"On the contrary, everything is going well; and I have come to tell you that you have borne Four share of our isivn1ed name long enough. This very night you must go to New York, and there wait for Leffing- ton. He has my instructions to the Very letter, avd he will be there by day after to-morrow with all the papers we shall need. Once in New York, you will assume your proper guise and name, and when 1 next see you we shall meet, as strange ers." - . m “Bub Caspar, is the coast clear l" "Entirely so. I have this very afternoon thrown the last hound {mm the scent. and not the least bar stands in our way. Since Adolphe Hugo's eath, I think we are the only living heirs of There- sa St. Clair Murdoch. Aolphe's folly serve us a good turn, truly.†"And we thought him dead be- fore," smiled Caspar. "Aye," responded the other, "or we should not have assumed his family name. I think my son, we might have made a safer hit in our selection of a false name; but, it's just as well now-just as well, since I have had no occasion to. appear on the scene." "It's all as well as it can be; so now; stir your stumps and be off. You will have barely time to pre- pare and catch the New York train." Mr. Waybrook thanked theclerk for his kindness and took his leave; -trnd as shortly thereafter as pos- sible Caspar Hugo closed the 0f- tice and hastened away. Be was bcund for his chambers, but he did cot go by the usual route. He went dtrvtrii-ty6iit/TsTiRféY 7' iiird Greene, thence into Leveretb, thence through Causeway to Portland, coming up from the opposite direc, tion to that uswally followed. He _reached his chambers without isis podiment, and found his father in. FrLi"pL, made sure that they were safe from observation, and then, taking a seat, replied:_ . “Let me alone for that," Cas- par, with an assuring nod. "As for her first love, the Honorable Nathan Waybrook will cut that Gor- dian knot, before he sleeps. I know the lay of the land in that quar- ter. Miss Christine, penniless and homeless, will be a different bit of game from the grand beauty ofthe Brookside Cettage. Leave her to me. 1 never saw anothéi‘ girl so beautiful!" "f wish you success, my boy." "There/s no euoh word as fail. with the cards I hold. You shall 'Wow's this, my son? You are at home early. Has anything gone wrong?†a "Gad, my boy, we'll be rich!†'Ms rich as nahohs.†"But. we'll contrive to do some- thing for that beauty at the cot- tage.†_ __ 211‘ will look for her," said Caspar. with' a catching of his breath. _ “But can you do it? Will she turn from her first love? Look out, my boy, and don't catch a Tartar.†"Dear Eir: Yours of the 20th ult. was duly received, ornd I have ap- plied myself diligently to the work of looking up the heirs in ques- tion, and I think I have found them. Theresa Murdoch, nee St. Clair, had a daughter, Eveline. This daughter married l/ierre Compton. These Comptons are dead-Pierre and Eveline--but they left children. one of whom, at least, a, son, named Alexander, married, tome thirty years ago, here in New Orleans. So that, even if I do not hit upon this Alexander Compton, I shall probably find chil- dren of the fourth generation. "I did not telegraph the fact of 1Ialford's death until after I had “sent the announcement of msdame's demise," explained Caspar, as the merchant returned the letter; "but I have since written at length, and future communications will be ei- ther made through me or directly to, the administrator." "The telegram aiinouncing, the death of Rachel St. Clair reached me before the letter. If I find the heirs, I will make clear their titles and bring them on. “Very respectfully, "Z. LEFFINGTON.. "And," added the merchant, as he arose from his seat, "if no heirs come from that direction, the corn- monwealth must hold the estate?" "Be sure Mr. Leffington will find them if they _arfe qlive.†_ "So it would seem, as madame left no heirs of her own body.'/ A “It would seem, then,†said Waybrook, "that we are likely to find lineal heirs." "To Adam Halford, Esq, Boston.†Caspar burned to his desk, and took from a file an open letter, which he handed to the merchant. It was dated at New Orleans, and read as follows: Neg: w the Mgs; CHAPTER XII.---(Cont'd) OR, SAVED BY THE LOVE OF A WOMAN. l“"“ w w _ . . "She has for a habitation the whole of my heart; and, for a name Ashe has my most solemn vow y' mm J"""'" W opened which might never have been touched by another. He had come to know that Christine was good and pure and true, and, knowing this, be had, from the deeper wells of understanding, drawn the conclusion that the pos- session of Christine St. Clair for his wife would constitute the one great. essential to all after' happi- He led her to the cottage, and kissed her, and then turned tky- ward his own home. He felt, in his spirit, the significance of his father's summons, and he prepari ed himself to meet the needs of, the occasion. It appeared to him the turning-point of his life. Though young and buoyant, and by nature 'emotional and excitable, he was possessed of a goodly fund of sound sense. His association, with Chris- tine bad benefited him. It had made him older in tho experience of true life. Ho might have loved a girl far less worthy, and might have been as ardently attached to her as he was now to Christine; but in his present love a fount of true and just. appreciation had been ncss. _ Mr. Waybrook was seated at his table with a closed book in his hand, when his son entered. He looked up, and motioned the youth to a seat. His face was cold and stern, and his lips and hands com- pressed. can come if we are true to each other. I will be true, so help me Heaven I." - "Paul," he said with an icy calmness. "as the present business admits of no possible variation, we will make it as brief as possible. You cannot be ignorant of my pur- pose. When I gave a reluctant consent to your suit With the girl Christine, I believed that she was the heir of Madame Rachel. In fact, I had been directly given so to understand. But it now turns out that she is a penniless, name- less wait, without even a habita- And at about the same time Hon. Nathan Waybrook entered his man- sion, and having repaired to his library, he rang for a servant, and ordered that his son should be sent 111330 him. . . . "Word came back that his son was out. He had been seen going in the direction of the Brookside. "I beg your pardon, sir," the messenger said, respectfully, "but I have come from your father. He wishes to see you immediately." "Tell him," returned Paul, with a quiver of restraint in his voice, "that I wil. be with him soon." “He said, sir, if you please, that ii, was a matter of the utmost im- portance, and he would see you without delay." . And when the messenger was gun-e- Mr. Waybrook paced to and fro, his hands clenched, and his jaws locked, while his eyes flamed with the resolution that occupied his thoughts. "FiirviLreii his hand impatient- ly. and the servant turned away. “Féhr not, my darling. No evil " tell you again, Christine __ I tell you once for all---that no pow- er of earth shall separate us! If my father will disinherit me, let him. In one short week I shall be of age, and then I come into pos- session of twenty thousand dollars left me by my mother's father, That sum cannot be kept from me. With that, we can commence life. I shall enter business, and we will be as happy as the day is long. Now don’t dash any more cold water on my prosptctsy," , tion or a name." have her for a daughter-in-law within a, month after the estate is settled. And now, be up and stir- ring." That evening, the man whom we have known as Alexander Hugo, but who had never shown himself abroad under that name, left Bos- ban by the Fail River line for New York. He was habited in a Bea- man's garb, and after reaching Fall River took a deck-passage, "Go find him, and send him to me at once. Say it; is my com. mand. My business is urgent and imptTatilre y' Paul Waybrook stood by Chris- tine’s side, holding one of her hands. They were in the park, be- neath one of the great elms, and the shadows of the closing day had merged into the all-pervading sha- dow of evening. There had been tears upon the maiden's fare, but they were now wiped away, and she had forced a calmness which was maintained only by persistent ef- fort. “‘J Y’V'r - -- Before further words could be spoken, they were aroused by a footfall near at hand, and direct- [y afterward a servant from Elm- side stood before th_em. CHAPTER XIII are true to each Bo spoke Paul, quietly, but wit inuense feeling. tIIs father start- ed, and brought his clenched hand down upon the table vehemy1tly. I“Paul, we will have no discus- sion in this matter. I shall exer- cise the authority of a, parent. You were not of age when you plighted your troth---you are not yet of age. I forbid the union..! Let me hope that you will not force me to stern- er measures. As Rachel St. Clair's adopted child and heir, the girl would have held honorable posi- tion; but as she is-a nameless foundling-perhaps the child of-" "Once before you told me that. Then I lacked two weeks of my ma- jority. Now I lack only a, week." "hnd--sir!-do you mean that you will disobey mel†“I mean that I will not tamely submit to a sacrifice of my whole future." "And," cried the father, arising from his chair, and clutching his bands with intense passion, "listen to my final speech: If you persist --if you continue your intercourse with that girl-l will discard you forever/es, more,-1 now make your disinheritan-ce contingent up- Nathan Waybrook was note hard-hearted man, and yet his ion had judged him rightly. He was a proud and ambitious man, tenaci-, ous _of authority, and of strong self-will. Do you say that he was unnatural? So may the best of men be at times unnatural. Did you never strike your' child in a passion? Did you never hold anger against a dearly loved one because you were too proud to trc- knowledge an error? Did you never suffer a cloud to rest upon your household when a simple kind word, whieh you would not speak, might have brought back light and "Hush y' Paul held up his hand as he thus interrupted his father's speech, and his face was ashen pale. The blood had all gone back into his heart, and he had great diifi- culty in preventing a surging forth o' the flood in fire and wrath. on the act. If you see her again as her lover, you are no more a son of mine!" And so father and son separated, the former to regain an outward composure by pacing to and fro in his study, while the other walked out upon the oarriage-way, there to strengthen himself for the Work be had in hand-the work of guid- ing his own bark and selecting his own voyage in life; for he was fully assured that his father would not relent. We.†"9_e'Ne __ v -- joy? Ah! there is more sin against nature in the very best of us" than we are prone to acknowledge. We shudder at the quantity rather-than at the quality. We condemn the result rather than the principle in, herent in the cause. The veriest coward, once goaded to passion, may fight like a, hero; and so the really human heart when once it opens its portals to impotent wrath, may foster feelings utterly inhu- man. _ Nathan Waybrook was resolved; resolved that his son should not marry the nameless founding of the Brookside; and in support of his resolution he had issued his solemn mandate. Would his boy dare to disobey? The very thought awoke fires of vengeance in his heart, and opened the way to a fur- ther resolution which his towering pride was to sustain, and which was to become the bane of his life. (To be continued.) "At least,†went on the parent, "a child who may, in the hour of her marriage, be claimed by a crim- inal from the very lowest slough of ignominy and disrepute. It can never be, my son. Against it I in- terpose my authority. It, is my command, laid upon you solemnly and unreservedly, that you see the girl no more as a lover. The union between you is from this time bro- ken off. You will take due notice thereof, and govern yourself ac- cordingly." 'TT a , , 1 The blood was still forced back upon Paul's heart, and when he spoke, it was in a tone scarcely raised above a whisper; but h1s words were painfully distinct, and his meaning not to be mistaken. Well had it been for the father if his perceptions. had been Keener, and his sense less blinded by rage. "Boy, you must! It is my com- mand!" "f have, said-l cannot." "You forget, sir, you are but a, child. I hold you under lawful authority.†, " "Father," the young man said, "I have known the lady of whom you speak for many years, and of late I have had opportunity to study the indwelling traits whicn are at the foundation of her charac- ter. All that is pure and true and good she is. All that is high and noble and aspiring in spirit; charac- terizes her. Among all the women of my acquaintance she is a queen. She alone fills the measure of wo- manly graces which may make per- fectirm--such perfection as earth can afford. She alone, of all I have ever seen, has the power to remind me of my mother, I have plighted to her my troth--our vows have been exchanged-and I can- not now give her up.†. “Moth-er may I go aviate?" "Yes, my darling daughter; See that you steer the airship straight And don't land in the water." IN 1915 FROM PAIN T0 PLEASURE A Visitor to Jamaica Tells of Sad Scenes and Pleasant Days. Once I saw the extremes of hu- man pain and pleasure m a single day. SHOWING TIIE EXEREMES OF LIFE LN ONE DAY. In the morning I breakfasted with the medical offieer in charge of the leper asylum at Spanish Town, in Jamaica, and afterwards accom- panied him "il his rounds through that institution. All lepers in the colony are segregated there, unless their friends can guarantee effec- tive private isolation to the au- thorities, says a, writer in London Answers. to see these young children stamp- ed with the same curse, and to know that in time they, too, will become ghastly parodies of human- ity-----! Unless we can discover the cure. I have been egcperiment- ing on them with a serum I pre- pared, but the results, so far, are not conclusive." We walked about the grounds, and chatted with many of the in- mates, who seemed pleased to see a visitor-a rare sight in a place which the natives cannot even speak without shuddering. CmLD-LEPERS! "Are they--" I began; but I could noCsspeak the word of them. "Yes, they are lepers, and by law they must be confined here." His face grew very stern and thoughtful. "It is hard to see men and women day by day dragging out this most miserable of lives. But We went into the pretty, flower- hedecked chapel-tho gift of an English lady who happened to visit the settlement when touring in Ja- maica. A negress was kneeling be- fore the altar in silent prayer. The hands she clasped were almost des- titute of ftngers; her upturned face, though terribly mutilated by the progress of the leprosy, had the spiritual beauty of one who walks among things unseen. When we entered the gates, two little mulatto girlss-dusky, lively children of five or six-ran up to us, laughing merrily. One caught hold of the doctor's arm, and gave him a bunch of white jessamine she had picked in the garden. Evident, ly he was a great favprite.‘ . Some showed hardly any signs of the disease; others had lost almost every outward trace of manhood. But there was no distinction be, tween them; they all talked, work- ed, or played together freely, for all were lepers. What the worst were the others would become, un- less from some other cause death intervened. Leprosy, unfortunate- ly, does not kill. Wandering along narrow, moss- covered pathways, between huge masses of blossom-laden bushes, and trees covered with wondrous or- chids, talking the while of “home†with a sweet-faced girl, who. still had the English bloom on her cheeks, and the English energy in her manner, it was hard to realize that, only a few hours before, and a few miles away, I had witnessed sights that would have saddened her young life for many a day, perhaps for ever. She dived herT1ttle, hafnofl in, and found some sweets. Then they both scampered away, triumphant. "She was a deeply religious girl when she came here," the doctor, whispered, as we went out into the burning sunshine "and she has never changed.†The doctor told me that he had known lepers die of old age, and I saw more than one man there over seventy, and an old woman nearly eighty. Some had been in the place the greater part of their lives. "The pain never seems quite to leave me now," was the patient an- swer, as tho man went on deftly weaving a basket; "but it is a bit easier." In most cases there is, fortunate- iv, no very acute pain-at all events during the greater part of the course of the disease, But, enough. Everything that could be done to brighten the lives of the wretched dwellers in this house of pity and of pain was done by the Government and by private charity, yet some of the things I saw there cannot be written down. On the afternoon of that same day I went to a garden-party, given by Lady H-----, the Governor's wife, in the beautiful grounds of King's House-an earthly paradise which would be hard to beat even Trt the tropics. _ “IE there -much pain this morn- ing?†the doctor asked of one very bad case. WHERE IGNORANCE IS. BLISS "What a delightful land this is y; she exclaimed, as she buried her face in a great cluster of the roses that riotecl in color all around us. "Bow happy all the people seem to bc-even the poorest of the ne- groes!" " . , I responded to her mood. and did my best to make her afternoon en- joyalsle. She iaughed like a happy child at the absurd antics of a. few v "Good-moriling, Mabel l†he said. “See what I've got in my pqcket 1’: DRAGGLING OUT LIFE of us in an impromptu burlesque cf a gymkhana on the tennis-fawn. She delighted in talking to mild- mannered. sun-tanned men, who had been in wild places and done bloody deeds, which they carefully sub-edited for her benefit. She inspected with reverent awe the treasures of King's House, with its relics of by-gone naval heroes who made the Empire. She felt, like Charles Kingsley when he vis. ited the West Indies, that all the beauty and glamor and romance she had read about and dreamed about had come into her life at last. I do not think I ever saw man or woman more frankly, glori- ously happy than she was that af- teruoon. The English reserve, the soclety manner. were completely forgotten for once. "Well, dear child," said her hos- tess, when at length she regretfully said good-bye, "I hope you have had a nice time!" "Oh, it is all perfectly heavenly l†she sighed. "I wish I could stay in Jamaica for ever! Everything, is so beautiful here, and everyone Is a, happy !" /cihj9i'i SAW-if: REVEALS THEIR LIVES WITH AMAZING ACCURACY. Lady H------, who was herself a ministering angel among the poor, and the sick and the outcast, smiled sadly at me. The rich, poor, exalted and humble seek his advice on Busi- was. iKarriage, Friends, Enemies, Changes, Speculation, Lore Affairs, Journeys, and all events of Life. Just as there is a Victoria Cross for brave soldiers, so there is an Edward Cross for heroes of the mine. This was instituted two Fears ago, and shows on one side a King Edward head, and on the other a miner succoring his faint- ing mate. Struck in silver, the miner's medal is attached to a dark-blue ribbon with a, yellow edge, and is a prize coveted by every hardy pitman in Great Bri- tain. This Hie vet! of mystury marries 501ng § shrouded the ancient sciences been raised, at last ? Can it be that a system has been ' perfected that reveals with reasonablel accuracy the character and disnosition oil an individual, and so outlines the lite as to assist in avoiding errors and taking ad- va_ntage of opportunities f - V Can This Man Read Your Life? Free test Readings will be sent for a short time to all our Headers. Roxroy. a man who has for twenty years been delving into the mysteries of the occult. making a seieatif10 study of the various methods of reading the lives of people, seems to have reached a higher round in the ladder of fame than his ure- docesaors. Letters are pouring: into his office from all parts ot the world telling of the benefits derived from his advice. Many of his patrons look upon him as a man gifted with some “range, mysterious IT2,'i; but he modestly asserts that what C accomplishes is due alone to an under- sending of natural hugs. A -- _ “Haw“ -"lW"""'-". -_e-"'" _ r. N If you Wish. you may enclose 10 cents (Canadian stamws) to pay postage: Irleri- cal workuetc. Do not. enclose come of Marie~“I think Cholliecis a, de- lightful dancer; he's so light on his feet!†Lillia,n-"When you’rr- better acquainted with Chomp. you’ll discover that he's light at both ends. He is a man of kindly feeling toward humanity. and his manner and tone imme- diately impress one with his sincere belief in his work. A huge stack of grateful letters from people who have received read- ings from him adds to other convincing: proof as to his, ability. Even Astrologers and Palmists admit that his system sur- ira_spess_tsnrt11it1g Lotfyltrr?duyeda, _ _ u you once.†If you wish to take advantage of Rox. roy's generous offer and obtain a. free reading, send your dare, month and year of birth, state whether Mr.. Mrs. or Miss. and also copy the following verse in your awn handwriting '.-- l have heard of your powBr To read genre's lives. And would as what tor me You have to advise? . Be sure to give your correct name and address and write mainly. Send Your let- ter to ROXROY, Dept. 37, No. 177a Ken- sington 1.Tis,rh-s'treyet, London.‘ w., England. iiirver" in" letters The Rev. G. C. B. Haaskarl, PhD of St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, in a letter to Prof. Boxror, says: "You are :ei'tainly the greatest specialist and mast- ar of your profession. Everyone consulting you will marvel at the correctness of your detailed pesrsorou1 readings and ad, vice. The most sceptical will consult you again ancl again after corresponding with THE MINER’S V. C tH-tttttttte ttet. Ktéw+¢++¢+~o+++++++++$ FILLING THE SILO. Never compel a horse, much less a growing colt, to stand day in and day out on a hard, dry floor, withri out exercise. T /â€â€˜ The silo is no longer an experi- i went, as all those who have fed silage properly will agree.- The round silo, whether the same is made of wood, metal, concrete or biick, has overcome many of the difficulties which were enco11irttr-r:teprs, ed in keeping silage in the bhd-fash- /t-:'r'i) ioned or square silo. The present' v/i/tf:) form of the silo is probably as per- _ ll/Ji)), feet a form as will ever be devised. -, i-ii:,"-.)?:': Thus, in selecting a silo the main tit point at issue is the cost. ‘1'; a' 'ic-ic',,' There is now no longer ,it:r:ii,iiA"i'ti"iii', duuht as to the right method 0%}; filling the silo. With the perfritt h'Ffi'r'civih:'t" tion of silo-filling machinery mu‘z. "ki/irc-r" of the troubles attending this op'-'-r'-l'ltlSbss" eration in the past have disappear- L-, ed. "rc, Now it is generally accepted that the best silage is made from corn that is quite mature. If a dent va- riety, the dent in the kernel should commence to show. A good many of the unsatisfactory results r, "'." storing silage in the past have tt . doubtedly been. due to the use (2' corn that was too green. An air-" gument which we might mention in favor of silage in addition to those which we have already mentioned in the present high cost of feeds. All grains and feeds of all kinds are higher in price than they have been in the past and the prospects aye that they will continue to be high for some time. There is no way that we know of to supplement high priced grain in dairy feeding except by the use of silage. We, therefore, believe that every dairy- man, and every farmer who has young cattle on his hands, can well afford to consider the silo as a val- uable adjunct in his/feeding, opera-" tions. The task of training a colt re- quires patience. Lessons must be repeated time after time in order to make sure that the colt is learn- ivg and that he does not forget. It is a wise precaution to hitch the colt with an older horse that has a good gait. The colt is thus apt to acquire a, like step. Arrange, to have two’ sheep pas-. tures so that the flock can " changed from one to the other each. week. The sheep relish a fresh, clean pasture. If you can do no better, put a fence through the old one. Much has been said of the utility, (f birds as insect scavengers, but there are no better insect destroy; ers to be found among all the fee-f tisered tribes than domestic poul-f try. The farms where hens and) turkeys are allowed free range, are, invariably found remarkably ex-l einpt from harmful insects. The] L. free range of the place is not only.†the best way to derive them benefit from fowls, but it insuresl the greatest exemption from most} of the large insects, such as grass/ hoppers, cutworms, cabbage and eornworms, and nearly all large: larvae and grubs that infest the crops- The best way to dispose of bones of all kinds is to grind them. Tho finer they are ground, the sooner they become available to the plant.! If they are treated with sulphuric, acid they are almost ieome,diuelt usable by the plant_as food. l, If a long spout is hung from the end of the conveyer so that the silage falls in the centre of the silo in a large pile and the surface of the silage next the wall of the silo is kept trumped, and water added as necessary, there will be no danger of' the same spoiling. The question as to how mature corn should be before using for silage is much less in dispute than it used to be. A good deal is said about cover crops just new, and many kinds are recommended, but most writ‘ ers, make the same mistake farm-' cem do in growing soiling crops, i.e., thinking plants will grow large on poor soil. It does not p.ay to An essential feature in plowing is that the broken connection ot the inverted furrow-slice with the subsoil will soon be repaired. It is well known that the moisture in the soil comes to the surface by means of a natural law called capil- lary attraction. The same process may be observed in a sponge where a, pare of it is in water, or Where , a bit of blotting paper is usedftw take up spilled ink. Strawy re-i mare plowed under will in a dryi mason hinder the ce-uniting of top}, and bottom soil, and the capilliary attraction remaining broken. niois-l ture is denied to the growing crop( and the Wilson, Cl' the manure, or, l’rmblonce is blamed. buy high-priced cow peas, crimson (-iover, Canada peas or red clovgr tf) sow on land so poor that it will T; " yield a-load to the. acre. A bad imitation of wiekeduess is tattcr than the real thing. flhlil the Farm LIVE STOCK NOTES FARM NOTES Ieilr. _d» sent per- sod Jain 7; any " l of fee?" _)ii'ht e