The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on January 20, 1892 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

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Wednesday, January 20, 1892
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THE trppEE DES MOINES, ALGONA, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 20,1892, ILOVE'S VICTORY. B8KTHA M. OtAt. HHe opened the p'arcel.•'• lt f contained a mo- Hpcocasd, the lid of-whi.ch, upon a spring Ring touched, flew backvexposing a beautl- Etl Suite bf rubies set in phie gold. •MJaa Hastings .uttered a little cry of de- Ifcht. -. ' .--. .•-: • ,;„.•;• K 1 'lSow. .Very beautHul!' 1 she..said'. i ."YeS,*' respUftle'il - ; Sit'' Oswald, holding pern up to the light, "they, aM,' indeed. I Bin sure we nuisj: congratulate Lady JDarrell ipori her good taste. 1 suggested' diamonds or peat-Is,- but slw thought iiibiesso.muph bet' pi-.suited to-Pauline's-dark beauty; .and she | quite right,' 1 f •"''" . . "••':"" I LadyDaltell' liclil lip Hie'shining rubies with her white lingers, biit she did hot smile; |,look of something like apprehension came fever the fair face. I. a i hqpe'f'aujine will like them,".she said; lentljk-'•••''••''•-," : •'-' " ' :.., .; _' ; I-"Slio caiinbt: fail to. do so," remarked Sir |)swald, with-some lUtle.7wi.it/eur. •'•"!• will leil her. that you want to speak to her." I He went over tu,, the deep'recess of the large.window,' yvhi'iv Paulino sat t'oadiiig. itltfliad felt very sure th'a'tshe would be flat- Wed by the rich ami spleridid gift. There ifaad been some little pride, and some little fj'omp In his manner .as ho went in search of her, but it seemed to die away as he looked |Mer face. That was not the face of a girl fmB could be tempted; pleased, or- coaxed mm jewels. 'Insensibly his manner chang- Bu$i%. . 'auline," he said, gently, "Lady Darrell He's to speak to you." iero was evidently a struggle in her mind | whether she should comply or not, and j'she rose and without a word walked up je little group. yhat do you require, Lady Darrell?" she id; and Miss Hastings looked up at her [ quick apprehension. jhe fair face of Laily Darrell looked more iibled than pleased. Sir Oswald stood by, [ttlo more stately and proud than usual— pdofhis niece, proud of his wife, and [bed with himself. J have brought you a little present, Pau- S, from Paris," said Lady Darrell. "I |e it will give you pleasure." SSfou were kind to remember me," observ- Pauline. ' Jr Oswald thought the acknowledgment itoocool and calm. • • IThoy are the finest rubies I have seen, iline; they are superb stones." !e held them so that the Ifght gleamed In fm until they shone like lire. The proud, lark eyes glanced indifferently at them. S^fWhat have you to say to Lady Darrell, *fluline?," asked Sir Oswald, growing angry ,iher silence. o?he girl's beautiful lips curled. H'Lady Darroll was jrood to think of me," je saitl, coldly; "and the jewels are very |e; but they are not suitable for me." [Her words, simple as they wore, fell like a iftndcrcloiul upon the little group. ffiAnd pray why not?" asked. Sir Oswald, Bgrily. I'Your knowledge of the world is greater ian mine, and will tell you better than I jjn," she replied, calmly. "Three months jfice they would have been a suitable pros- tot to ono in the position I held then; now £ '—~ are quite out of place, and I decline icm." ||"l'ou decline them!" exclaimed LadyDar- [jjj^ll, hardly believing that it was in human |Iiaturo to refuse such jewels. || Pauline smiled calmly., repeated tho words, and walked away. | Sir Oswald, with an angry murmur, replaced the jewels in tho ease and set it aside. "She has the Dirrcll spirit," he said to his wife, with an awkward smile; and she devoutly hoped that IKT husband would not often exhibit tho same. CITAPIUSU XXIV. A.TIWK DAllliKT.Tj. The way in which tho girl supported her llisappointment was lofty in tho extreme. She bore lu:r defeat as proudly as some would liavii borne a viciory. Jx'o one could have told jtrrtm her i'nce or her manner that sho had suffered a grievous defeat. AVhon she allurt- l to the change in her position, it was with t certain proud humility that had in it noth- ig approaching meanness or envy. g^Ujd'not seem that she felt the inoney- Jj,I| was not the disappointment about iejjjrealth ami luxury. It was rather an v "i)ded distress that she had been set j unworthy to represent the race of jjjrrells—that she n "real" Darrell, had id to make way for what, in her jiiid, sho called a "baby-faced stran- ; her training and education, on i her dear lather had prided himself, I be cast in her 1'acn as unworthy and eVving of reproach, lie and his artist- §'jids had thought, her perfection; that "perfection" on which thuy had prided Snsolves, and fur which they had so prais- r" "I flattered her, was tho barrier that had id between her and hi'i- inheritance. f 4 It was a painful position, but her manner [of! bearing it was exalted. She had not been a favorite—tho prido, tho truth, tho inde- ' pemlenco of her naluru hud forbidden that. She had not sought the liking of strangers, nor courted their usli'em; she imd not been sweet and womanly, weeping with those who wi.'pt, and ivjoicing with those who rejoiced; sho .had looked around her with a scorn for conventionalities that had not sat well 11)1011 ono so young—and now sho was to pay. tho penr-ity for all this. Sho knew that people, talked about her—that they said : sho was rightly punished, justly treated— that it was a blessing for the whole county i have a proper J/idy Darroll at Darroll SJDourt. Sho knew tlint among all the crowds vho ca-:m-i io thu Court there was not one who synipathi/t'd with her, or who cared in the least tor her disappointment, No Darroll over showed !:iv;vt(-r bravery than shu did in her manmir of brarin;.- ii|i under disappointment. Whatever she t'olt or thought was most adroitly concealed. Tho Spartan boy was not braver; she gave no sign. No humiliation scorned to touch her, sho carried herself loftily; nor could any one humiliate her when she did not humiliate herself. Even Sir Oswald admired her. "Sho is a true Darrell," ho said to Itfiss Hastings; "what a grand spirit the girl has, to bo suro 1" The Court was soon one scene oi gayety. Lady Darrell soonied determined to enjoy her position. Thoro were garden parties a't which she appeared radiant in tho most charming costumes, balls whore herelegauco ami delicate beauty, her thoroughbred grace, made her the queen; and of all this gayety she took the lead. Sir Oswald lavished every luxury upon her—her wishes wore gratified, almost before they were expressed. • Lady Hampton, calling rather.earlier than usuaj one day, found her in her luxurious dressing-room, surrounded by such treasures of silk, velvet, lace, jewels, ornaments of every description oil the most costly and valuable kind, that her ladyship looked roundjn astonishment, "ftly dearest Elinor," she said, "what are you doing? .What beautiful confusion!" Lady Parrel! raised her fair face, with a delicate flush and a halt-shy glance. "Look, a,uot." she said, "i am really over- whelmed." "What does It mean?" asked Lady Hampton. "It means that Sir Oswald Is too generous. These large boxes have .just arrived from Paris; ho told me they were a surprise for me— a present from him. Look at .the, contents — dresses of all kinds, lace, ornaments, fans, slippers, gloves, and such articles o/ luxury as can be bought only in Paris. . :I. am really ashamed.' 1 . ... "Sir Oswald Is, Indeed generous," said Lady Hampton ; then she looUed;. round the rodm to see if they wci'.e quite alone-: The.maid had disappeared. "Ah, Elinor," remarked Lady Hampton, "you are indeed a fortunate woman; your lines have fallen In. .pleasant places. Ybu might have looked aH England over and not have found such a husband. J am quite sure of one thing— you have everything a wo- ma.n's heart can desire." "I make no complaint," said Lady Darrell. ."My dear child, I should Imagine not; there are few women in England whoso • position eqjjals yours.!' ; ". . • .. "I know it," was the calm reply. "And you may really thank : hie for it; 1 certainly worked hard for you, Elinor. 1 believe that if Iliad hot interfered you' would have thrown yourself away mi that Captain Lwigton." "Captain Laiigton never gave me the chance, aunt;:so wo willnotdlsciiss the question." "It was a very good tiling for you that he never did," remarked her ladyship. "Mrs. Brctherton was saying to me the other day what a Very fortunate girl you wore— how few of us have our heart's desire." "You forget one thing, aunt. Even if I have everything I want, still my heart Is empty," said the girl, wearily. Lady Hampton smiled. "You must have your little bit of sentiment, Elinor, but you are too sensible to let it interfere with your happiness. J low arc you getting on with that, ferrible Paulino? 1 do dislike that girl from the very depths of my heart." Lady Darrell shrugged her delicate shoul- •ders. "There, is a kind of armed neutrality between us at present," she said. "Of course, I have nothing to fear from her, but I cannot help feeling a liltli.- in dread of her, aunt." "How is that'.' ' aslcod Lady Hamilton, contemptuously. "She is a/gtrl I should really delight to thwart and contradict; but, as for being afraid of her, I consider Fiampton, the butler, a far more formidable person. Why do you say that, Elinor?" "She has a way with her— I cannot describe it— of making every one else feel small. I cannot tell how she does it, but she makes mo very uncomfortable." "You. have more influence over Sir Oswald than any one else in tho world; if she troubles you, why not persuade him to send her away?" "1 dare not," said Lady Darrell; "besides, I do not think he would ever care to do that." "Then you should be mistress of her, Elinor—keep her in her place." Lady Darrell laughed aloud. "I do not think even your skill could avail here, aunt. She is not one of those girls you can extinguish with a frown." "How does she treat you, Elinor? Tell me honestly," said Lady Hampton. . "i can hardly describe it. She is never rude or insolent; if she were, appeal to Sir Oswald would be very easy. She has a grand, lofty way with her— an imperious carriage and bearing that I really think he admires. She ignores me, overlooks me, and there is a scornful gleam In her eyes at times, when she does look at me, which says more plainly than words. 'You married for money.' " "And you did a very sensible thing, too, my dear. I wish, 1 only Wish Iliad the management of Miss Darrell; I would break her spirit/if it is to be broken." "I do not think it is," saitl Lady Darrell, rising as though she were weary of tho discussion. "There is nothing in her conduct that any one could find fault with, yet I feel she is my enemy." "Wait a while," returned Lady Hampton; "her turn will come." And from that day the worthy lady tried her best to prejudice Sir Oswald against his proud, beautiful, wayward niece. CIIAPTEB XXV. A I'TOZLING QUESTION. "Does Miss Darrell show any signs of disappointment?" inquired Lady Hampton one day of Miss Hastings. Miss liastings, although she noticed a hundred faults in tho girl which she would fain have corrected, had nevertheless a true, strong, and warm affection for her pupil; she was not one therefore to play into the enemy's hand ; and, when Lady Darrell fixed her eyes upon her, full of eagerness and brightened by euriosit..". MIPS Hastings quietly resolved not to gratify her. "Disappointment about what?" she asked. "I do not understand you, Lady Hampton." "About (lie property," explained Lady Hampton, imp.Uienlly. "Slio made so very sure of it. I shall never forget her insolent conlidence. ]>.> tell me, is sho not greatly annoyed and disappointed?" •'Not in the way you mean. Lady Hampton. She has never spoken of such a thing." Her ladyship felt piqued; sho would have preferred to hear that Paulino did feel her loss, and was grieving over it. In that case she would have baeu kind to her, would have relented; but tho reflection that her prido was still unbending annoyed her, and sho mentally resolved to try if she could not force the girl into some expression of her feelings, it was not an amiable resolve, but Lady Hamilton was not naturally an amiable woman. Fortune favored her. That very day, as sho was leaving the Court, she saw Paulino standing listlessly by the lakeside feeding tho graceful white swans. She went up to her with a malicious smile, only half-vailed by her pretended friendly greeting. "How do you do, Miss Darrell? You are looking very melancholy. There is nothing the matter, I hope?" For any one to attempt to humiliate Pauline was simply a waste of time; the girl's natural character was so diguitied that all attempts of tho kind fell through or told most upon her assailants. She answered Lady Hampton with quiet politeness, her dark eyes hardly resting for a moment upon her. ' "You do not seem to liud much occupation for your leisure hours," continued Lady Hampton. "You are making the round of the grounds, I suppose? They are very beautiful. 1 am afraid that you must feel keenly how much my nlauo has deprived you of. 1 ' It was not a lady-like speech; but Lady Hampton felt irresistibly impelled to make it— the proud, detiant.be'auliful face provoked her. Pauline merely smiled; she had self- control that would have done honor to one much older and more experienced. "Your niece lias deprived me of nothing, Lady Hampton," she returned, with a curl of the lip, for which tho elder lady •could have shaken her. "I possess one great advantage of which no one living can deprive me— that is, tho Darrell blood rims in my veins." . , . , '.' . Ami, with a bow, she walked avyay .leaving her ladyship move angry than giro would have cared to own,. So Pauline mot aU-hor enemies. Whatever she might suffer, they should not triumph over her. Even sir Oswald felt himself comitelled to yield tq her ail anmifation tnai he nan never given Defore. ; • '_.•.'•' ' : He was walking one evening 6n the terrace. The .western sunbeams, lingering oil the grand bid building, brightened it Into beauty. Flowers, trees;'.hnd slmtbs weio all in theh- fullest loveliness. ]*i-esently Sir Oswald, leaning over the balustrade of the terrace, saw Paulino sketching in the grounds .below. He went to her, and looked over her shoulder. She was just completing a-sketch of the great western tower of the Court; ami he was struck with,; the vivid beaiity of Hie .drawing. • ,'. ' "You lo.ve Darrell Court, Pauline?" he said, gently. She raised her face to his for a minute: the feud between them was forgotten. She'only remembered that he was a Darrell, and she his nearest of kin. . "1 do love it, uncle," she said, "as pilgrims love their favorite shrine: It is the homo of beauty, of romance, the cradle of heroes 1 ; every stone is consecrated by a legend. Love Is a weak word for what 1 feel." He looked at the glowing face, and for a .few. moments "a doubt assailed him as to whether he had done right in depriving, this true Darrell of her inheritance. "But, Pauline," he said, slowly, "you would never have " She sprang from her seat wlllua quickness that almost startled him. She had forgotten all that had happened; but now it all returned to her with a bitter pang that could not be controlled. "Hush, Sir Oswald 1" she cried, interrupting him; "it Is too late for us to talk about Darrell Court now. Pray do not misunderstand me; I was only expressing my belief." She bent down to take up her drawing materials. "I tlo not misunderstand you, child," ho said, sadly. "You love it because it is the home of a race you love and not tor its mere worth in money." Her dark eyes seemed to flash with fire; the, glorious face had never softened so before. "•You speak truly," she said; "that Is exactly what 1 mean." Then she went away, liking Sir Oswald better than she had ever liked him In her life before. He looked after her half sadly. "A glorious girl 1" he said to himself; "a true D.irreil! 1 hope 1 have not made a mistake." Lady Darrell made no complaint to her husband of Pauline; the girl gave her no tangible cause of complaint. She could not complain to Sir Oswald that Pauline's eyes always rested on her with a scornful glance, half-humorous, half-mocking. She could not complain of that strange power Miss Darrell exercised of making her always "feel so small." She would gladly have made friends with Miss Darrell; she had no idea of keeping up any species of warfare; but Pauline resisted all her advances. Lady Darrell had a strange kind of half-fear, which made her ever anxious to conciliate. She remarked to herself how firm and steadfast Pauline was; there was no weakness, no cowardice In her character; she was strong, self-reliant; and. discerning that, Lady Darrell asked herself oft™. "What will Pauline's vensreanee be?" The question puzzled her far more than she would have cared to own. What shape would her vengeance assume? What could she do to avoid it? When would it overtake her? Then she would laugh at herself. What was there to fear in tho wildly-uttered, dramatic threats of a helpless girl? Could sho take her husband from her? No; it was not in any human power to do that. Could she take her "wraith, title, position, from her? No; that was impossible. Could she make her unhappy? No, again; that did not seem to be in her power. Lady Darrell Would try to laugh, but one look at the beautiful proud face, with its dark, proud eyes and linn lips, would bring the coward fear back again. She tried her best to conciliate her. She was always putting little pleasures, little amusements, in her way, of which Pauline never availed herself. She was always urging Sir Oswald to make her some presents or ro grant her some indulgence. She never interfered with her; even when suggestions from her would have been useful, she never made them. She was mistress of the house, but she allowed the utmost freedom and liberty to this girl, who never thanked her, and who never asked her for a single favor. Sir Oswald admired this grace and sweet' liess in his wife more than lie had ever admired anything else. Certainly, contrasted with Pauline's blunt, abrupt frankness, these pretty, bland, suave ways shone to advantage, lie saw that his wife did her best to conciliate the girl, that she was always kind and gracious to her. He saw, also, that Pauline never responded; that nothing ever moved her from her proud, deliant attitude she had from the first assumed. He said to himself that he could only hope; in time things must alter; his wife's caressing ways must win Pauline over, and then they wi.uld be good friends. So he comforted himself.and tho edge of the dark precipice was for a time covered with flowers. The autumn and winter passed away, spring-tide opened fair and beautiful, and Miss Hastings watched her pupil with daily increasing anxiety. Pauline never spoke of her disappointment; she bore herself as though it had never happened, her pride never once giving way; but, for all that, the governess saw that her whole character and disposition was becoming warped. She watched Pauline in fear. If circumstances had been propitious to her, If Sir Oswald would have but trusted her, would but have had more patience with her, would but have waited the sure result of a little more knowledge and experience, sho would have developed into a noble and magnificent woman, sho would have been one of the grandest Darrells that ever reigned at the old Court. Hut Sir Oswald had not trusted her; he had not been willing to wait the result of patient training; he had been impetuous and hasty, and, though Paulino was too proud to own it, the disappointment preyed upon her until it completely changed her. It was all the deeper and more concentrated because she made no sign. This girl, noble of soul, grand of nature, sensitive, proud, and impulsive, gave her whole life to one idea—her disappointment and tho vengeance duo it; the very grandeur of her virtues holpud to intensify her faults; tho very strength of bet 1 character seemed to deepen and darken the idea over which she brooded incessantly by night and by clay. She was bent on vengeance. CIIAl'TEU XXVI, sin OSWALD'S DOUBTS It was the close of a spring day. Lady Hampton had been spending it at Darrell Court, and General Deering, an old friend of Sir Oswald's, who was visiting In tho neighborhood, had joined tho party at dinner. When dinner was over, and tho golden sunbeams were still brightening Hie beautiful room, he asked Sir Oswald to show to him tho picture-gallery. "You have a line collection," he said— every one tells mo that; but it is not only the pictures I want to see, but the Darrell Sivces. I heard tho other day that the Darrells were generally acknowledged to be the handsomest race in England." The baron's clear-out, stately face flusked a little. ;' "I hope England values tisror somet-ning more useful than merely handsome face's," he rejoined,'with a touch of hauteur thai made the general smile. "Certainly," he hastened to say; "but in this age 1 , when personal beauty is said 1 to be on the decrease, it is something to own a handsome face." The picture-gallery was a'very' extensive one; it was wide and well lighted, the floor was covered with rich crimsdn cloth, white statues gleamed from amid crimson velvet hangings, the walls were covered with rare and valuable pictures. But General Deering saw a picture that day in the gallery which lie was never to forget.' Lady Hampton was not enthusiastic about art unless there was something to be gained by it. There was nothing to excite her cupidity now, her last niece being married, so her. ladyship could afford to take.matters calmly; she reclined at .her ease on one of the' crimson lounges, and enjoyed the luxury of a quiet nap.' ' •'• The general paused for a while before eoine of Horace. Vernet's battle-pieces'; they delighted him. Pauline had walked oil., to. the end of .the gallery, and Lady Darrell, always anxious to conciliate her, had followed. The picture that struck tho general most were the two ladies as they stood side by side—Lady Darrell with the sheen of gold In ner halr,the soft lustre of gleaming pearls on her white neck, tho fairness of her face heightened by its dainty rose-leaf bloom, her evening dress of sweeping white silk setting off the graceful, supple lines of her figure, all thrown'into such vivid light by the crimson carpet on which she stood and tho background of crimson velvet; Pauline, like some royal lady in her trailing black robes, with the massive coils of her dark hair wound round the graceful, haughty head, and her grand face with its dark, glorious eyes, and rich, ruby lips. The one looked fair, radiant, and charming as,a Parisian coquette; tho other, like a Gr:.Tian goddess, superb, magnificent, queenly, simple in her exquisite beauty—art or ornaments could do nothing for her. "Look," saitl the general to Sir Oswald, "that picture surpasses anything you have on your walls." Sir Oswald bowed. "What a beautiful girl your nleee is!" the old soldier continued, ".-ec Imw her face resembles this of Lady Edolgitha Darrell. Pray do not think mo impertinent, but I cannot imagine, old friend, why you married, so devoted to bachelor life as you were, when you had a niece so beautiful, so true a Darroll, for your heiress. I am puzzled now that 1 see her." "She lacked training;," said Sir Oswald. "Training,?" repeated the general, contemptuously. ."What do you call training? Do yon mean that >hc was not experienced in all the little trilling details of a dinner- table—that she couid not smile as she told graceful little nut ruths'. 1 Training! Why, that girl Is a qiieen among women; a noble soul shines in her grand face, thern is a royal grandeur of nature about, her that traiiling could never give. I have lived long, but I have never seen such a woman." "She had such stramr'. 1 , out-of-the-way, unreal notions, 1 thred not— thnl is the truth—I dared not leave Darrell Court to her." "1 hope you have acted wisely," said the general; "but. as an old friend and a Iruo one. 1 must say that 1 doubt it." "My wife, I am happy to s-iy. lias plenl.y of common sense," observed Sir Oswa.ld. "Your wife," returned Hut general, looking at the sheen of the golden hair ami the shining dress, "is pretty, graceful, and amiable', but that girl lias all tin; soul; there is as iiiueli difference between them as between a golden buttercup and a dark, stalely, queenly rose. The rose should have^ been ruler at Darrel.l Court, old friend." (To be continued.) THK HOtTSEHOLli. A Winter Night. BKUNABD BAIITON. A winter night I the stormy wind is high, Rocking the leafless branches to and fro; Tne Bailor's wife shrieks as she hears it blow, And mournfully surveys tne starless sky. The hardy shepherd turns out fearlessly Toteud his lleecy charge in drifted snow; And the poor homeless child of woe Sinks down, perchance, in dumo despair to die I Happy the fireside student; happier still The social circle round the blazing hearth, If, while these estimate aright the worth Of every blessing which their cup may fill, Their grateful hearts with sympathy can thrill For every form of wretchedness on earth. Kansas Philosophy. Many men miss the opportunity to earn corn bread while dreaming of pie. A man never knows how large the world is until he tries to travel on his fame, When a man offers to Sght, he is either a fool, or he believes the other fellow will back eut. You will limit the number of your troubles i£ you limit the number you tell them to. How very few people there are who spend to-day in making memories that will be pleasant to-morrow.—Atchison Glohe. Still Going:. One day a lie broke out of its inclosure and started to travel. And the man who owned the premises saw after it had started and was sorry he had not made the inclosure air-tight. So he called his swiftest truth and said; , "A lie has got loose and will do much mischief if it is not stopped, I want you to go after it and bring it back or kill it r Bo the swift truth started out after the lie. But the lie had one hour the start. At the end of the first day the lie was going lickety split. The truth was a long way hehind it and was getting tired, It has not yet caught up. And never will.—Chicago Tribune. Southern Slope for Sheep, Every'observing shepherd has noticed that sheep have their decided preferences in a rolling or hilly pasture, generally choosing a southern or eatern slope. Old farmers are accustomed to explaining this by saying it is because the grass on these poorer exposures i» shorter and sweetbr. Doubtless this is one reason, but there is probably another. These southern slopes are nearly always -wind-swept and sunburned, and receive no deposit of frost leaves, hence the bedrock is close to the surface and frequently crops out in shelly ledges. This character of the soil gives the grass a more mineral and earthy character than that on the n-rthern slopes; for on the latter the soil is generally red clay and strong with the humus of vegetable mold smelting from the rotted forest leaves of centuries. Tht> fondness of sheep for mineral matters in their feed is noticeable, and these .tend to healthfulnesf. Grass growing on rank flat lands is act to pnaduce murrain, or "black-rot" while the sWrt tender herbage on rocky slopes, being rich in siltica, lime potash, etc., keeps the blood pure and the fieeh and bones well nourished,—Western Rural, FARMABHOME. XJGliT IX DARKNESS* Where Is the 'bine calm, Hint mantled old ccean, In'the halcyon June day?, when no breeze, was . blowing; When by the .idle mast hnng down each loose >all, ( And the sailor slumber'df \Vhere is the garland green of .September's for" • ' est— With song of'bltd ahtt hum of lice, musical and mnrmnrous? .. Where are the flowers and the fruits of that'bright time^ •.•. • .-..- \ . Where are t..e odors? Dream-like they perished all-perished and pass'd away; And to the harvest moon, where the wheat sheaf nodded, From the bare stubble-fleld pipes the widowed partridge For her slaughtered young ones, Gloomy and drear in thine aspect, Oh winter wild I With thy staff of icicle, with thy cloak of frpit- • fog, ' ' Yearly to blast all tho beauties of nature Thou Com'st like a niijht-mare. Yet let us think not, savage tho' thy looks be, That of his handiwork mindless of the Maker, Iwas mid the season of etorm that the sky- boin Came to redeem us I When in eailt and misery sunk was the wide world, A recreant, a lost, a perishing creation. From the celestial abodes of his glory Jesus descended. Sunk Itad the eu», and tho raven wings- of darkness Brooded o'er earth; when, beautiful in brightness, h Shone the promised star, and eastward descending J-ed on the wise mon. Watching thsir night (locks lay Judea's sheD- lierds, .Mantle-emvrapt, beneath the stately palms, Glory burn d o'er them, and mid choirinc music, fa Thusspako the angel: '• "i'ear not—good tidings I bring to you-fear This day isboru to you Christ the Hedeemer- Hiiete ye to Bethlehem, and see the world's Laid in a manger." To the city of David journoy'd up the wise men; Up went the shepherds; and lol the infant The griieloV the glorious, the son of tho Menial, AB the angel told them. Rattle and rave, then, tornado and tempest, O or the joyless roof-tree bluster, and beat very But mini has a home, where the arm of your Never can reach him. FARM NOTES. Huiry hurts more than it helps. Train your colts slowly; teach as you train. The scarcity of epgs is .largely owing to improper feeding, says a poultiv keeper. Uniform feeding of sheep during a given preceding winter is necessary to prevent losing wool in the succeeding spring. Stocky cabbage and tomato plants are more desirable than those that are tall and spindling, 'and willrnake a better growth. System and ordar are great factors for the accomplishment of purposes. They make things go smoothly and prevent a vast deal o£ worriment and vexation of spirit. If you have high, rolling land -and no sheep you are not consulting your own interests. Such land is not absolutely necessary, but it is best. Any dry land will do for sheep. If you want a first class price for your honey use the best white poplar sections, ship in six pound crates, and carefully remove all the bee glue from the sections so that the conib will look slick and span. Wheab chaff may be advantageously used as bedding in the pis? quarters, as it is an excellerfc absorbent, can be easily removed* and makes the floor clean and dry. Rations for Stock. It does not pay to feed potatoes to stock unless they are very low in pripe. In proportion to the amount of solid matter in potatoes (they being composed mostly of water) they are expensive, and should only be substituted for grain as an article of diet in promoting the condition of animals by a change ef food. Water Your Ileus. Fowls require a great deal of water, drinking only a small quantity at a time; so it should be supplied abundantly, and kept clean and fresh. Fowls require, and mast have, carbonate and phosphate of lime for their shells, and it must be given them in unstinted quantities, and in the most convenient inunuer for them to pick and swallow into the crops. Intellectual farming. r~~~i The farm is worthy all the mental and physical exercise we can exert. When we realize success therefrom, not ssoner, we shall be able to hold up our ends in other things. Until the agriculturists will do well to give thair whole attention to then- holdings. Keep at it. Nature loves a persistent wooer. Profit Iu Poultry. The farmer who will reason upon the matter candidly just now is bound to ad- rait that it pays to keep poultry. What is more appreciated upon the table at this season than fried chicken, roasted turkey, duck or goose? The poultry keeping farmer can dine every day off the best the land affords, and he must not forget it next spring when his wite wants him to help her a little with the fowls. Blanket the Horse. A light blanket in the stable is better than a heavy one, but a heavy one should be used when tho horse is outside. It is the exposure to winds, when at rest, that cau&as the horse to take cold. It should be remembered that {horses differ. Some are more subject to lung complaints than others and will not endure exposure ; while some horses will seldom show any signs of being affected by any kind of exposure. Tluks. Sheep sometimes get very full of ticks during the winter, and there seems to be very poor means of eradicating them at this time of the year owing to the severe weather which renders it impossible to dip the animals in aja effective manner. It does not always follow that the sheep have not been well taken care of when there are ticks present on them. One remedy has been recommended by practical ehepliercls, for the eradication or ticks iu the winter, as follows; Mis Persian y.S J t parts. One half pound of each will kill the ticks in one hundred sheep. To make the application requires two' 1 men. The •Wool is parted from the back in two or three places well down on each side—the fore shoulder, the hock and the back of the neck. The powder can be sprinkled in the opening by a large pepper-box or by hand". In each cane it should be well rubbed down to the hide of the sheep. It is said. that if the work is properly done it will prove the death of the ticks. If the sheep are very bally infested tbpy will not thrive, ,and the experiment is worthy of a trial; to say the least. Hereditary UnsonmlnedS. To correctly measure the force of this factor in the practice of horse-breeding it would, be necessary to closely separate tho»e few features of equine life that are directly due to inheritance, from the many that owe their repetition to the conditions of after-development. As pur observation becomes keener and wider through long-continued use, the readier we realize the scarcity of the direct inheritances. It forci H itself upon our minds as a breeding principle that it is the tendency to develop along certain lines that so tenaciously passes down the generations. These tendencies,under peculiar conditions that may attach themselves to the after-development of the animal, may spring into active life and become striking qualities; or if the required conditions are not present the tendencies may be dormant. To make this clearer, let me say thut I have never seen a colt dropped with a developed spavin, though I have heard of such; but I know of many that- have inherited the tendency to become spavined in a narrow hook that only required a slight slip or sprain to cause the spavin to begin its growth. A recognition of the relative value of heredity and after-development or training has another application of more importance to our horse-broeding interests. The breeders of cattle within the present century have passed through an experience that should aorve as a beacon light to the breeders of trotting horses. Many in the ranks of the cattle-breeders had an exalted view of the potency of pedigree, and became more or less attached to the practice of "paper breeding," If the pedigree was right, said they, the animal must be right, no matter as to its after treatment. This theory, carried into practice, forced a recognition of the fact that the conditions of development and management oftentimes smothered features that should have been inherited, and members of some' families noted for high qualities became more or less living libels on the prowess of their ancestors. It is clear to me that all the hereditary force that has been accumulating in a cow or horse for ooons of time may bo dissipated to the four winds by a single year of bad management, and it is equally certain that good management and favorable conditions in a brief period may originate many valuable qualities independent of heredity. If 1 have not wrongly noted the direction of the straws that show tho trend of the wind, many of the breeders of trotting horses are fast drifting on towards the shoals that nearly wrecked niofny a craft launched by the breeders of cattle. As the jalue of pedigree grows through performance, the tendency of many breeders is to exalt the former and to slight the latter. I wish to emphasize, liowever, that a developed trotter that has shown that ho is strongly trotting-bred in his own performance and that of his get is worth many shekels more than he of the purple robe that has never betn developed and depends for patronage on the bone and sineffs of his far-away ancestors. While tho force of heredity may be weaker than many breeders are willing to admit, yet it has a close and direct relation to the profits of the horse breeder. To it, in the majority of instances, we may charge the multitude of defects and diseases that attach themselves to the equine body. It is well to remember that inheritance for good or evil has its source of strength in repetition. If tlie growing prevalence of hereditary diseases is to be checked a refusal to patronize any horse or to use any mare so afflicted is demanded of all. More important still, do not breed from animals that have the conformation that gives rise to these diseases. Type is undoubtedly one of the most hereditary fixtures of animal life. The narrow knee, the straight pastern, the hock with weak foundation and little breadth, is more to be shunned than the diseases given birth to by them. A horse may be spavined and yet be fit for breeding purposes, provided the hock is constructed on right principles, Oh a properly built hock such a disease could only originate through a severe accident. My best advice is, shun the horses with small knees, for splints arise there- from; avoid those with straight, short pasterns, for the triple diseases, sidebone, ringbone ane. navicu<lar diseases originate with them; nnd, abo.ye.all things, pass by the spongy and gross or extremely narrow and crooked hocks, for such rarely fail to give birth to curbs, bogs and bone- spavins. • . Though it is necessary to, breed _ carefully to weaken the evil tendencies of heredity, it is fully as important' te seek by our breeding methods and practices ! to strenthen it in-those features which are gocd. To do that we must be more, speci-.. Ho in our subjects. In this c.opnectipn, ut .' is a pleasure for me to note the'recent formation of a saddle-horse studbobk, and a pacing horse register. Throu'gh these agencies, along with our trotting register, . the efforts of our light-horse breeders will be directed with more effect along specific lines. In a shorb while America will lead all other countries in t)ie excellences of her saddle-horses, as she does no.w in trot-.. ting and pacing horses. Through these vital forces breeders will more readily recognize the potency of the thoroughbred : in the pedigrees of saddle-horses, and its impotency in the lineage of a ironing i horse. To further strengthen heredity_in its good tendencies we must realize the influence of development and training' on ' animal life, In horses this applies as much to the draft horse as it does to j.he trotter. A draft stallion descended from idle ancestors that never had hig muscles hardened or his bones tempered, or an undeveloped trotting stallion, is not as strong in prenptency_ as one that has not only had work bre4 in his bone and muscle, but proves himself worthy of his kindred by doing well his own share.-— JOHN A. CIUIQ, in Canadian Live Stock Journal. DKIVES AND I/ITXCHES. Newspaper Alen Eujoy Themselves in Ban Frauvieoo. SAN FBA.NCISOO, Jan. 14.—Delegates to the international league of preas clubs were driven through Golden Gate park to the Cliff house today, after vthichi they were entertained at lunch by Mrs. Sutro, After lunch they were driven through {*rei eidio to the press club rooms, where the meeting wtw held. A public reception, given this evening.

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