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"of tears on her cheeks. By ISABEL GORDON CURTIS, : 'Author of ** The Woman from Wolvertons " gratulabions and enthusiastic, was urging the earliest possible produc- tion. He offered unlimited money and insisted that the best company New York couil produce should be|® 'engaged. The spell of the story was still upon Dorcas. She passed out, * shaking hands hastily with Oswald. "Dorry," cried her brother. She did not. answer. ; "The play stirred her intensely," said Oswald. He" had noticed a trace "Was this the . first time she heard it rea?" "Yes, I had never even told her of . it. She has been away while--it was written." "Is your sister an actress?" "No--she wants to go upon the stage." . "Let her have her way," advised the Englishman. "Her every action shows that she possesses dramatic talent." "It isn't my idea of her future." "Stage life is exactly what ome chooses to make of it. Curiously en- ough. I have a conviction she could play Cordelia." Wentworth brushed his hand across his forehead and stared at the scat-! tered sheets of manuscript' on the table. "Get Merry here as soon as possible. I want a consultation with both 'of you," suggested Oswald while he drew on his gloves. "It is now only a mat- ter of time and a theatre. this side for Mrs, Esterbrook. I know a woman who can play that part to] perfection. Again let me congratul- ate you. the greatest I've heard in years. - bound to succeed." : Wentworth bowed, but a sudden flush blazed into his face. He was not hardened enough yet to accept con-| gratulations for the brain product of | another man. "Good-bye," said the Englishman holding out his hand cordially. "Good-by," murmured Wentworth. He moved to the window A carriage stood waiting in front of the house. He watched Oswald step into it and drive away. Suddenly he recollected that Dorcas I's had not spoken a single word of praise | or congratulation on the play. She was always enthusiastic and happy over every triumph that came to him. She must have thought well of the play. She had a full appreciation of Merry's talents and she had seemed to like him while they were together during the summer. He paused. to pull 'himself together mentally, then he called her. She came slowly. into the room, which hed grown dark. "Dorry," said Wentworth slowly, "do you know you have not said yet that you like--my play?" If. 1 may, advise now, don't choose anyone on' It's a great play, one of | a ay, 'The girl shoxe Iwan unsteady voles.|. .| "I 'don't believe, Enoch, that Andrew Merry. told you of a long talk we had left me alone with him when you were called to Boston. We sat on the rocks one afternoon and he told me his plot for this play--he had been thinking it out for years and years. Why," the girl shook her head impatiently, "why Enoch, He had labored on it so long that some of the speeches were writ- ten, in his mind. Sometimes he put dhe story into the very words you During a few minutes Enoch Went- worth fought the battle of his life. It was the struggle between good and evil, which every human being har- bors to a greater or lesser degree, in one soul, in one body. Wentworth sighed. The battle hael passed and evil had won. It was prepared to carry him through the most dangerous moment. With it came fresh valor, and not only the power to sin further, but a mysterious weakening of the moral tissues which made it possible for him to sin coolly and remorseless- ly. He turnéd on the light and with cool composure faced his sister, He met her gray eyes without a quiver. They asked a question which could not be evaded. "I hate to tell you, Dorcas," there was a tonc of reluctance in Went- worth's voice, "but Merry is down again, down in the gutter." The girl jumped to her feet. "I big believe it!" she cried. "Besides, if he were, what has that to do with his play?" Enoch did not answer, Instead he asked a question. "Doreas, do you' fo for--do you love--Andrew Mer- A flush blazed into the girl's face. {In spite of the telltale color her bro- ther believed her. "Yes, I care for Andrew Merry-- very much. I do not love him." Enoch gazed at her wistfully. He knew, as she did not; how easy it is to cross the bridge from mere friend- ship to love. "Why did you ask me that?" "I wanted to find out how much it would hurt, if I told you the truth. Merry is not worth your love, he is not 'even worth your friendship." "It is not true!" There was indig- nant protest in the woman's voice. "I know betier, so do you. Only this! does not explain about his .play, for it is his play." "You remember Point suddenly 7" "Yes," She raised her head with an eager gesture. "He went away to write this play." She pointed to the manuscript which lay on the table. "Yes," said Enoch slowly. "He be- gan bravely enough. Then--he went he left Juniper -, AMS = "PA ROWAXED" Is but another word refers to jams and preserves. for "insured" when it Molding, and fermentation are impossible when the jars are securely sealed with PURE REFINED PARAFFINE Parowax keeps the container air-tight. you Dave 4b the Jans securely same Ww. preserves will When parowaxed your en you open them as they were bo De, you put them up, -FOR THE LAUNDRY--See directions on Parowax labels for its use in valuable service service in washing. « ~ At grocery, department and general stores everywhere, THE IMPERIAL ' OIL COMPANY at Juniper Point. You remember you! 'slam behind him, then {length the possibility . of B close to the goal. loode pile of manuscript. "Perhaps--but it is not your Dorcas shook her head with ohefinate incredulity. "I told him so. I sugg make it a collaborated play." "Tt is not even a collaborated play, ti Enoch. Why, every situation, plot, even the very wonls, are his. "He wants me to father it." . "He must have changed since. said good-by to me. He was on then with hope and ambition." "He has changed," acceded Enoch' gravely. Ib was a relief to make one truthful statement. "Is he to play 'John Baterbrook? when it is produced?" ital "No other actor can. = Merry has the entire conception of it now." 5 "Where is he?" "I don't know." -"T thought you promised Mr. Oswald to have him here and get things start- ed for an early production?" "YT did. ® I am hoping to find Merry at one 'of his haunts. found and put on his fect, There's a tremendous lot at stake. = Dofry," he turned to her appealingly, "won't you help me?" "Tl help you," Dorcas spoke slowly, "if you can assure me of one thing." "What?" "That there is no wrong to be done." "There is no wrong to be done. Merry will have the opportunity of his life, if he can only be made to: sge it that way." "And there is no wrong to be right- ed. " "Then he must be found. When he is found," the girl spoke decisively, i "he must appear before the world the author of hig play." "He won't do it," answered Went- worth, He rose, put on his hat, anit went out. Dorcas heard the front door she laid her face on the arm of the sofa and burst into tears. CHAPTER VIL Suddenly, as if the earth had swal- lowed him, Merry disappeared. A week passed, Grant Oswald, in a 'fever of enthusiasm, had begun prepas rations for a Broadway production. He turned a vast amount of résponsi- bility over to Wentworth, who shoul- deréd it thankfully. It kept at arm's dwelling much with his own thoughts: they were not cheerful company, and he | was racked by constant anxiety about] Merry. = There was not a single mo- ment to spare when he could go into | the highways and byways of a great city to search, as he had searched be- fore when the man was his friend. He could not delegate the task to an- other. He had prepared a tale for, the public of Merry's whereabouts. ! Oswald believed the actor was stujly-! ing his part and stood ready to appear at a moment's' notice. ahead with the tremendous load of de- tail that fell upon him toiling day and night, while his mind alternated be- tween terror 'and hope. Every day the man was acquiring | traits new to his nature, When a strange accident hefd tossed before: him the possibility of satisfying: his dearest 'ambition, sciénce 'entréat- ed loudly against the theft of another man's life-work. Every noble instinct in Enoch made its appeal; his honesty, his generosity, an innate demand for| fair play, the love of his sister and friend, all cried aloud to him during! the lonely hours of the night. There had been moments when he would have gladly retraced his steps, but the die had been cast. He was like: a racer who, by some treacherous ruse, had pushed aside an opponent and was | th; The intoxication of applause was beginning to sound | "Iin his ears and the future held untold | ang possibilities. It was too late to turn back; it would mean the down fall of great ambitions and bitter shame--it might even mean erime. = It seemed easier to take the chances. Occasionally Andrew's dogged face| : flashed back to his memory when hel. erie, "I will see what the law can 301 ¢ to protect a man from theft." Enoch|you 3 1H Tae blanch at he Sought of He must, be} Enoch went] the smallest p shove the leve! e salary list gre "ifigures. ~ One vat Wentworth re- 'monstrated against paying one hun- dred dollars a week to an actor who was to play the janitor. : "Breen ig a far bigger man than you need," he objected. "He has played| {leads to many of the biggest stars.| 'We need a mere bit of character work in this--he isn't on the stage half an hour. I can get a first-rate man for half that price." i "Breen can make Janitor 80 true to life that 'the eo regret | aq seeing him for only half an hour," Os- wald rejoined. "That's the test of quality. 'When I pay a hundred dol- fo I want a hundred-lollar man." (To be conbinued.) MUNITION. MAKERS SUFFER Handling of Ex Explosives Gives) Rise to cases." g 1 The high pressure under which the production of munitions has had to be performed in Great Britain has brought with it destructive-maladies. These are particularly noticeable in connection with the manufacture of | high explosives. Thus in handling trinitrotoluol after a prolonged period one becomes drowsy, suffers from frontal headache, loss of appetite and may even become afflicted with a dis- 'tinctive eczema. Uliless ..2 operative takes a rest in time jaundice may 'supervene, with décided danger of Te. In a few instances death has been directly #raced to the handling of the explosive. ' Tetryl throws off a slight dust, which, unless timely precautions are taken, leads to troublesome eczema. Another medium inimical to health {s 'the varnish with which the wings and bodies of aeroplanes are treated. Tetra-chlorethane enters largely into i the preparation of this varnish, and this throws off a noxious vapor which produces drowsiness and loss of sp. | petite, and if work is persisted in ulti ately jaundi liver li tions. and coma. In this case an al-|4 ternative varnish has been discovered which is free from the evil consti- tuents ; but it has not come into general use for the simple reason that there are insufficient supplies of | the. necessary ingredients to meet de- ! mands. EY A DUKE'S GARDENERS. Three Employed on 'on. the Eaton Estate Exempted. y * Three married men employed on the Duke of Westminister's Eaton 'gar- (dens have been exempted condition. 'ally at Chester. It was stated that the duke wanted every available man liherated from the s and only the necessary labor retained, "Of the original staff of 50, 80 had left for service. Their places were kept open and 'wages paid, less the army pay, {sand making a yearly liability to the duke. of £4,340. .The head gardener said he had unsuccessfully tried to secure other labor. Eaton: gardens months. each year, and durin ast 20 years admissions for viey De orden and hall had resulted eae £16,00. for, charities. The: duke had lent the hall as a military hospital, 'heavier than ever. Grosvenor, hospital nurses helped in Hghtes work. valuable collection of b were. a » national asset. EEL Arthur | sid Bat le, were opened. to the publie' for six |p aio the the sion is made fo house to barn, alth whether it be long o traversed many sandy soil it is keep a fairly rth walk, Ty ea 'but in the cliy districts the walk cuts | up every spring and fall and is Shop py every rain. No one cularly desires to tramp ne pn mud when going to work or coming to meals and Jet thousands of families living on farm must do that very " Blocks of wood or old boards are Sometimes thrown down. to walk on bub at best they are only a tem-| porary arrangement and soon break up or get displaced. A permanent concrete walk is within reach of most farmers, The gravel can be hauled in the winter when the teams are not busy and experts are not required to lay the walk. Any handy man could mix the gravel and put it down in a short time. On a farm tly . visited there was a Jam, rogantly 31s 'walk from ap, house to barn and In the estimation |. of the writer it added many. dollars, to the value of the farm. One could 80 to the milk-house or barn in com- even in the wetbest season. The walk also aided in keeping dirt from being carried into the house on the men's boots. The walk was about five inches thick. The bottom four inches was made of one part cement bo eight parts good gravel and the top inch was one part cement to three parts sand. It was blocked off in three-foot squares, except where the wagons crossed and there it was in six inch} squares. There is always a danger of frost heaving a concrete walk, but this can be largely overcome by good drainage. In building a walk, trench is dug about four inches wider than is desired, and four inches deep. Two by four scantlings 'are then stak- ed in place and raised one inch from the bottom, to hold the conerefe until it sets, then they should be removed. The cement and gravel should be thoroughly mixed before being Placed in the trench. An iron. or block may be used to pack the con= crete. A thin iron may be put across the walk every three feet to divide it into blocks. -This can be removed when the concrete has set. Frequent-| ly heavy iron is used to. cut the blocks | 4p after they have partially set. Either method is practicable. The expense |g of a walk for the average farm is not great... When the "distance 'is hundred' yards, about eleven cubic|aoq yards. of gravel, three cubic yards of : fifteen and one-half tent would be sufficient bo put in fungi, walk. and the demand for vegetables 'was | lay th TAR Sas feet wide, wider if possiblel Seid Silos.--Build to feed 30 pounds a day to each head. Make the height two and one-half to three times The diameber. 'Bunild small diam high rather than wide and ow. = vide feed for at vis ia 81 A 3 1 3 te 335 030 cows 190 ny: 236 bonis 60 to 0 70 cows' 180 days. Better Bodied Butter 'The people who buy 'the Higher: grades of butter are people who are familiar with the is aualicy. of Tood, They They bib id and will hold 7 shape' ise it has a good body. The wants of the consumer should be close" ly studied by the producer, and when they desire butter of a particular tex-. ture, color or salt, the producer should immediately fall in with the 'tion as though he were an i trying to increase his trade by cal ing to their demands. The sooner that the small cream- eries which are receiving good raw material awaken to this fact the bet-- ter it will be for them. If we are go- g to accept this excessive overrun as one of the good qualities in butter- making, and let it be recognized next to flavor, we should then change the system of scoring, and instead of hav- ing the texture or body follow flavor, we should have overrun follow flavor, then to texture, color and package. This, to me; would be ridiculous, for the simple reason that the consumer does fot want any 'more wabsr and salt in the butter than is necessary and he wants a good body. He is the 0 | final judge and must be pleased. --Ex- tract from address by. P.H H. Kieffer. Salting ing Hay. As a rule when there is nob m has been well . advantage in salting hay, but if for any reason it is little damp or has been much dam an efore : jtiis u salt to i i si a ide prevents. the gro and makes b of molis and hay more palat- at LEE is 07 ig r ton of hay. It