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OR, A SAD LIFE STORY CHAPTER XVI.--(Conlinuca), "And to think that it is only April I" she says with an air of prosaic uston- ishment, "Last April we had four inches ol snow on the front drive. IL was when Cecilia had the mumps." "When Cecilia had the mumps ?" re- peatls Burgoyne in a rather dazed voice voice. "I did not know that Cecilia had ever had the mumps." This is the form into which are frozen the love-words that the nightingale and the perfume of the Tuscan flowers and the Ave Maria had so nearly brought to his tongue, Had Amelia known whal an unwonted burst of tenderness her un- lucky reminiscence had choked, she would have regrelted it probably with a good dea) deeper bitterness then would many a woman with a lappler Lift of utterance. Bul she js blessedly fgnorant of what Cecilia's mumps have robbed her, and presently again strikes alhwart the nightingale's song with the placid remark: "I like your friend very much; I think that she is a very nice woman." This time Burgoyne has no difficulty in responding immediately. Miss \Wil- son's first speech had so effectually chased his dreams thal he can now re- ply with commonplace kindliness : "She has just been button-holing me to make the same confidence about you." "And she is so fond of you," continues Amelia, He laughs. "She has just confided to nie that so are you;" then, with a hurried change of tone, in dread lest the last speech shall call out some expression of the mule pent passion always lurking in her atient eyes, he udids lightly, "I seem to Cc very generally beloved !" What effect the flat faluily, as it seems to Jim himself, of this last observation has upon Amelia, does not appear, since she receives it in silence; and again the Ave Maria and the bird divide belween them the province of sound. As the great sun droops, suckle above their heads out more generously jls strong clean sweelness, The rest of the parly have drifted away out of sight 'and hearing; but 'by-and-bye their voices are again heard and their returning forms scen. As they draw near, il appears thay their original number of three has been aug- mented by the addilion of two men; and fa still nearer approach reveals who the two men are. Mrs. Byng leads the way, lalking animatedly to Mr. Green- ock, who is evidenlly an old acquain- tance, Byny (rails after them by him- sell, and the rear is brought up by Cecilin and a portly clerically-dressed figure, whom Jim at once recognizes as the Devonshire, clergyman, his failure in oblaining- information aboul whom has embillered and fidgeted his v/hole day. Here. then. fs. the opportunity he has sought brought to his very hand. And yet his first feeling, as he sees the com- placent priestly face, and the deliberate black legs pacing beside Cecilia, Is one of dismay. There is nothing unlikely in the supposition that he may have been presented lo her at the garden-party at the Bellosguardo villa, and yet he now realizes: with a shock of surprisé lhat they are acquainted, and, if acquainted, then "at liberly to- converse upon what ever subject may best recommend itself to them. He is absolutely powerless to pul any check upon their talk, and yet at this very moment he may be narral- ing to her that story which his 6wn loyalty 'had forbidden him lo overhear. The first couple has passed, so absorbed in eager question and answer that they do nol.gven see: Burgoyne and his be- trothed. Mrs. Byng lefi London only three ; days = ago,. and Mr. Greenock fhight teturn thither at, any moment that Cl BI A CH wile sth "fondness" that 'might the honey- seems lo give have Heseemed Dante questioning some | Ww chan tyfarer to Ravenna as to the prosperity' of his 'Florence. The second pair's oices aré 'lower pitched, and their pics therefore less easy to ascertain, yet by, ful aig, el they are lalking of | B gone, past recall. He moves his feet fidgetily on the gravel; he gets up, and throws pebbles into the fountain; he snubs an officious little Italian boy who brings Amelia a small handful of flow- ers plucked out of the emerald grass. Amelia does not share her lover's un- casiness, as indeed why should she? She puts the expecled tip into the young Tuscan's dirly brown hand, and leans her head enjoyingly on the back of the stone seat. "I think I like lo come to these sort of places with you even betler than to pic- tion of extreme content. "Do you, dear?" replies he absently, with his uneasy eyes still searching the spot at which Cecilia and her escort had disappeared. "Of course you are quite right: 'God made the coun'ry, and man made the--" Ah" The substitution of this ejaculation for the noun which usually concludes the proverb is due to the fact of the couple he is interested in, having come back into sight, retracing their sleps, and again approaching. It is clear as they come near that the desire to explore the villa grounds has given way, in {his case, lo the absorplion of conversation. Wilh a long pang of dread, Jim's shar- pened faculties realize, before they are within earshot, that they have ex- changed the light and banal civilities which had at first employed them for talk of a much more inlimate and inter- esting character, Cecilia is generally but an indifferent listener, greally pre- ferring to take the lion's share in any dialogue; but now she is all silent at tention, only putting in, now and again, a short eager queslion, while her com- panion is obviously narrating--narraling gravely, and yet with a marked relish. Narrating what? Jim (ells himself angrily that there are more slorics than one In the world; that there is no rea- son why, because Cecilia's clerical friend is relating {o her something, it must necessarily be that particular something which he dreads so inex- pressibly; but he strains his ears as they pass lo calch a sentence which may re- lieve or confirm his apprehensions. He has mot to strain them long. It is Cecilia who is speaking, and in her eagerness she has raised her yoice. "You may depend upon me; I assuro you I am as safe as a church; if 1 had chosen 1 might have made a greal deal of mischief in my day, but I never did. I always said that she had a history. 1 d= not pretend to be a physiognomist, but 1 said so the first time I saw her. 1 knew that they came from Devonshire. I assure you I am as sale as a church I" IL is clear that the clergyman's hesita- tion, already perhaps more coy than real, is unable to withstand the carnest- ness of Cecilia's asseverations of her own trustworthiness. He has already opened his moulh to respond when an unexpecled interruption arrests the stream of his eloquence. Jim has sprung from his bench, and thrust himself un- ceremoniously between the two interlo- cutors, . "Come and see the wistaria," he says, brusquely addressing the girl; "you were not there with us when we were looking at il, were you? You were maintaining the other day that wistaria has no scent; come and smell it!" It is in vain (hat Cecilia 'protests that she has already seen quite as much of the wislaria as she wishes; that she had never denied the potency of its perfume; that her legs are giving away beneath hér from faligue. Jim marches her re- lentlessly away, nor does he again quit her side until he sees her safely sealed nthe flacre which is to carry her home, IT'is indeed his portion to have a tele-a. tele drive' back to Florence, ith her, «into, the r ie He, raws a long breath as they jog slowly away from the villa. leaving the clergy- man: taking off. 'his tall hat, with & baffled and offended air of farewell. Fe is conscious that Cecilia is swelling. be- side him with feelings no less 'wounded, even for " some 'moments before she speaks. foro ay tH IEE "You rather cut in yng. having. absenlly st vehicle which bears the of] ur own throa an alfronted. voice, * ed me and Mr. Bur icky bul. there, is 8 | By mild sm, in ys, walching her s lure galleries," she says wilh an intona- | ment at the keenness of his interest in tho subject; "perhaps'--beginning to laugh--"he only said it to frighten you; why do you think that he is leaving Florence to-morrow ?" "Because he told me so," answers she '| impatiently; "he is at the Grand Bre- | tagne, and he was complaining of not being comfortable there, and 1 was ad- vising him to move to .another hotel, and he said, 'Oh, no, it was nol worth while, as he was' leaving Florence lo- morrow.' " Jim draws a long breath, and leans back in his corner of the flacre. 'He has gained the information he sought, Ithas come to his hand at the very time he was chafing most at his inability to go in quest of it. > "So your inlerruplion was the more provoking," continues Cecilia, her indig- nation pufling out and ruffling its fea- thers at the recollection of her wrongs, "as il was our last chance of meeting; however, you cut your own throat, as he evidently knew something very interest- ing about your dear friends, something which he does not generally lell people, and which he would not have told me only that he saw at once 1 was no blab." Jim shivers. He had only just been in time then--only just in time to stop the mouth of this blatant backbiter in priest's raiment. His companion looks al him curiously. "Are you cold," she asks, "or did a goose walk over your grave? Why did you shiver?" He pulls himself together. "I, was shivering," he says, compelling himself lo assume the rallying tone in which he is apt to address the girl beside him, "at (he thought of the peril I had saved you from. My poor Cis, have not you and I suffered enough already al the hands of the Church 7" She reddens. "Though 1 do not pre- tend to any great sensittveness on the subject, 1 think you have worn that old joke nearly off its legs." But during the rest of the drive she utlers no further lament over her lost clergyman. (To be continued). -- ae DEATII FOLLOWS MARRIAGE. Seventecn-year Courtship Ended by the Hand of Death. A singularly sad story was that un- folded by the inquest held by Dr. E. C. Tart on the body of Mrs. William Junes, who died at Victoria, B. C., after a few hours' illness. Mrs. Jones was formerly Miss Flor- ence Stringer of Staffordshire, England, and 17 years ago Mr. Jones and she were companions as boy and girl. Some years 'ago Mr. Jones went to Vicloria and enlered into business as an auc- tioneer, and during the past four years had corresponded faithfully wilh his old- time sweetheart with a view to malri- mony. Al last Miss Stringer arrived, and Rev. Mr. Ard made her the wife ct her childhood companion. Twenty- five hours laler she was dead, having succumbed to a sudden hemorrhage of the brain. These are but a few incidents.in: this sad ending romance, which seems to have been replete with misfortunes al- most from ths time Miss Stringer left England. In crossing the continent she lost her purse conlaining her ticket, baggage, checks, money, and other be- longings, and for a week was placed in the Home of the Friendless in St. Paul: * was while in. the wailing-room of ihe big railway depot in that city that the bag disappeared. She had to wait there three hours to connect with the Great Northern train going west, and an hour of this time had elapsed when the loss was discovered. Miss Stringer then fell into the hands of the matron, by whom she wus removed lo the institution. In the meanwhile a telegram had beén sent cn to Mr. Jones, but the latter having gone lo Seattle lo meet his flancee, was Ahere patiently awaiting her coming while the telegram was lying 'uncall for in Victoria. Mr. Jones remained in Seallle five days, and then returning to Victoria found the message with its distracting note. Then the wires were again put in motion, and it was mol for (wo days that his bride-to-be could located. She had telegraphed to her brothers in Plilladelphia, whom: shé had journey, bul by ile: same singulaf' mis- fortune which pursued -her durin {rip they. could not be Coached o 11 these weighed | I oi Woman, wh "was i norant of the conditions of travel on dv affected "her health. ' To add miseries, on arrival. her baggage had rot Reived, and £0 pe has - 4 traced, although the t Northern Railway Company is ace pi power fo locate this; ag'alsoiihe hand- (bag stolen at the station in;St. Paul. * "Third. The amount 'of 'milk 'that is be visited before undertaking the overland] ivily on: Totasly tp this continent, and it is believed been | gu in is] AVAAVVAAAVAAAAANVAAAN PAAAAA v| ions of } ON THE FARM Ce 'THE POULTRY YARD. No animals on the farm are more alert in the morning and more anxious lo rise early than the poultry, wriles a ccrrespondent, When kept in dirty and cvil-smelling houses it may be their in- stinct for self-preservation makes then anxious fo gel into the open air, but they have also a keen. interest that the early worms and other tit-bits of which they are most fond are not available long after sunrise. The desire for the open-air and the natural foods of the early morning induce the desire * of early rising summer and winter. Those who keep their fowls shut up lill long after the sun is up, or probably seven cr eight o'clock, deny them much that is of the highest benefit to them. In the summer season it is a good plan to allow an outlet to remain open all might that the fowls can have liberty ut daylight, unless vermin prohibits this, but in winter conditions are allogether different, and must be met accordingly. The early mornings, as a rule, are mug- @: and chilly. To let the fowls outfrom a warm night-heuse into such an atmos- plére is very trying for them. There are few grubs to induce aclivity, and they only mope about longing for their warm breakfast, and if not kept in Lill the temperature rises and their comfort- Ing and sustaining breakfast supplied al once they will be in a very unsatis- factory stale and not lay to pay their way and leave profit, To add to their comfort the interior of their home should be invariably clean and sweet. In such an almos- phere they will never experience any setbacks if detained. in it until the open air has lost ils early morning rawness. Prabably this may be at 8 a.m. or a lille later, according to the weather. Some may ask on considering the drift of my contentions, if it would not be best lo feed them in the house and let them have their breakfast carly or at daylight. In rough weather (his would ke a de- cided advantage, and they would enjoy and profit by it; but do not throw the food down on the dirly floor. This would be a great wasle. It should he put in dishes or shallow and narrow troughs. But I would only adopt this plan in rough weather, as they relish their food more keenly in the open if circumslances are in favor of this. These remarks apply more particularly to lay- ing hens and all capable of laying, and others being fatlened too, as comfort adds much to the quickness and eflicacy oi arcomplishing this. Ducks and g esc are more hardy, particularly the Jatter. 'Turkeys are great nands for the open air. They do not appreciate indoor feed- ing, and while sheller in the morfiing is beneficial to them too, feeding need hardly cver be attempted till they are liberated. CREAM SEPARATORS. The efficiency, of a cream separator depends upoft' the manner of its opera- tion, and if this work is te be uniform it must be 'uniformly. worked. «In other words, the directions accompanyi~g the 'machine when bought must be faithlul- ly followed. il good resulls.are.oblain. ed' at all times, A recent bulletin from the United: States arent vol" Agricultufe:. en- titled "Buiter Making on the Farm," de- voles a good deal of space to the oper ation of cream separators, a id from it fe :submitted he following summary of points to be observed in running one; "First. 'The speed of the separator niust. be' uniform and up fo the stand. ard required by the makers of that par ticular. machine. bes N "Second. The temperature of the milk should be such as will make it' flow readily; the warnier-it is 3 fect will "be 'the separatl i run through the ain 'al_experien; "The mafl-carpier of the Labrador. coast |, "The "baboo English" of India'is tisual- «+My | learned friend. with. mere wind {fram my legs," he asseried; he had pro i poor client' has 8 1 constant, -and should not. be. increased that: which. is inteiided for the: 5 vo the mi 4 ; Ls 0 whole truth is al this" all-important. impart Route of One Hundred Miles for Ten Dollars a Trip. Is a min of endurance who does not fear. the worst of weather, There is no road at all. There are no bridges ny ferries. In some parts of the cou { the houses are as much. as twenty miles apart. There are mountains to climb and rivers to cross, bogs lo pass, im- penelrable - barren uplands and large lakes. In "Off the Rocks" Doctor Gren- fell tells of one mail-carrier whose route i: about one hundred miles lang, and who receives as compensation ten dol lars a trip. ; - We were pilying ourselves one night as we turned into .our comfortable sieeping-bags on the floor of our host's hut--pitying ourselves because it had been a heavy day on our dogs, and it was nearly ten o'clock before we reached shel'er. When I awoke in the morning, as the y dawn. was stealing in through the Iittle window, I thought 1 heard a movement by the stove. There seemed something almost uncanny about it until I made out what it was, and could distinguish a tiny, erect figure silting bolt upright where none had been overnight. It proved to be Peter Wright. He had arrived about two In the morning, noiselessly "stationed himself by the Slove, and gone. straight off lo sleep, Eitting on the sctile, wilhout a word lo any one, as salisfled as if he were 'n o feather bed. : Now this place was where three car- ricrs meet. The cne from the westward was lale, and Pele did not get his mails handed over unlil nine in the evening. He had thirty miles to his next station, und tho temperature was twenty be low zero. At ten he rose to go. "What, Pete, never going lo leave a! this time of night, are you?" "Why sure," he replied. "With a moon like this 'is better in the woods than when skeeters are about. So long, doctor!" and with that he went out ab- Solutely alone. , Pete is always ready to oblige, and never happier than when the space .n his, back, ordinarily monopolized by his bundle, permits him to carry a ten- pound tub of butlerine or a couple nf jars of molasses, just to oblige. t fsn't for the money alone that Pete works. It is lucky he does not have to pay totel bills as he journeys from place ti"place. There would be little left (1 the salary beyond enough for "skin bots" if he.were charged for meals. But there are no hotel bills on the coast, and we are incapable of an idea 80 orl ginal as to ask Petesto pay for anything: --_-- "ORIENTAL ENGLISH, Indian Lawyer's: Defense of a Woman to or the United he: United Slales over yearly. fs The lace trade in No hibiting remarkable activity . The value of the trade of church-going." : "Seeing 'that you and I were once neighbors, you might lei. me off 'this time," zaid a woman at Lecds, when asked by anything to say regarding 'a charge 'of being drunk. : The Prince of Wales, president of King Edward's Hospital' Fund for Lon- don, 'has received from Mr. and Mrs, _Bishollsheim a donation of £10,000 to the fund in commemoration of their golden wedding. + . 'Owing lo-the influence of athletics on. the physique of girls, the desks in use ten years ago 'at Wells High school raised several inches to accommodate present-day scholars, ; Much 'to the regret of the 'Count ess of Essex, who was Miss Adele Grant, the gdom was last year 97 Since 'the Birmingham Crematorium was opened in October, 1903, {here have been 60 cremations there. : England has three limes 2% many murder. trials annually as Ireland, a 1 eland about twice as many as Scot- Damage estimated at £20,000 caused by fire recently at the woo! mill of J. Brown & Co., of Yeadon, near Bradford. ) i SA oA Outside the Guards 'there is not a single infantry battalion in the British army with such an 'average height as the London Scottish. ; In East Lancashire a colton mill, which was offered a few years. a D pes, £7,000, but failed to find a purchaser, has just been sold for. £17,000. During the revenue of Canal has shown an increase at the rate of £1,000 per week over the cor- responding period of last year. 4 The searchlights of the new baitle- ship Dreadnought are of an enlirely new type, and are double-ended, so that the beams of light can be sent in two di- rections at {he same time. The broad-minded Archdeacon . of Birmingham says--*1 confess I am in favor of dances--even under the pats ronage of the clergy. a was for the ten months. of last year . the Manchester = Ship They may lead evil; but so may anything--even a 'magistrate whether she had the Tunbridge have had to be "Earl 'has decided to "Client. scat, Cassiopury ly commercial; but recently a baboo! lawyer - offered a delicious example in -his defense of a woman client. She was accused of an assault, but he endeavored to show that she herself had been assaulted, and bad suffered damage of the most conspicuous feature of her countenance. from & "teapot thinks' to browbeal me bly a "tempest in a {eapol" in mind. "I only seek," he continued, earnestly. "to plate my: bone of in your honor's eye, ¥ din. od 'My learned. friend vainly runs. amuck upon. fhe sheel-anchors of my case. My been rived of some of | er valuable leather (skin), the leather of her nose: «Until ihe witness: explains what became of my cliénl's nose-leather he. cannot be believed; he cannot be al- contention clearly 0] amounts to somet Neither Jame Bryce the two me of one of the most 1 cent estates in England, ; The. Nobel Prize: for Physics, sor the past year, hus. been awarded Joseph "John Thomson," the Professor 'of 'Experimental chair he: has' held 1884, © derstood "that the value of 40 3 nee 1 3 like. £8,000. = * nor John Burns, the British' Cat part of the declared, Jem, simply for { relief. il in rel that er