. On the first day of the New Year she awoke from long unconscious- ness, and asked what day it was. They told her it was New Year’s day. ' She played idly with her thin fin- gers for a few moments and hen murmured: “Only eight months, and all this? I was free and happy in Mayâ€"now I am here l” No one answered her, there was indeed little pity for her. She lay in prison from the last week in December, till the first week in March, when the Criminal Court sat at Pine Cliff. Then she was brought out and put on trial for the murder of nor child. (To be continued.) >3 ++++++++++H+++++++t+Â¥ ++- lire Riff? % WNW+W++H+ FEEDING THE DAIRY CALF. There is no such thing as fixing the amount any calf should be fed in order to grow well, and be kept in the pink of health. Each calf has an individuality, some calves have better digestionand power to assimilate their food than others. Consequently, there can be no such thing as figuring to a scientific nicâ€" ety what amount a calf shall eat. The class of food which when eat- enâ€"providing it is palatable â€" can be well laid down, but there all rules of feeding must end. The feed- ing of calves after they are four months of ageâ€"most calves are weaned from milkâ€"depends again. upon how well they have been fed in their infancy when milk was their chief source of sustenance. Many a calf’s digestion is impaired by feeding on skim milk wholly when only a. few days old, or havâ€" ing been fed cold milk that was germ-laden from being kept too long before being fed. Thus, a lot” depends upon the calf’s condition when you start in to feed them at four months of age. Some may be strong and vigorous, of large size and grow thin by reason of being bred from strong, large parents; other small and weakly from weak vitality in their parents, or of being badly fed when young. In a general way, alfalfa hay and clover hay make, generally speak- ing, ideal roughage for calves the first winter of their lives. All they will eat of this; feed the red clover once a day and the alfalfa once, and one pound of mixed meal, made of cats, two parts bvaeight to one of corn, to every hundred pounds weight of calf will be about what most calves will require. But feeders must always keep in mind that food alone cannot grow up a. healthy calf, colt, lamb, or pig, any more than it can grow a. healthy boy or girl. All growing animals must have regular ‘daily exercise in order to develop muscle, bone and nerve force. The one who puts his young calves in a. shed or basement barn and keeps them there from fall until spring may have sleek fat calves, but they will disappoint his expectations of hav- ing serviceable potent males and good dairy cows. Sterility follows that kind of management in the ma- jority of cases. A calf might far better have an hour’s run on a win- ter day, even in a snowstorm, than be kept shut up all day in a pen. The modern barns are, to an ex- tent, weakening the bovine family, not by the reason of the born, but by the manner in which animals are kept in them day after day with- out exercise during the winter months. It is to-day so weakening the vitality of animals as to render them susceptible to all classes of germ disease, tuberculosis especialâ€" ly. No animal will inflate the lungs in a warm barn to the fullest ex- tent, neithcr will the heart action send the blood to all parts of the system properly. This is not an ad- vocacy of turning out a colt on a winter day and allowing it to hump around all day. Not a bit of it, nei- ther should it be turned out in a blizzard. But any ordinary winter day a calf or colt is better out for an hour or two than in the barn. Warm barns are good, but good sense demand: that growingr ani- ++++++++ â€".â€".â€"â€" FARM NOTES. The introduction of the English sparrow by its driving away the lit- tle native birds has been respon- sible for more damage b insects and weed pests than all 0 or mus- es combined, including cats, and boys with guns“ The farmer has as much right as any one to wear a. good suit of clothes and adorn and beautify his home. In fact, it is his duty to do so It is also part of his duty to furnish good reading matter for the family. We should strive so to ele- vate and dignify the business that any man could be proud to say, I am a farmer. Extracted honey, if brought to a temperature of not over 160 degrees Fahrenheit, bottled and scaled while hot, will usually, if kept in a uniformly warm temperament, keep liquid for a year or more. But there isagreat dilfiercnce in honey. Some will candy much more quickly than others. Cold atmosphere is quite favorable to candying of both extracted and comb~honey. Cel- lars and cold rooms are poor places for honey. The brownâ€"tail moth is a serious pest, and is likely to spread. The easiest and practically the only ef- fective means of artificial control, where established, is by cutting off the overwintering nests during the late fall, winter or early‘spring and destroying the larvae within. This, of course, can be supplement. cd by spraying with an arsenical mixture when the caterpillars ap- pear on the foliage in spring. When young, according to Howard, they may be killed with the ordinary strength sprays or paris green or arsenate of lead, but when half grown or larger, according to San- derson, five pounds of arsenate of lead to 50 gallons of water is nec-. essary to prove effective. LIVE STOCK NOTES. For horses that are confined to the stable on dry feed, a. hot bran mash once or twicc each week is most beneficial. Pigs are not well protected by Nature and to thrive they must have warm winter quarters free from drafts. They must have a good range for exercise. but they must have warm quarters in which’to sleep. Before you go into the poultry business you should visit some well- established poultry plant, where you can see and study its workings. By so doing, you will gain much in- formation that will be valuable to you in the future. You will see the absolute necessity of care and eco- nomy in all of its branches, tnc com~ plete knowledge of which is requi- site to success. A yearling may be kept well, which means kept growing at not to exceed from $2 to $2.50 a month while in stable, and for much less when at pasture. A favorite ration Is a pint of ground oats, the same of bran and half a gill of'oilmeal, twice a day, made into a thin gruel with water and spread on the hay feed. If hay is high, feed eats straw in its place if bright and clean. Do not give the colts any dusty food, and see to it that they do not become constipated. Lin- seed meal, roots, corn stalks and apples are useful to prevent this danger. GOT THE CRAZE. “Since when are you living in that hole 2” “Oh, I’ve only swapped houses with the hedgehogs while 1‘: ~ ‘ learning to fly !_”-â€"~Life.