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' God bless her for it! . tradict. him yet awhile; ‘ “as they make ’em." OR, A â€"(-â€"_ , meow o+o+o+o+o+o+om+o+o+o+o+o+0+o+o+0 CHAPTER XL.â€"â€"(Cr0ntinued). “Well, noâ€"rather grudgingly. “In fact, between you and me, considering that it is they who have brought him into this plight, I think they might have shown a little more solicitude about im. In the last ten days I do not be- lieve that they have been once to the door to inquire." __“You do not seem to be aware," says Jim, in a voice which, though quiet, is not pacific, “and that is odd, considerâ€" ing how often I told you, that until you came Mrs. Le Merchant nursed him like a mother; not like a mother in- deed"â€"correcting himself, with a someâ€" what malicious intentionâ€"“for mothers grpw flurricd, and she never did." ‘You mean that she nursed him bet- ter than I do,” in a jealous tone. “Well” â€"~niore generouslyâ€"“how shabby of me to mind, if she did! I do not mind. . I always thought" compunctiouslyâ€"“that she looked a nige' woman." , She is nice~as nice”â€"-descending in- to a slang unworthy of his ripe yearsâ€"â€" “And the girlâ€"f suppose one can hardly call her a girlâ€"looks nice too." 'lh-ey are pasing the Casbah, the solid Moorish fartifications, about which now hang only a few gaitered, sunburnt, baggy Zouaves. Jim has a silly hope that, if be main- tains an entire silence, the curent of his companions ideas may drift into ano- ther channel; but he is soon unde- carved. “'1 suppose that she must have been quite, quite young whenâ€"when those dreadful things happened that Willy talked about in his delirium ” Is it possible" â€"â€" indignant-lyâ€"“that you take the ravings of a fever-patient an“ pied de la lettre ?" No, .I do not; but"â€"â€"with an obsti- nate sticking to her point“there was a substratum of truth in them; that was “only too evident." Jim shuts his teeth t' h “is 1g t together. vow of silence is harder to keep (than. he had thought. "Since he came to himself he has- ne- ver mentioned her to me," continues his wginanion anxiously; “has he to you?." 0"’ .. .“I quite tremble whenever lie-opens his lips, lest he should be' going to be- gun the subject, and one could not con- _ I ‘ he is so quix- otic, it is quite likely that he may have some distorted idea that her beingâ€"how shall I say ‘Zâ€"fletrieLis an additional reason for standing by her, rehabilitat- mg her, marrying her. rous." They have left the Prison Civile and .the Zouave Barracks behind them. A He so chival- .~lor.ger interval than that usually sup- posed to elapse betwcn a remark and its rejoinder has passed, before Jim can bring himself to utter the following sen- tence with the calmness which he wishes : I “Has it never occurred to you that she may be chivalrous too ‘I" ' Perhaps Mrs. Byng does not readily find a response to this question; per- haps it sets her off upon a train of spec- ulation which does not eonduce to gar- rulity. Certain it is that, for the rest of the drive, she is as silent as .lim could wish her. It is a sharp surprise to him two days later to be mysteriously culled outside the sick man's door by her, in order to be informed that she has in- vited Miss Le Marchant to accompany her on a drive. ‘ “I went to call upon them. she says, avoidingâ€"or so he fancies it-his eye as she speaks; “and I asked the girl to drive with me to the Mole, and get a good blowing about." “How kind of you I" cries Jim,a flash of real pleasure in his serious look; ‘i‘hfnv like youâ€"like your real self, that s .’ And he takes her hand to thunk it by a friendly pressure. But. she draws it away rather hastily. “Oh, it was nothing so very wonder- fulâ€"nothing to thank me for.” She seems confused and a little guilty, and escapes with some precipitation from his gratitude. Mrs. Byng is not. a woman addicted to double-dealing. and if she ever makes any little essays in that direction, she does them. as on thisw' ".‘sent occasion, villainousli’. Burgoyne is not at the hull door to help the ladies into the carriage when they sot off. Perhaps this may be be- ll “ SAD LIFE STORY p "- panion lies any significance. But yet a tiny trembling bliss now and then taps at her heart's door, and she pushes it away but feebly. Before they have reached the Amirâ€" auto, where they are to get out, she has thande Mrs. Byng with such pretty and unsuspecting gratitude for bringing her, and has made her laugh so irre- pressibly by her gay and naive com- ments upon the motley passers-by, that the latter is filled with a compunctious regret that a person with such lovely manners, and such. a sense of a joke, should have made so disastrous a fiasco of her life as renders necessary the ex- tremely distasteful errand on whch she herself is at present bound. At the Amiraute, as I say, they get out; and, turning under a groined roof that looks as if it were the crypt of a church, find themselves presently upon the long stone breakwater that runs out. into the bay. It was built, they tell us, in old days by the wretched Christian cap- tives; but the sea has taken care that not much of the original labor of blood and tears has'survived. , The wind is high, and the sunshine ardent and splendid. On their right as they walk, with the wind ofliciously helping them from behind, in a world of dancing sapphire, each blue billow while tipped. On their left are great blocks of masonry, built strong and square, with narrow intervals between to break the might of the water. flow little their strength has availed against that of their tremendous opponent is seen at every 'step, since nearly half the blocks are overthrown or in semi-ruin; though the d.at-e_engi‘av-ed.upon them shows for how few seasons they have been. exposed to the ravages of the tem- estuous sea. They walk on to the end, till they can go ahead of them, the waves are rolling in half-fierce p1ayâ€"â€"though the day is all smilesâ€"over the breakwater: and even where they stand, their footing is made unsure by lengths of slimy sea- weed that set‘ them slipping along. Elizabeth insists upon the older woman taking her slight armâ€"insists upon car- rying her wraps, and generally waiting uponvand ministering to her. From the bottom other .heart Mus. By-ng wishes that she Would not, since every instance of lief-soft helpfulness, so innocent and spontaneous, makes more difficult the answer to that question which she has been asking herself ever since they set foot upon the Mole: “flow shall I begin ?" It is unanswered still, when, retrac- ing their steps a little, they sit down under the lee of one of the half-wrecked blocks to enjoy the view. From here the sea is a lake, the dis- tant mountains and the breakwater seeinhigâ€"though in. reality parted by how wide a wet wasteâ€"to join in em- bracing it. The mountains are dim and filmy to‘day, Cape Matifou scarcely visi- ble; but the Koubah shows while- domed on the hillside, and all the daz- zling water is hot through with blind- ing light. The town, Arab-French, is dazzling too; the arcaded quay,' the fortifications, one can scarcely look at any of them. Two or three steamers, with a little vapor issuing from their ugly black and rod funnels, lie moored and other smaller craft lift their spars against the heaven. Near by a man is sitting with his legs dangling over the water, fishing with a line; and two or three Arabs, draped in the dignity of their poetic rags, lie couch-ed round a fire that they have kindled. Beneath and around them is the hanging and thun- dering of the sea. August noise! “A voice like the sound of many waters." Could there be a more awful compari- son ? Just beneath them, where the sea has made a greater breach than usual, it is boiling as in a cauldron. Looking down and in, they see the water com- paratively quiet for a moment; then, with a shout of its jubilant voice, rush- ing and surging,r in, tossing its mane. Elizabeth's eyes are resting on the hea- venly sapphire plain. “flow blue 1” she says, under her breath; “one cannot. believe that it is not really blue; one feels that if one took up a little in a spoon it would be 'ust as blue ’as it is now.” “I daresay it will not: feel so blue when we are on it," replies Mrs. Byng, lugging in somewhat awkwardly, as she feels. the subject which she finds it so hard to introduce, “as I suppose we shall cause he is in attendance upon the in- be within a week now” valid. Perhaps becauseâ€"glad as he had Ilcr charity bids her not glance at her at 'i‘ll'Sit felt and express-rd himself at. companion as she speaks, so she is not their fi‘imidliness-â€"smne missions mny.| quite sure whether or nct she gives a start. upon reflection. have beset him at so strange a conjunction. At all events, “Mr. Burgoyne thinks I am sanguine; it is only Fritz who throws the light but I am all for moving him as soon as Arab rug over their knees and gives them his encouraging parting smile. * Poor Miss Le Manchaut needs his on- ccurugcment, for, indeed, it is in a very frightened spirit. that she sets forth on her pleasuriug. But before. the house bells have jiugled to the bottom of Mus- tapha Superieur, her spirits are rising. The sun shines. and he has shen-e so seldom in l-llizal.>elh‘s life that a very few of his beams, whether real or incin- pliorical suiliec to send up her quick- silver. elite does not. Consciously admit for a. an‘oud the hope that in the pre- sent’ overture. on the part of her com- j-ossible; it cannot be too soon.” She tries to throw as much signifi- cance as they are capable of holding in- to the latter words, and feels that she has succeeded. “Of course he may refuse to go.” con- tinues she. with a rather strained laugh. “no you remember Victor Ilugo‘s defi- nition of heaven as apiece where chil- dren are always little and parents are always young? I am continually. quot- ing it. But, unfortunately. one's chil- dren will not stay little; they grow big, and get wills of their own, and it is quite possible he may refuse to go." sentence~“anyon-e that was fond of him i that the only happy course i would be to go; ; dove-soft voice; _ dignity. no further, since, just- "Yes?" inaudibly. “But"â€"redd-ening slightly at the pa- tently-intended application of her next â€"â€"anyone that liked him really andâ€"â€" and disinterestedly, I mean, must see for , him that it would be his salvation to get away; theyâ€"they would ' not try to hinder him." “I should think that no one would do that." There is not a touch of asperity in the but there is a shade of “When he was illâ€"while he was de- lirius" (“flow dreadfully unpleasant it is t" in an anguished internal aside)â€" “I could not help hearingâ€"gatheringâ€" drawing inferences." The ardor of the chase, has vanquished her charity, and she is looking at her victim. But, to do her justice, the suc- cess of her labors shocks her. Can this little aged, pinched face, with its di- lated eyes, so full of woe and terror, be the same one that dimpled into riotous daughter half an hour ago at the sight of the two dirty old men, in Jewish guber- dincs and with gingham umbrellas, kiss- ing each other by the Mosquee de la Pecheric ‘? “Of course it was all incoherent," she goes on hurriedly, snatching at the first expression that occurs to her as likely to undo, or at least a little modify, her workâ€"“nothing that: one could make sense of. Only your name recurred-so incessantly; it was nothing but ‘Eliza- both, Elizabeth.’ I am sure"â€"â€"with a re- morscful if clumsy attempt to be kind, and a most uneasy smileâ€"~tliat I do not wonder at it!" In the narrow interspacc between the blocks and the pathâ€"not more than a couple of fingers wideâ€"how the sea forces itself 1 and up races its foam- fountains, throwing their spray aloft in such mighty play, as if they Would hit heaven’s arch. What exhilaration in its great glad noise, superb and battle ready ! , “I cannot express how distasteful a task this is to me”-â€"in a tone that oer- .ainly gives no reason to doubt the truth of her statement; “but, after all, 1 am his mother; he is all I have in the world, and I am sure that yen are the very last person. who would wish to do him an injury." flow curiously still and slow her voice is! Mrs. Byng has resolutely averted her eyes, so that her purpose may not again be shaken by the sight. of the havoc she has wrought, and has fixed them upon some scagulls that are riding up and down upon the merry waves, making them, with their buoyant mo- tion, even more jocund than they were before. “It seems an impossible thing to say to youâ€"a thing too bad to apologize for ' the way your folks look at it? it THE tillll. ABOUT THE IIOGS. Years ago, before we read farm papers very much, we made the mistake of al- lowing the pigs to depend too much on grass alone during the summer season, writes a correspomlcnt. Grass and exercise gave them plenty of frame, but not much fat. Our pigs went to market after two months’ feed- ing in cold weather, when they should have gone earlier in the season. Then we thought that we were grow- ing pork cheaply. Now we feed a part ration of grain while the pigs are on grass; not enough grain to make the pigs lazy, but enough to keep them growing faster than they ever did on grass alone, and they wind up their ca- reer before the weather gets very cold. It is the sow that is five or six years old that makes the best mother. Those that are too young are not the best ones. _ Sometimes the boys and girls like to get over into the pen and chase the pigs t) see them run. Fun for the children, but not so much for the pigs. It runs the flesh off faster than you can put it on. Better not do it, boys. All right to run, but do it somewhere else than .in the pig pen. Cleanliness is next. to good porkism. In most pens the one is just as uncom- mon as the other. “Nothing but a pi thing is good enough for him. g,” therefore any- 15 this If so, no wonder that you have never “done well" with pigs. . We must never speak or think slightingly of anything, if we expect to succeed. Same with pigs as with anything else. ' It- takes ten to thirty per cent. more feed for 100 pounds of gain on a scrub or no purpose hog, than it does to make an equal gain on a hog of the desirable form and bred for the purpose. A good hog man will not try to pro- sclyte a Berkshire or Duroc Jersey de- votee into at Chester or Essex breeder. lie will rather admire the special breeders's favorites, and be glad that he is urging improvements in stock, al- theugh they are not quite his own style of swine. - Even a careful breeder and improver (“1' common hogs is worthy of praise. Such men are frequently led to try one step further in advancement. ‘- " Sows should be weeded out as well as cows. Keep only good niilkcrs. Clean out the swill barrel. Rotten â€"â€"but yet I must say it"â€"-in a tone or sot-111 is unfit for hogs. excessive distress, yet firmness. “Un- , dcr the circumstances, it wouldâ€"-\vould throw a blight over his whole life." “Yes, I know that it would; always known it; that isi'why we left Florence." , V “And very good it was of you, too! Not that i am quite certain of the judi- ciousness of the way in which you did it; but, however, I am sure you meant it for the best." “Yes, i meant it for the best." The sea-gulls have risen from the bil- low, and are turning and wheeling in the air. The light is catching their wings, and making them look like whitest silver. It seems as if they were at conscious play with it, trying experi-' ments as to how they can best catch their bright pluyf-ellow, and again shake it off, and yet again recapture it. “What a -monster you must think me !" breaks out the older woman pie sently. Now that the impression has some- how been conveyed to her mind that her mission is likely to be completely suc- cessful, the full brutality of the method by which she has accomplished it bursts upon her mind. “How treacherous! luring yen out here, under the pretence of friendliness, i: say such horrible things to you l" Elizabeth's narrow hands are clasped upon her knee, and her small heart- broken, white face is looking out straight before her. “No, I do not think you a monster,” she ai'isweusâ€"“you are a kind-hearted woman! and it must have been very, very unpleasant- to you. I am quite sorry"â€"â€"with a sort of smileâ€"~“for you, having to do it; but. you are his mo- ther. If I had been his mother, I should have done the same; at least, I suppose so." “I am sure, if things had been differ- ent, there is no one that I should have â€"â€"I do not know when I ever saw any- one whom I took such a fancy to. If it had not been for the disparityâ€"I mean, if he had been less young and unfit to take. upon himself the serious responsi- bilities of life " flow deplorably lame even to Mrs. iyng's cars sound her tardy efforts to place the grounds of her objection on a less cruel basis than that which she has already made so nakedly plain to be the real one! Even the sweet-mannered lilizabrth does not think it necessary to express gratitude for such insulting civililies. “I do not quite understand what you wish me to do,” she says, with quiet politeness; “if you will explain to lllCâ€"â€"" - “Oh, I do not want to dictate to you ._ please do not. ii'nagiue 1 could think of being so impertincnt; but, of course, he will be asking for you. Since be came to himself, he. has not incntitmcd you as yet; but of course he will. I am expecting it. every moment; probably be has not felt up to embarking upon the subject. Ile will-ask for youâ€"will want to see you." “And you wish me not lo see him ‘3" (Tc be cantil’lllf‘d). .._._._..-)}I._â€"_ ~.. The Austrian birth-raite is '7 per cent. below that ,of England. I haveT Do not let your field work interfere with the pigs. "A hog can be reared in the pasture with the cattle, almost without cost. It will learn to love and to follow the cows as ..will a pet sheep. Free range hogs are healthy. if panned out of doors be sure to have a shelter from rain, and an awning of trees to shade from the sun. Hogs easily blister and suffer. Give them good water. SHEEP NOTES. The breeding buck should be well fed and kept away from the flock :0 that he will be ready for service by the first of September. Give him some bran, oats and good bright hay. Kean him in a cool pen with a yard attached, if convenient; or, if it can be so arrang- ed, give him a bit of grass and some exercise. Lambs should be weaned at about three months and put on fresh clover pasture. Each day some grain should be given in the trough to make growth and overcome the check that might be caused by weaning. They will also be more likely to re- main quiet than if poorly fed. One (r two good quiet ewes left with the flock will keep the lambs quiet. The fence should be looked after and put in order-at any places where the lambs might break through. If the lambs are put out of the hear- ing of the ewes, there is less danger of their breaking out or becoming unâ€" ruly. Give them salt, and look after the water supply. Hungry sheep sec weeds in fence cor- ners quicker than farmers do. tie. in the corners of old fences that. are not often seen or thought of, that weeds thrive, and a small band of inoffensive sheep will do a good work, to say no- givc in mutton and wool. 11‘ you can fence :1 bit of shady woods into the sheep pasture, do it. It will afford the sheep a place of retreat from tie torment of flies and bring many dollars into your pocket. It will do at any time to change sheep from a dry to a watered range; but the reverse of this has been always found injurious, particularly to i'iursing ewes and their lambs. Never allow strangers to intrude into the sheep pasture. Of all animals, sheep are most sensitive to fright. The sight of a dog will often worry the flock for weeks. To be chased by dogs means the ruin of the .hcrd. We have known more ' than one line flock to be spoiled by hav- ing been chased by dogs. The sheep -.nrvcr do well afterward. ABOUT CREANI’ Siil”.\lt.\'l‘f‘)l’.§. It is just as easy to handle the sep- arator right as it is the plow, or any olbrr implement. l‘rof. lirf lays down these four important points. l. The sprcd of the how! has an in- fluence on the cream. A change in speed from one separation to another. changes the per cent. of the fat of tho (.‘t'i'iilll. thing of the returns which they freely, ,-_,â€" M ________________..-â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"- the cream. If the milk is warm the cream will be thicker than a: cold. 3 The amount separated per hour is another factor. This is eSpccially im~ pcrtant. For, if the milk is unevenly fed into the bowl, the thickness of the cream is vastly influenced. 4. The amount of water or skim milk used to flush the bowl will affect the quality of the cream. All these tend to show that the sep- arator must be handled with care and good judgment. It is difficult to observe all the points mentioned, but they are so simple and apparent that. it would be very easy for the hecdless operator to pass over them. army on) ENGLAND NEW/S BY MAIL" ABOUT JOHN BULL“ AND HIS PEOPLE. .â€" the Land That Reign! Supreme in the Commercial “’orld. Occurrences in The dripping of rain through the roof of Ascot church led to the discovery ..f the theft of several inindredweight of lead from the flat which covers part. If the building. Owing to a water main bursting at lrighton, a great volume of water was sent. up to a height of 40 feet, drench- ing the roofs and pouring down the chimneys of the neighboring houses. The holding, of an hour‘s prayer- niccting was suggested at a meeting of the governors of the Oldham Infirm~ cry when it was pointed out that the arrears for the past six months amount- e. to £500. Seeing an otter in the water, a young man named Barker, who was beating recently in the River Eden at Kirkby Stephen, struck it with his oar. The c. tor jumped into the boat and attack- ed him, but after an exciting tussle Barker killed it. ‘ On a charge of breaking the largest sheet of plate glass in the world,which was slated to have cost £100 and to have taken forty men to place in the window of Messrs. Smith 5; Sons, Graoechurch street, England, William Wolfe .was committed for trial at the Mans‘on House. Before shooting himself at St. Bre- lade’s Bay Hotel, Jersey, a Frenchman named Dubois, wrote a letter bequeath- iug his body to the hospital for experi- ments ’ Great difficulty is being experienced in collecting rates, said the clerk to the Ellesmere Guardians, owingr to the late rate collector having spent over £73,000 out of his own pocket in paying rates for people. According to the agricultural returns on pig rearing and feeding, the year ended June, 1905. showed a demons: of 590,030 in the United Kingdom, and the year ended 1006 showed a further decrease of 00,624 in England alone. Professor Jules Gautier, who, swam from Richn'iond to l‘lutnoy with his feet and hands tied, has decided to attempt the cross-Channel swim. A tree planted some time ago at Tre- wid-den, Penzance, having borne a crop of bananas, a second tree has now been planted in the Morrab Gardens of that town. During an action at Wandsworth it was stated that every brewers’ drayman is allowed half a gallon of beer a day, which he can either drink on the spot or carry home. Land in Lincolnshire has depreciated to such an extent that 'l‘hetford House Farm, near Market Deeping. of 500 acres, which cost £32,000 in 1802, has just been sold for £14,000. Blackheath. residents are indignant at the proposal of .the Metropolitan Water Board to erect a water tower on the crest of Shooters-hill, and are cal- ling on the-board to find some other site for the “monstrosity.” “I know of one case where an over- coat .made fore-(is. was sold for £20," said Ilerhert Evans, factory inspector, who stated at. the I‘IOI‘llC~\VOl‘k Commis- sion that an all round price of 65. was paid for making. .74 -__....._.. NEW Ei'OCIl ARDEN CASE.’ Husband \Vent to South African War Eight Years Ago. ‘ An extraordinary story of a modern Enoch Arden is reported from Graves- cnd, England. ~ Among those who went out to the South African War was a local resi- dent named Motley. During the con- flict it was thought he was killed; in fact, his name was included in the list of those who lost their lives. Naturally enough, his friends mourn- ed for him, and the “widow” a short time ago remarried. To her amazement her husband turned up at Gravrsend last Thursday evening. He appears. on .his arrival, to have walked unconsciously into the shop of a butcher named Uutred, who had been one of his closest friends. Ouier gazed at him in lwwildermcnt.. “What are you doing here?" he gasped. “Where have you come from?” The “dead-alive” briefly explained matters, and -to celebrate his return no enjoyrd some rcfruslnncnt with his friend. Then Motley called on some other acquaintances, and. as may be imagined. they also were (lumfouuded. Very soon the strange tidings came to the knowledge of Mollcy‘s wife, and although naturally she at first refused to believe them, she yieldrd at length to the evidence. IIc-r srci‘uid husband is a steward :11 an ocnan lilltl‘, and is at present at sea â€"in ignorance of the fact that his wife‘s 2. The ten:p.rat.:re of the milk affects first husband has ucumc m me...