The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on January 27, 1892 · Page 3
Get access to this page with a Free Trial

The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, January 27, 1892
Page 3
Start Free Trial

THE WPEB DBS MOINES, ALGQNA. IOWA. WEtjNKSDAY, JANtJARY 27,, 1892. ivrs VICTORY, SKRTHA it. CLAY. m he nsked, abruptly,— hat nre yon going to do .for her, Sir Os- lave provided for her,' 1 tie rop'.iedi iitrrell Court, tlien, anil all its rich reve- go to your wil'e, 1 presume?'' . to niy wife," said Sir Oswald, nconditionaliy?" nsked the general. " ost certainly," was the impatient reply, ellj my friend," said the general, "in 'work! every one does as hepr she likes; itp disinherit that girl, with the face and ItOf n- true ,Dam;l', and to. put affair,, able blonde stranger in lier place, was, ,ythc least, eccentric—the world will it, so,-at any rate. If I were forty years' iiiger I would'win Paulino DarreU* and ke her love me. JJnt.wemust join the ies—they will think'ry remiss." ' Sweet smiles, no mind, an amiable man•, no intellect, prettincss after the fashion a Parisian doll, to M preferred to that truthful, queenly girl?;: Verily tastes iieiy' thought tho general, asiho' watched ie two, contrasted them, aiid fost'himself in onder over his friend's i'olly. fie took his leave soon afterward, gravely lUslng on what he could not understand— nS old friend had done what seemed to ,.rash, ill-judged deed. " it't Sir Oswald in n shto of groat dis- Of course he loved his wife—loved ill a blind infatuation that did more _ his heart than his head—but he had relied so implicitly on the general's lent. He found himself half wishing this, the crowning action of his life, consulted his old friend, ever knew how that clover woman of Tld,-Lady Hampton, had secretly in- ied him. He believed that he had acted ily on his own clear judgment; and 'or the Ih'st time, lie doubted that. 7 ou look anxious, Oswald," said Lady ill, ns she bent'i'own anil with her fresh, younir lips, toue'ied his brow, "lias ling troubled you?'' 'o, my darling." In 1 , replied; "I do not nlto'well, though. 1 have had a dull, us heaviness u..out.'me all day—a igc sensation of pain too. I shall be bet- i-inorrow." nut," h-he said, sweetly, "1 sliall insist our' seeing Doctor llolmstone. 1 am uneasy about you." on are very Uin.l to me," ho responded •fully. . . .lit all her uncnshii's-t did not prevent her ' Ing tho white Lvo ronml her graceful iildcrs, and taking up tin; third volume of In which she was deeply interested, [tie Sir Oswald, looking older and grayer he had looked Insure, went into tho •flen for a stroll. L'he sunbeams were so loth to go; they jerod even now on tho tips of the trees id the flowers; they lingered on the lake '(I in thu rippling sprn.v of the fountains, ijjr Oswald sat down by ;.lie lake-side. Had ho done wrong'.' Was it a loolish mis- ke—one that, lie could not undo? Was 'anlinc indeed the grand, noble, queenly his friimd-thoiuht her'. 1 Would she have [made a mistress suitable for Darrell Court, ir had he done right to bring this fair, blonde ranger, into his home—this dearly-loved •oung wife? What would she do with Dar- Sell Court if lie left it to her? The great wisli his heart for a son to succeed him had not 'anted to him; but he had made his [will, and in it he had left Darrell Court to Is wife. looked at the home he had loved so Ah, cruel death ! [f he could but have ptken it with him, or havn watched over it jlrom another world! But when death came lie must leave it,, and a dull, uneasy fore- ioding came over him as to what he should in favor of this idolized home, s ho looked at it. tears rose to ills eyes; I tlien he saw Pauline standing a little \ from him, the proud, beautiful face ijtone.d Into temU'rm-ss, tho dark eyes full ^kindness. She! went up to him more all'ec- aiately than she had over done in his life; Unelt on the grass by his side. Jnele," slie saiil, (]idctly, "you look very 2,1; ate you in trouble'.'" o held out his hands to her; at the sound 'of liei voice all his heart seemed to go out to [tijk glorious daughter of his race. ""'"Pauline," he said, in a low, broken voice, am thinking about you—I am wondering tout you. Have 1 done—1 wonder, have I lie wrong?" A clear light flashed into her noble face. "Do you refer to Darrell Court?" she ask"If you do, you have done wrong. I you might have trusted,me. I have ian\ faults, but I am a true Darrelli I onid have done fiill justice to the trust" ®"I never thought so," he returned, feebly; land I did it all for the best, as I imagined, |>'l know you did—I am sure you did," she oed eagerly; "I never thought otherwise. |,flas not yon, nude, i understand all that ns brought to b;.'iir upon yon. You are a (liicll, honorable, loyal, true; you do not lundeistnnd anything that iji not slraightl'or- i'waid I do, beeans.' my life has becii so different from yours." 1 Ho was looking at her with a strange, {wavering expression in his face; the girl's ejo--, full of sympathy, were turned on him. ( "I 1 inline," he said, feebly, "if I have done I/wrong—and, oh, 1 am so loth to believe it— »you will forgive me, my dear, will you not?" ' For the lirst time bo held out his arms to j hei; for the lirst time she went close to him •land kissed his face. It was well that Lady [Hampton was not there to sco, Pauline |!heard him murmur something about "a true f DanvJl—the lust of thu Da'Tolls," and when 6ho raised her head she found that Sir Os- yulii bad fallen into a deep, deadly swoon. XXVII. OF TUB WILI,. Assistance was soon procured, and Sir Oswald was carried to his room; Dr. Helmstone was sent for, and when ho arrived the whole house was in confusion. Lady Darrell wrung her hands in the most uraceliil distress. "Now, Elinor," said Lady Hampton, "pray do not give wiiy r:i anything of that kind. It is a fortunate thing for you that I am here. Let me beg of you lo remember that, whatever happens, you are magnificently provided for. Sir Oswald told mo as much. There is really no need to excite yourself in that fashion." While Lady Darrell, with a few graceful exclamations and a very pretty show of sorrow, niiinuged to attract all possible sympa- 'thy, Pauline moved about with a still, cold '«ce, which those bi'sl understood 'who knew lief nature. Itsuomud incredible to the girl 'that anything uncxpvetcd should happen to her uncle. She had only just begun to love him; that evening had brought those two proud hearts closer together than they had evor boon: tho icy was broken; each had a glimmering perception of the real character of the other—:> perception that in time would have developed into |» rl'eet love. It seemed too hard that ul'lor In- had just begun t > like her— that as i-oon ns :i I'rosh and genuine sentiment was springing up between them—he iim-'tuii 1 . For it had corny to that. Care, skill, talent, -tching, wire all in MI in; he must die. him.-arid'! with professional keenness had seen at once that his case was hopeless. The ailtricnt was a sudden and dangerous one- violent Inflammation of the Jungs. No one could account for the sudden seizure: Sir Oswald had complained of pain during the day, but no one thought that it was anything, of a serious nature. His manner, certainly; had been strange, with a earl pathos .quite unlike himself; but no one saw in that the commencement of a mortal illness. Lady Hamjiton frequently observed 1 how fortun'ato it Was that she was there. : To all inquiries as to the health of her niece, she replied. "Poor, dear Lady Darrell is bearing up-wondi'i-fully; " and with the help of pathetic little speeches, the frequent use of a vinaigrette, a few tears, and some amiable self-condolence, that lady did bear up. Strange to say, the one who felt the keenest sorrow,the deepest regret, the truest pain, .Was the niece with whom Sir Oswald had 'continually found faidt, and whom he had disinherited. She went about with a sorrow on her face more eloquent than words. Lady Hampton said it Was all assumed; but Lady Darrell said, more gently, that Pauline was not a girl to assume n grief she did not feel. So the baronet died after a week of severe illness, during which ho never regained the power of speech, nor could lie make himself intelligible. The most distressing tiling was that there was evidently something which he wished to say—something which he desired to make them understand. When Pauline was in the room his eyes followed her with a wistful glance, pitiful, sad, distressing; he evidently wished to say something, but had not the power. With Unit wisli unexpressed lie died, and they never knew what it was. Only Paulino thought that ho meant, even at the last, to ask her forgiveness and to do her justice. Darrell Court was thrown into deepest mourning; the servants went'about with hushed footsteps and sorrowful faces. Ho had been kind to them, this stately old master; and who knew what might happen under the new readme? Lady Hampton was, she assured every one, quite overwhelmed with business. She had to make all arrangements for the funeral, to order all the mourning, while Lady Darrell was supposed to be overwhelmed with sorrow in the retirement of her own room. One line spring morning, while the. pretty bluebells were swaying in the wind, and the hawthorn was shining pink and white on the hedges, while the birds sang and the sun shone, Sir Oswald Darrell was buried, and the secret of what he had wished lo say or have done was buried with him. At Lady Darrell's suggestion, Captain Langton was sent for lo attend the funeral. It was a grand and stately procession. All the eft/cot' the county were there, all the tenantry from Audleigh Koyal, all the friends who had known Sir Oswald and respected him. "Was lie the last of Darrell?" one asked •of another; and many looked at the stalely, dark-eyed girl who bore the name, wondering how he had left his property, whether his niece would succeed him, or his wife take all. They talked of this in subdued whispers as the funeral cortcrje Wound its way to the church, they talked of it after the coffin had been lowered into the vault, and they talked of it as the procession made its way back to Darrell Court. As Lady Hampton said, it was a positive relief to open the windows and let the blessed sunshine in, to draw up the heavy blinds, to do away with the dark, mourning aspect of the place. Everything had been done according to rule—no peer of the realm could have had a more magnificent funeral, l.ady Hampton felt that in every respect full honor had been done botli to the living and the dead. "Now," she wisely remarked, "there is nothing to be (lone, save to bear up as well as it is possible." Then, after a solemn and dreary dinner, the friends and invited guests .went away, and the most embarrassing ceremony of all had to be gone through—the reading of the will. Mr. Bamsden, the family solicitor, was in attendance. Captain Langton, Lady Darrell, Lady Hampton, and Miss Darrell took their seats. Once or twice Lady Hampton looked with a smile of malicious satisfaction at the proud, calm face of Pauline. There was nothing there to gratify her—no queen could have assisted at her own dethronement with prouder majesty or prouder erace. Some of the old retainers, servants who had been in the family from their earliest youth, said there was not one who did not wish in his heart that Pauline might have Darrell Court. Lady D.irrell, clad in deepest mourning, was placed in a largo easy-chair in the center of the group, her aunt by her side. She looked extremely delicate and lovely in her black sweeping robes. Pauline, who evidently thought the ceremony an empty ono, as far us she was concerned, stood near the table. She declined tho chair that Captain Langton placed for her. Her uncle was dead'; siie regretted him with true, unfeigned, sincere sorrow; but the reading of his will had certainly nothing to do with IUT. There was not the least shadow on her face, not the least discomposure in her manner. To look at her one would never have thought she was there to hear the sentence of disinheritance. Lady Darrell did not look quite so tranquil; everything was at stake for her. She held her dainty handkerchief to her face lest tho trembling of hcrlips should bo seen. Mr. Kiunsdeii read the will, and its contents did not take any one much by surprise. The most Important item wae a legacy of ten thousand pounds to C.tplain Aubrey Langton, To Paulino Darrell was left an annuity of five hundred pounds per annum, with the strict injunction that she should live at Darrell Court until her marriage; if she never married, she was to reside there until her death. To all iiis faithful servants' Sir Oswald left legacies. To his well-beloved wife, Elinor, ho bequeathed all else—Darrell Court, with its rich dependencies and royal revenues, his estate in Scotland, his house in town, together with tho valuable furniture, plate, jewelry, pictures, all the moneys that had accumulated during his lifetime—all to her, to hold at her will and pleasure; there was no restriction, no condition to mar tho legacy. To the foregoing Sir Oswald had added a codicil; lie left Miss Hastings one hundred pounds per annum, and begged of her to remain' at Darrell Court as companion to Lady Darrell and his niece. Then the lawyer folded up the parchment, and the ceremony was ended. "A very proper will," said Lady Hampton; "it really does poor dear Sir Oswald credit." They hastened to congratulate- Lady Darrell; but Captain Langton, it was noticed, forgot to do so—he was watching Pauline's calm, unconcerned Departure from the room. keeping that proud girl here. her go. i Will come and live With yon. I shall make ft better chaperon than that poor, faded Miss Hastings." But Lady Darrell was eager to taste the sweets of power, and she knew how completely her aunt would take every vestige of it from her. .. She declared her Intention to adhere most Strictly to the terms of the will. '"And, aunt,"' she continued, witli firmnesd quite new to her, "it would be so much better, I t'hink, for you to keep at the Elms. People might make strange remarks if you came here to live with me 1 ." ''•"'• Lady Hampton Was slireWd enough to see that she must abide by her niece's decision. The Captain was to remain only two days at Darrell Court, and Lady Darrell was anxious to spend some little time with him. "I like the Captain,, aunt," she said; "he nmuses me." .' Lady Hampton remembered how she had spoken of him before, and it was not her intention that her beautiful niece should fling away herself and her magnificent fortune on Aubrey Langton. "She is sure to 'marry again," thought the lady; "and, dowered as she Is, she ought to marry a duke, at least." She represented to her that it was hardly etiquette for her, a widow so young, and her loss behig so recent, to entertain a handsome young oflicer. "I do not see that the fact of his being handsome makes any difference, aunt," said Lady Darrell; "still, if you think I .must remain shut up in my room while the captain Is here, of course, 1 will remain so, though It seems.very hard." "Appearances are everything," observed Lady Hampton, sagely; "and you cannot be too careful at lirst" "Does be seem to pay Pauline any attention?" asked the young widow, eagerly. "I have never heard them exchange more than a few words—indeed the circumstance has puzzled me, Elinor. I have seen him look at her as though he worshiped her and as though he hated her. As for Miss Darrell, slio seems to treat him with contemptuous indifference." "1 used to think he liked her," said Lady Darrell, musingly. "He liked the future heiress of Darrell Court," rejoined Lady Hampton. "All his love has gone with her prospects, you may rely upon it." Lady Darrell, brought up in a school that would sacrifice even life itself for tlie sake of appearances, knew there was no help for her enforced retirement. She remained in her rooms until the young officer had left the Court. Lady Hampton was not tlie only one who felt puzzled at Pauline's behavior to the captain, Miss Hastings, who understood her pupil perhaps better than any one, was puzzled. There was somewhat of a calm, unutterable contempt in her manner of treating him. He could not provoke her; no matter what he said, she would not be provoked into retort. She never appeared to remember his existence; no one could have been more completely Ignored; and Captain Langton himself was but too cognizant of the fact. If he could have but piqued or aroused her, have stung her into some exhibition of feeling, he would have been content; but no statue could have been colder, no queen prouder. If any little attention was required at her hands she paid it, but there was no denying the fact that it was rendered in.such a manner that the omission would have been preferable. On the evening of his departure Lady Hampton went down to wisli him farewell; she conveyed to him Lady Darrell's regret at not being able to do the same. "I am vei-y sorry," said the captain; "though, of course, under tlie circumstances, I could hardly hope for the pleasure of see- Ing Lady Darrell. Perhaps you will tell her that in the autumn, with her permission, I shall hope to revisit the Court." Lady Hampton said to herself that she should take no such message. The dearest wish of her heart was that tlie gallant captain should never be seen there again. But she made some gracious reply, and then asked, suddenly: "Have you seen Miss Darrell? Have you said good-by to her?" Aubrey Langlon looked slightly confused. "I have not seen her to-day," he replied. Lady Hampton smiled very graciously. "1 will send for her," she said: and when, In answer to her summons, a servant entered, she asked that Miss Darrell might be requested to favor her with her presence In the library, it did not escape her keen observation that Captain Latigton would rather have avoided tho interview. ' Pauline entered with the haughty grace with aft its rich dependencies, would have boen his. ' The thought almost maddened him. How lie loathed her as he rode away I But for tier all this grand inheritance would have been his. Instead of riding away, he would now be taking possession sihd be lord and inaster'of all. These stables with Hie. splendid stud of horses would be his—his the magnificent grounds and gardens- Hie thousand' luxuries that made Dam-ll Court an earthly paradise. All these would have bet>n his but. for the obstinacy of one girl. Curses deep and burning rose to his lips; yet, for Ills punishment, he loved her with a love that mastered him in.spite of his hate—I hat made him long to throw'himself nt her feet, while ho could have slain her for tin; wrong he considered that she had done him. Lady Hamplon could not, refrain'from a few remarks on what she had witnessed. "Has Captain Langton been so unfortunate as to offend you, Mi*s DaiTcll'.'" she asked of Pauline. "I thought >onr adieus were of tin 1 coldest." • "Did you?" I never could sec the use of expressing regret that is not really-felt" "Perhaps not; 'but it is strange that you should not feel some little regret at losing such a visitor. To this remark Pauline deigned, nothing save an extra look of weariness, which was not lost upon Lady Hampton. ***** * • "Pauline," said Miss Hastings, one morning, "I do not think yon are compelled by the terms of Sir Oswald's will to reside at Dan-ell Court whether you like it or not There could be no possible objection to your going away for a change." The beautiful, restless face was turned to her. "1 could not leave Darrell Court even If 1 would," she returned. "Why not? There is really nothing to detain you here." "lam waiting," said the girl, her dark eyes lit by a lire that was not pleasant to see —"I am walling here I'or-my revenue." (To be continued'.) FARM AND HOME. MY PSALM. I mourn no more my vanished years; Beneath a tender rntn, An April rain of smiles and tears, My heurt Is young agntn. The west winds blow, andj singing low, I hear the glad streams run; The windows of my soul I throw Wide open to the sun. No longer foiwardor behind 1 look In hope or fear: Hut, grateful, take the good I find, ,Tho best of now and liere. .1 plow no more a desert land, To harvest weed and tare; The manna dropping from Oocl's hand. Rebnkes ray painful care. I break n-.y pilgrim staff—I lay Aside the toil!ne oar; The angel sought so far away I welcome door. The airs of spring may rover play Among tho rl|ipilngcorn, Nor freshness of tho lowers of May AG1KL WONDER. Edna liei'toldl Ueyoud Doubt the Worlds Greatest Equilibrist. A reporter had the good fortune the other day to hold a conversation with Miss Edna Bertoldi, who is beyond doubt the greatest equilibrist the world has ever known. What she had to say was said with a grace that was positvely charming, because of the unaffected manner which is quite natural to tbe young lady, who is just 16years of age. She does inurnber- able feats of equilibrium ai.d contortion and climaxes her wonderful performance by grasping with her teeth an object, made specially for the purpose, and throws herself, feet uppermost, into the air, maintaining this position without touching the floor with her hands—in fact, supporting herself entirely by the strength of her jaws and neck. Many performers have supported themselves by the jaws feet, downward, but Miss Bertoldi reverses the position. "The wonderful command which I possess in-the matter of equilibrium," she said, "I attribute chiefly to my excellent muscular development. I am particularly strong musclud and have excellent control over every ponionofniy body. I do not weigh too much or too little. Dr. Agnew told me in Phildle- phia quite recently that he considered me physically perfect. Yen, my act as 1 perform it at present is the result of long study and continued daily practice. Tbe <vork I do each performance is quite sufficient to keep me in proper physical condition for my act, but were I to retire from the stage for any length of time [ should still devote a certain time each day to the practice of iny profession.—Ex." Yet shall the blue-eyed gentian look Through fringed lids to heaven. And the pale aster In the brook •. Shall see its Imago given I The woods shall wear their robes of pralso, Tho south winds softly sigh. And sweet, calm days in golden haze Meltdown the amber sky. Not less shall madly deed and word Rebuke an age of wrong: The graven flowers that wreattie the sword, Make not the blade less strong. But smiling hands shall learn to heal, To build as to destroy; Nor lees my heart for others fool That I the more enjoy. All as God wills, who wisely hoods To give or to withhold. And knowethmore of all my needs Thamll my prayers havo told! Enough that blessings undeserved llavo marked my erring track; That whereeoe'er my feet have swerved, Ills chastening turned me back. That more and more a Providence Of love Is understood, Making the springs of time and cense Sweet with eternal good. That death seems but a covered way Which opens Inio 11 rht. Wherein no blinded child can stray Beyond the Father's sight. That all tho jarring notes of llto Seem blending In a psalm, And all the angels of its strife Slow rounding into calm. And so the shadows fall apart, And so the wost winds play, . And all tho windows of my heart I open to the day. friability, & condition requisite for best growth of plants. When it is absent the soil ^ttles in a compact mas«, through air cannot circulate. It is fare lor soil of new land to become so compacted unless trodden upon much when wet. Tbe hutnui which nature supl-'ej by decay of vegetation, together with its office as a mulch, keeps new soil triable. Ihe soil is exhausted of its humus by too much cropping without returning an equivalent.' There are but two ways to restore this exhausted humus; one by carting on barn- ya-d manure, the other bj manuring with green crops. The former can be done only to a limited extent, because eo little can be made; but there is scarcely a limit to the extent to which green manuring might be carried, particularly in warmtr climates. Much of born manure is scarce, a large portion of it is liable to be diy, unless well made.. Turn under in spring for a crop of corn for instance and if the weather be dry there will not be enough moisture to set the machinery of nature's laboratory at work to put it in condition for assimilation by growing plants; hence a Eood part of it is likely to lie inert in £he earth. When the field is plowed again this is turned up, uud is exposed Jong, much of the substance of it is dissipated in the atmosphere; but in fertilizing by plowing down green crops, full as they are of moisture, decomposition begins at once, especially in hot weather, to prepare them for plant-food.—Galen Wilson, in N. Y. Tribune. FARM NOTJ5S. If fine-cut bones are baited and then fed to the fowla, the nutritive value of tho food is greatly increased. Small carcasses sell better than those that nre extra large. The best prices are given for quality rather than for size. Clean the ice from the horses' feet when they come in at night, and not oblige them to warm it out with the heat of their bodies. The tiny seeds, such as millet, rape, mustard and the finer particles of cracked corn, will, if scattered among leaves and chaff give yarded fowls just the exercise needed. Bee Kscapes. When making up your order lor next season's supplies do not forget to order a few bee escapes. It does not make much difference which kind you order, as moat any kind will do the work perfectly. They nre a great labor-saving invention and you will not need more than one to every five hives, when working for comb honey, but if extracting, there should be one to each hive. The manner in which they are worked is about as follows: When you have honey capped and re^dy to be taken eff, you place under it on empty super and above this a board containing the escape, then replace the super or body, whichever it may be, containing the honey, and by the next morning the bees will all be below and you can remove the honey and carry it where you wish without disturbing the bees in the least. It takes but a short time to put on the escape, and in so doing the bees need be disturbed but slightly. The advantages of the escape are obvious to all. There will be no uncapping of tbe honey, and the sections or frames will not to be removed one by one in order to brush off the be_es. _By so doing we are apt to cause robbing in the yard, especially if honey is not to be gathered. If you are not certain which kind you wish, leave it to vour supply dealer, and you will most probably get one that will suit you. As moat all the escapes on the masket work satisfactorily^ the only objection thao can be urged against some o_f them is, they have not sufficient ventilation. But this is a matter that the escapes sold for this season will probably remedy. THE HOUSEHOLD. This Life. Murry's Magazine. Household Martyrs. Some one onae asked a little girl whether her motner's hair was gray. "I don'c know," was the innocent reply, "I can't see the top of her head and she doesn't ever sit down." Solomon says of the good housekeeper: "She looketh well to the ways of her household." The woman who is always overrun with work, ntver seeing a chance to rest for a single minute, who is always bustling about, anxious, burdened, her •whole aim being, to all outward appearance, to "get her work done," busy, busy, busy, catching the broom to whisk away an infinitesimal spot.'of dirt here, flourish- CHAPTER XXVIII. WAITING FOB BEVENQK. There was a slight, only a very slight dlt- ference of opinion between Lady Parroll and her aunt alter the reading of the will. Lady Hampton would fain have pi von up the Elms, and have •gone to live at Darrell Court <'Bir Oswald's will Is a very just one," she said, "admirable in every reaped; but I should «•••• ,-u.f .,.,„! Doctors i liu l coiwulteit >»i>out! jjeYgr 4ream, were. Jin your place, Minor, of glanced at the captain; he was no more to her than the very furniture in tlie room. "You wished to see me, Lady Hampton," she said, curtly. "\cs-that is, Captain Langton wishes to say good-by to you; he is leaving Darrell Court this morning." There, was the least possible curl of the short upper lip. Lady Hampton happened to catch tho glance bestowed upon Pauline by their visitor. For a moment it startled her—it revealed at once such hopeless passionate love and such strong passionate hate. Paulino rmule no reply; tho queenly young figure was drawn up to its full height, the thoughtful face was full of scorn. Tho captain concealed his embarrassment as he besl could, and went up to her with outstretched hands, •"Good-by, Miss Darrell," ho said; "this has been a very sad time for yon, and 1 deeply sympathize with you, 1 hope to see you ngajn in Hie autumn, looking better—more like yourself." Lady Hampton was wont to declare that the scene was one of tho tinest she had ever witnessed. Pauline, looked at him with that straight, clear, calm gazo of hers, so terribly searching and direct. "Good-by," she said, gravely, and then, utterly ignoring the outstretched hands, she swept haughtily from tint room. Lady Hampton did not attempt to conceal her delight at the captain's discomfiture. "Miss Dnrroll Is very proud," hesaidjangh- ing to hide his confusion. "I must have been unfortunate enough to displease her." But Lady Hampton saw his confusion, and in her own mind she wondered what there was between these two—why he should appear at tho same time to love and to hate her —above all, why she should treat him with such sovereign indifference and contempt. "It is not natural," slio argued to herself; "young girls, as a rule, admire—nay, take an uncommon interest In soldiers. What reason can she have for such contemptuous indifference?" How little she dreamed of the storm of rage—of passion—of anger—of love—of fury, that warred in tlie captain's soull He was ten thousand pounds richer, but it WHS as a drop in the ocean to him. If it had been ten thousand per annum he might have, been grateful. Ton thousand pounds would discharge evyry debt be had in tlie world, and set him straight once more; he might even lead the life he had always mount to lead for two or three years, but then tho money would be gone. On the other hand, if that girl—that proud, willful, defiant girl— I would but have married, him. Darrell Court With good caie, and where sheep are kept in small flocks, 95 par cent, of all lambs dropped should be raised. If this is not done the chances are that something is wrong with the shepherd. Generally speaking, 100 ewes are enough to keep in a single Bock. . Of course, this does not apply to such methods as must pertain to the ranch, 'bat is addressed to the farmer, or stock farmer. Stretches lu Slieep. A correspondent of the Maine Farmer cures stretches in sheep by giving two tablespoonfuls of epsom salts dissolved in a half pint of warm water. Repeat the dose in two hours if the first does not effect a cure. It will be necessary to turn it into the sheep's mouth with a funnel, or glass bottle with a long neck, having first made an air hole in the bottom of the bottle. all the feather beds in the house to see whether some stray moth has stolen a march on her and sought rest beneath the downy contents, scalding up all the preserves in the cellar once a week for fear they might begin to work when she didn't know it, running up stairs and down, out to the barn and into the attic, tiring herself and everyone else in the house—we have all seen just such women, and probably not one of us believes such a one to be the woman to whom Solomon in his wisdom referred as looking well to the ways of her household. Thwe are better and nobler methods of doing this than cooking, washing, cleaning and scrubbing. A woman's work is not finished, her duty not entirely performed for her family, when she has made and mended their clothes, cooked their food and mopped the kitchen floor. If she looks well to tlie ways of her household, she will see to it lhat her husband has her companionship aa well as a starched shirt front; that her children have food for their minds as well as good dinners; that her own face wears the smile of love and contentment, instead of tbe vexed frown and wrinkles of daily woJry over the absorbing questions, What shall we eat and wear? No woman who is a drudge in he kitchen can do justice to her family. The husband of such a wife eats his meals as quickly as possible, and goes where he can n'nd somebody to talk to him, and with whom he can talk about something beside bread and potatoes, and wood and water, —Hattie F. Bell, in the Golden Rule. "You needn't talk to ine about heredity," said Mrs. Gazzam to her husband, who had been endeavoring to elucidate the subject. '"1 know there's nothing in it." "Oh, you do?" "Yes, I do. Now look at the Snooper children, for instance. Four boys imd two girls, all grown up long ago, and every one a bachelor or ana old maid, Don t tell me they got that from thei parents."—New York Sun. The new Maxim flying machine will be propelled by a light screw making 2500 revolutions per minute, Jts suspending power will be a kite HO feet long, by 40 feet wide. The motive power will be a petroleum condensing engine, Calves. I. W. Newton, in the Rural New Yorker, thinks the .time when a calf is dropped has morn to dp with its making a good cow than the feed, although he likes skim milk with flaxseed nnd oats, for making dairy heifers. He would have them dropped in September and October and let them eat ail the hay they want the first winter, with tbe other feeds mentioned, in suitable quantity. White Oats. We hive seen a recent statement to the tffect that white oatt, contain more nutriment than black oats, and should always be chosen for feeding horses. The only difference lies in the fact that the black oats have a lit.tle thicker husk, sufficient to make a difference of perbaps.five per cent, in the feeding value. A horse cannot be well fed for less than 80 cents per day. This makes a, pretty heavy drain on the farmer who carries three or four idle head through tho winter. If these were brood mares, all raising good colts to pay their way, it would not be so bad. One way in whieh good stock of all kinds is of the most decided value is that it increases the owner's interest in it. A man will look after good stock more carefully lhan after a lot of scrubs every time. Watering Horses. lathe Winter of 1888-1889 Director Sanborn, of the Utah Station, conducted a trial to test the problem whether horses should be watered before or after receving their food. Pour horses were fe4 iu two lots each for forty-seven days, one lot being watered before feeding grain and the other after feeding grain. The practice with the two lota was then reversed for a period of forty-three days. As a result of the whole for a total period of ninety days those fed before watering gained forty-four pounds, and those watered before feeding gained sixty-four pounds. This was wholly a winter trial. A second trial was begun in Februray. 1891, and closing Aug. 10, covering a period of nearly six months and passing well into the hot season, when horses drink most, made it more determinate than the other. The horses were weighed weekly and and the food daily, .and poth were duly recorded. Lot 4 was watered before feeding for the first period of the experiment. Husbandry of Humng. Soil is productive'largely in proportion to the humus it cont&ip, H^nnjis gjyes I would not lose the joy of having dwelt Upon this earth; the wondrous gift of mind; The power of thinking, sharing with mankind Its hopes and fears, which have been freely dealt To all. To know, to suffer, to have felt, To love, Is life; whnte'er may He behind, We struggle onward, worn and faint and blind. But should the darkness Into sunrise melt, And earth's dear Inaufllclenoy recoil Into the broader, deeper hope which gleamed, 'Shall we not triumph that throughout the toil And warfare of our present life, we deemed That evil was but passing, fulth and toll To knowledge, so transcending all we dreamed? The man who lives only for himself, is engaged in very small business. Don't talk much about yourself when you want to be interesting. For a steady thing the light of a tallow candie is better than that of a skyrocket. How mankind defers from day to day the best it can do and the most beautiful things it can enjoy without thinking that every day may be the last one and that lost time is lost eternity.—Max Muller. Taluiage's New Tear Maxims. Make it the best year of all your life— the brightest, the happiest and the best, writes Dr. Talmage. Imbue your heart with the freshness of the morning, your soul with the sparkle of the dawn. Resolve by good deeds and thoughts to make this the most triumphant year of your life. As a series of short maxims to carry with you through the year, let me give you these: Make every day begin and end with God. Be content wiih what you have. Have a hearty, joyful family altar in your domestic circle. Fill your home with as much good reading and bright music as your means will allow. Think ill of none, but well of all. If fortune favors you, think of others. Don't sham, bo real. Keep busy and you will keep healthy. Respect all sacred things. Love God. The Gentlewoman, A gentlewoman never fails in the small, sweet courtesies. Instinctively she respects thu feelings of others, and having the golden rule by heart, it is from her heart that all lovely, love-. compelling graces flow. "In her tongue is the law of kindness," and she has the ready tact which takes advantage of every opportunity to render the li res of others happier, And every morning, with "Good day," Mttk«s each day goqd. Her winning smile and gentle ministrations, her soft voice and unfailing sympathy , insure her always u ready welcome, and, like the sun, she "finds the world bright, because she first makes it so." The fairy tale of our younger days has a peculiar charm and attraction. The courteous, cheerful maiden who draws water for the " withered old crone, an<J who listsua to >: hef, and replies with amiability, is rewarded with the gift of uttering pearls and diamonds; and, in the less romantic German version, Frau Holle, bestows gold pieces as the reward of civility and dilligbnce'with that delightful prodigality so characteristic of fairy land. —Harpers Weekly. Mary A Livermpre i» the first and. woman student at the Qrozer Theotygical seminary, at Upland, ?»„ ««$ lie will take tlje full three yoaru' CQUTS e' |n or4ejr to fit b,ert>eif for work-

What members have found on this page

Get access to

  • The largest online newspaper archive
  • 8,900+ newspapers from the 1700s–2000s
  • Millions of additional pages added every month

Try it free