The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, September 30, 1896, Image 2
CHAPTER XII?Continued.
xnere was a areary lapse 01 euence
during its reign the gleaming, 6cin
tlllant eyes of Beatrice Meroer told tha
their owner was not Idle.
She was thinking, plotting, preparing
to act. Her quick mind grasped th?
Situation readily, the situation 6ho had
Anticipated, and which she had come
prepared to meet. She held the remedy
?gold. To befriend the father of the
man she loved in his dire extremity, to
save an honored family name from reproach?would
it not win the gratitude
of the delinquent son, and gratitude
pity, and pity love?
i She had other final resources In reserve.
6he had prepared plans calmly,
systematically. This was but the first
Step. Oh! she could not fail.
j She arose and stole to the door; she
peered in. There sat the stern-faced,
ilmplacable lawyer, the fatal documents
spread out before him. There, too,
wan-faced, wretched, lost, shrank the
lather of Kaymond Marshall.
j She stepped boldly across the threshold
of the room. Not until she had
{reached the table and her shadow fell
*oross It did lawyer and victim glance
bp, with a vivid start.
I, "Madam!?why " began the former.
i "I have come to purchase those documents."
Her hand pointed to the pile of notes
<and securities, almost touching them.
In profound wonderment the lawyer regarded
her. With a gasp of hope, suspense,
dread, Colonel Marshall 6tajnJ
at hsr veiled face. fw*
"You have come " repeated the
lawyer, vaguely.
! "To buy those'documents!"
"Why?I do not understand?by what
right."
uiujr ivx tttic;
Her voice rang out sharply.
, "To Colonel Marshall or his authorized
agent, yes, but to a stranger "
J Beatrice Mercer turned to the be wildered
Colonel.
"I anar no 6tranger, but a friend," she
maMxJffilspered in his dumfounded ear.
->"?k~-'"'*-^r"came to save you," and then aloud:
Colonel Marshall, you authorize me to
|act for you?"
The half-stunned Colonel could only
nod like an automaton.
! "Ten thousand dollars is the amount,
1 believe," went on Beatrice, calmly.
^There is the money. See that it is
Tight."
j She had flashed a heap of bank-notes
-? 1 tnnflnnn tko 1 o .
*vi lai^c ucauiiiiuttuvuo i.viviv iuv ***??Iyer's
sight. She took up the papers on
the table.
, "This is the forged $2,000 note, I believe?"
she said, selecting one from the
many papers, "Colonel Marshall, it
ehall never trouble you again."
With two twists of her dainty tut
Bupple wrists, she severed the fatal document
in twain.
"These other papers I shall keep for
a day or two. The amount is correct?"
ehe demanded of the lawyer. "Colonel
Marshall, you are free from debt and
dread alike. I trust we all know how
to keep a secret. I would like to speak
a few words to you alone."
The lawyer had witnessed some
trange scenes in his professional ca
reer, but the denouement of the present
Inexplicable one left him speechless,
i Colonel Marshall, like one in a dream,
followed the woman who had mysteriously
saved him from ruin and dishonor
from the room.
Then, realizing that he had been
enatched from the brink of a precipice,
he reeled to a table in the outer office
Xor support, and burst into tears.
"Woman, angelic deliverer!" he fairly
oHDed. "Who sent you here? You
have saved to me all I hold dear on
earth. My tears, my prayers shall be
yours till my last breath. I shall teach
my own to reverence you. I 6hall repay
you dollar for dollar. What can I
Bay, what can I do to acknowledge, to
repay this stupendous obligation that
crushes, stuns, mystifies me?"
"One single favor.'
"Name it?oh! name it*
"Ask no questions, feel no obligations.
I only ask that to-morrow evening at
dusk you come to the hotel and to the
apartments of Mi6s Leslie, and bring
your son Raymond with you."
She was gone like a fla6h with the
words. The Colonel stood staring after
her as if she were some wraith. His
closed and ho swavfld lik? ono in
a dream. He hastened after her a minute
later to demand a moro lucid explanation
of her strange intercession in
his behalf, but when he reached the
btreet, like the fairy in the story-books,
.she had disappeared utterly.
Beatrice Mercer had hastened back to
the hotel. Her face was flushed, her
eyes hopeful, exultant, as she laid aside
her wraps.
"So far all is well," she murmured,
confidently. "Now for the most difficult
part of the plot."
When Dr. Simms came, she led him to
a sofa, and for over an hour in low,
earnest tones she conversed with him.
She told him all her plot, all her desires.
She startled him with her boldness
and shrewdness, she dazzled him
with the promise of munificent rewards.
"What a scheme!" he ejaculated,
arising at last, "and all for the love of a
man whose heart is buried in the grave
of that lost, drowned #irl. Beatrice, is
the earne worth the candle?"
"Twill hnvo it so!" she cried, wildly.
"Without 1'aymond Marshall, what is
wealth to me! You will help me?"
"To the last!"
"You can give me the medicine to produce
the effect I desire. You will help
me carry out the imposition?"
"Yes. Wait till I go to my office."
In an hour he returned. Deep and
subtle must have been the plots of the
fair and false siren, for, as ho handed
her a tiny phial, he said:
"You can rely upon it. When Raymond
Marshall comes to see you to
morrow, it will be as you desire. A1
the pity of his heart caunot fail to gc
iout to the woman who has saved hi
family from penury and disgrace, for. t
all seeming, through the agency of tha
potent drug, you will bo a dying woman!
CHAPTER XIII.
A SCtTLE PLOT.
"All Is ready?"
"Everything. My housekeeper, whor
we can tru-^t, will act as nurse and is i
the next room. I will receive the Mar
Bhulls when they arrive and pavo th
way for you."
"Make no mistake!"
it was the afternoon of the day succeed
Jng thut which had witnessed Beat
rice Mercer's strange act of generosity
, Beatrice herself, in propria persona
.. -X....
A
AX^pFFI 3
r\J qJILLL^
' the <3i6gulse 6he cad nithorto" adopted
now abandoned, lay upon a couch In
one corner of her sleeping apartment.
She was no longer disguised, but there
was a change in her from her ordinary
appearance that was most remarkable.
Her face looked thin and wretchedly
white, her eyes heavy. As 6he lay back
on the pillow, her labored breathing and
hectic cheeks seemed to Indicate a hot,
burning fever.
A Virtf hnrnlncr she had. but
produced by artificial means. This
ruthless schemer had paused at nothing
' to accomplish her ends. To further her
I schemes an assumption of mortal illness
had been necessary, and her
worthy coadjutor, Dr. Simms, had not
' prevaricated when no tola her tnat the
I contents of the little phial he had given
her th day previous would bring about
the result she desired.
These two had plotted well In unison,
| and as he entered the outer room of the
6uite he assumed that grave, serious expression
of face that the average physician
wears while attending a patient in
the last extremity.
He opened the door with warning
| noiselessness as there came a tap finall
ly. A servant stood there, two persons
l at his side.
I "Gentleman to see Miss Leslie, sir,"
| he announced, withdrew, and Doctor
i Gimms ushered his two visitors into the
i room and pointed to chairs, his serious
manner evidently surprising them.
Colonel Marshall was the one, his son
Raymond the othor. The former was
all curiosity and excitement As to
Raymond, as he sat gazing vacantly at
the floor, his hollow cheeks, haunted
eyes and dejected bearing generally
told that the present visit had no interest
for him,
"Doctor Simms!" ejaoulated the Colonel.
"Why! I came to see "
"Miss Leslie?"
"Yes."
"Miss Leslie fs a dying woman, Colo
"fcel Marshall.
w nat:
With an Incredulous gasp the Colonel
started to his feet.
"Yes, she has been ill for some time.
; 1 vras summoned yesterday afternoon.
1 found her fevered, almost delirious.
She asked me to receive you,"
"Doctor, you amaze me! This 6traDge
lady "
"Has an iron will even in death. She
has explained everything to me. She
insists upon seeing yourself and your
son, even in her dangerous condition. I
told her that the sho.-k might kill her,
but she insists."
'"Doctor! I am a1, a perfect loss to
understand this lady's remarkable generosity
in my behalf?the mystery surrounding
her "
"Here are the notes she took yesterday.
She bade me destroy them in yous
presence."
""Wait! Don't! I really cannot accept
all these favors from a stranger."
The Colonel spoke too late. The
documents were blazing on the hearth.
He was a free man! A stranger had
liberated him from all the financial entanglements
of the hour.
"Doctor!" he panted, "this mystery is
1 maddening. Who is this lady?"
"You will be surprised when you
1 know. Come; you, too, Mr. Marshall,"
to Kaymond.
He advanced to the door of the sleeping-room
and tapped lightly. The
nurse opened it. Awed, startled, Col.
Marshal stood in the center of the
apartment, gazing dubiously at the figure
lying on the couch, its face turned
from him.
Quite as curious and Interested for the
moment, Kaymond Marshall locked up,
too.
"Miss Leslie has asked ine to explain
to you why she has interested herself in
your behalf," spoke the Doctor, in calm,
measured accents. "Her act has been
one in a measure of atonement, of compensation
for a wrong done a member of
your family."
"Ha!" exclaimed the Colonel with a
start, "she must be, then, some relative
of the wretch who robbed me?who en(inmnoceod
mo In all thia t.rnnhlft. mv
former partner!"
"Not at all. She simply deceived a
member of your family. She is familiar
with the troubles of your son, as well as
yourself, and she desires me to impart
some mouinful information to him.
Mr. Marshall, will you kindly read that
article?"
The Doctor had handed to Raymond
Marshall the newspaper which had first
set Beatrice on the trail or Edna Deane.
It chronicled her death at the snowladen
bridge. So accurately did it describe
Edna and her attire, that, as
Raymond Marshall perused it, with distended
eyes and ashen face, he could
not mistake the truth. With a wild cry
he sank to a chair, the paper fluttering
to the floor.
"Dead! dead!" he wailed. "All hope,
then, is lost!"
"What may all this have to do with
the lady here?" began the astounded and
mystified Colonel Marshall.
"Much. This ordeal is trying, fatal
to her, but she insists. Nurse, turn up
the lamp. Colonel?Mr. Marshall, your
benefactress, the lady who makes an
atonement for a great wrong, is "
"Beatrice Mercer!"
In surprised accents from the Colonel's
lips, in a gasp of incredulity from
those of Raymond Marshall, rang the
name simultaneously, as the pretended
invalid turned her wan features toward
them.
Dying features they were, to all semblance.
The Doctor's art and her own
deft acting carried out the intended
effect completely.
"Kaymond!" she fluttered, in a weak,
wailing voice. "Say that you forgive
1 me. I did wrong in deluding you. I
1 even sought to ?nd Edna and restore
her to you after my cruel deception, but
she is dead. A distant relative left me
1 a fortune. The only restitution I could
make was to aid your father. I am dying.
The only reward I ask Is that .vou
take my hand and rorgive me ior it au.
Raymond Marshall stood liko one In
a dream. All the past flashed over his
mind. This woman had, indeed,
wronged him, but still she was not fic|
countable for Edna's death. As he
thought of all she had done for his
father, as he fancied he read a noble remorse
in her words and deeds, a generJ
ous impulse drove him forward.
Ho felt her burning land twitch in
} his own. Ho did not doubt, after all
the Doctor had said, that she was adys
ing woman.
? "You did me no wrong except to tortun.*
:nc with a passing belief in tho
* * * * * - * T 1 1 ?? U _
| laithlessness 01 trie woman j. iuvuu, uo
said.
"For love of you!" murmured Bei
atrice, fervently. "Haymond, I can tell
<i i you now, for I shall soon dio. I was not
n j to blame for my love, and I had not Ed
j na's gentle nature to endure in silence,
e I loved you so hopelessly, yet so
fondly!"
His eyes dimmcl with tears. Love
. I was surely no sin, eveu when hopeless.
. | His great heart stinvd with honest
. pity.
1 "J can die in geace, now," she Bald,
"for your eyes ten me tnat i am lor- J
given. Raymond, good-by?good-by!"
Her eyes were raining tears. Oh, I
actress deft and subtle! oh, hypocrite
6trong and confident! pitting all the issues
of life upon the frail cast of a die.
She turned her face to the wall, her
sobs causing the sympathetic Colonel
to wince with honest pity. Raymond
looked concerned, grieved.
"Can we do nothing to make her bappier?"
spoke the Colonel, deeply aflected.
"Can I not tell her how grateful
I am?how some arrangement must
be made for the repayment of the
money advanced?"
"She would refuse to consider it," responded
the Doctor. "But?no! I had
better not mention It."
"Speak, Doctor!" urged the Colonel,
eagerly. "You wore about to make '
Bome suggestion?"
"It concerns your son. This morning '
this poor creature wailed her heart-e.ick- I
? ' 1 r-~ 1.!? OV- !
ueso uvbi u?r love ior mm. sue uouuw i
6urvlve tho night, and yet I think she
would be infinitely happy for that brief
period of time if she knew that you
Forgive me, gentlemen, my task is too
difficult to complete."
"If she knew what?" demanded Raymond,
softly.
"If you would consent to wed her.
Kay, sir, do not start. A dying child's
wish; you need not gratify it, only she
has left all her fortune to you."
"I will never accept iti" dissented
Eaymond, indignantly.
"The law will make you. This poor
girl's devotion is pitiable. Give her
your name, render her dying moments
happy. It is not much to do, for before
morning you will be a widower."
The plot was out. This wa9 the defti
design two clever schemers had planned.
The unsuspecting Raymond Marshall
never dreamed of a new deception.
"Raymond, do it; it will quiet talk
when ner will is read. Poor creature!
her devotion is indeed pitiable," spok?
the Colonel.
Eaymond Marshall thought of the
woman dead and of all his love for her;
of the woman dying and his pity for her
fnrlnrn helolessness. 1
"What does it matter!" he murmured,
dejectedly. "My life is gloom?the future
aimless. If that small ceremony
can brighten this dying girl's moments,
Doctor, I will marry her!"
The cleyer actress on the couch
thrilled wildly. At last, reward; at last,
success! Her hour of triumph had come.
!to be conxinced.1
CURIOUS FAC1S:
The Bank of England contains icgots .
cf silver which have iain in its vaults
for 200 years.
In every school in Paris there is a
restaurant where free meals are served
to the children who are too poor to
pay for them.
A well seasoned old colored woman
is Mary Marks, vho resides in Brenham,
Texas. She was born in the
West Indies in 1776,.and i6 therefore
120 years of age.
Paper coffins are the latest novelty
in mortuary furniture. They are i
pressed into shape from a mass of
pulp, and, when stained and Vftrni.-hed,
look just like wood.
In Deerfield Township, Kansas, a
swarm of bees settled on the neck of a
horse belonging to D. L. Palmer.
Afterward Mr. Palmer picked 300 or
400 6tings from the animal.
A willow tree in front of Mr. Barker's
house in East Sullivan, N. H.,
spreads ninety feet and is 6ixtv-h've
feet high, and its circumference one
foot above the ground 16 sixteen feet.
The sense of smell is keen with cats,
even when they are asleep. A piece
of meat placed before the nose of a
sleoping cat causes the nostrils to
dilate, and in a few moments the animal
awakes.
The largest bell in France has been
hung in the belfry of the Church of
the Sacred Heart, in Paris. It weighs
twenty-eight tons, can be heard a distance
of twenty-five miles and its
vibrations last six minute?.
A useful charity called the London
Spectacle Mission provides spectacles
for poor needlewomen and other deserving
persons dependent on their
eyesight for a living. Last year 726
applicants were provided with spectacles.
A two-year-old child of the Rev.
Arch Luca*, who preaches in the Kentucky
mountains, near Lucasville, has
never U6ed its fingeis, but does everything
with its toes. The toe9 are as
flexible as the fingers of the ordinary
child, and about as useful.
Orvingsville, Ky., feels itself entitled
toclaimjthe weather record for the
year, inasmuch as a lemon in a drug
store sprouted under the heat, shoots
springing from eight of the 6eeds.
One of the sprouts protruded through
the skin and led to the discovery.
That a candle made from human fat
bestows invisibility upon the one who
carries the light is a Russian superstition
of which two thieves took advantage
recently. They killei a handsome
boy of eigliteen, whose body,
with the fatty layers surrounding the
kidneys extracted, was discovered.
A Portland (Oregon) man has been
exhibiting some rabbits of a peculiar
breed. Their ears are described as
more than a foot long and covered
with unusually loDg hair. He got
them to tnrn loose for breeding in the
thiok Nehalem forests and thinks there
is no danger of their becoming pests,
as English rabbits sometimes do.
Tlie Largest Kitchen,
The largest kitchen in the world is
in that great Parisian 6tore, the Bon
Marche, which has 4000 employes.
The smallest kettle contains 100
quarts and the largest 500. Each of
the fifty roasting pans is big enough
for 300 cutlets. Each dish for baking
potatoes holds "225 pounds. When omelets
are on the bill of fare 7800 eggs
are used at once. For cooking alone
6ixty cooks and 100 assistants are always
at the ranges.
Physical Inequalities.
By actual measurement, of filtv skeletons
the right arm and left lag have
been found to be longer in twentythree,
the left arm and right leg, in
six, the limbs on tho right longer
than those on the left in four, and in
the remainder the inequality of tho
limbs fire varied. Only seven out of
the seventy skeletons measured, or
ten per cent., lind limbs of e<]nul
length.?Lancet.
A riucliinif Boot.
A boot or shoe that is uncomfortable
from pinching may be eased by
laying a cloth moistened in hot wtter
across the place where the pressure
_t_ if enrrnrn 1 fiinnc fla if
conies, cuujjyiui; m
grows cooler. This simple method
causes the leather to ehspo itself to tho I
foot.
..... li.J.yl fl-.-l LI-l-L.-l-1 ^ 111
h^ep
i /VrcVj&j.
I
FOOD VALUE OF STRAWS.
Buckwheat straw is never fed or, indeed,
used in any way, on account of
a common prejudice against it, to the
effeot that it causes diseases of the
Bkin.' Its value as given in the scientific
tables is forty cents for 100
nAnrt/lo r>n f of ?n TTT r? trtAnlVi t??
puuuuD) unv oiian uciii^ nuiiu x\j*vjfive
cents.?New York Times.
PRUNING RASPBERRY CANES.
Prnne raspberry canes in the fall.
Then the patch can be cultivated, or
what is better, plowed out with a one
horse plow, turning a furrow against
the plant. This brings to the surfaoe
many insect larvae, and thus cuts short
their career, to the advantage of the
fruit grower. A furrow is left between
the rcws whioh facilitates drainage
and puts the ground in better condition
for early cultivating than if treat- ^
ed otherwise.?Amerioan Agriculturist.
CORN AND SUNFLOWERS FOB SILAGE.
These two may be put into the silo
together and used as food for cows
with much advantage. The leaves and
beads of the sunflowers alone are used.
The stalks are only fit for fuel, for
which they are excellent, and in places
it pays to grow these flowers especially
for the fnel value of the stalk. The
seeds in the heads contain fifty per
cent, of their weight of a fine oil excellent
for cows. TheleaveB are somewhat
more nutritious than those of .
corn. Ti
i
REARING FALL PIGS. 1
It depends on circumstances wheth- 1
er or not it will pay to feed young 1
pigs over the winter. It depends, for ?
one thing, on how they are fed. Cer- <
tainly it won't pay to keep them, if ?
they do not grow ; and, as the summer \
growth is made at a vory small cost on
pasture, and the most growth is then '
made for the food used, it pays bet*
ter, we may be 6ure, to feed spring
pigs; but a skillful feeder, having:
some roots or potatoes to spare for
this use, with waste milk and bran or
oatmeal, may make the feeding pay a
good profit, but it surely will not pay
to half feed them.
AIM FOB THE TOP.
As long as the highest prices are
paid for the best, the moat enterprie
ing farmers will spare neither pains t
nor expense fo produce the best, and e
if their neighbors do not exert them- i
selves to keep up they soon will find t
themselves in the background. Our c
farmers must keep abreast of the t
times. They must think; they must b
read; they must study; they must ex- 1
perient; they must exert their minds
to the fullest extent to drag out from
Mother Earth her secrets of fertility.
Let them do it and she will reward ?
them with fertile fields and good crops
in abundance, and they will enjoy the
richest blessings of the most satisfying
and noblest occupation on earth. c
The Tvide-awake farmer who has 8
studied up agriculture can always live
as good as any other professional man, a
very often much better. For pure i
and fresh fruits, vegetables, butter,
egge, and meat there is no one to com- ]
pete with the farmer.?Practical <
Farmer. i
COWS IN THE BAItN. ?
A cow is nothing more nor less than i
a machine used to manufacture the f
rough products of our farms into a
condensed and finished product, and ]
her ability to do this at a profit or |
loss depends almost entirely upon us. j
None of us would expect a piece of j
machinery to do the best it was capable
of doing unless we did all we ,
could to keep it in running order, r
then why should we expect our cows "
to give us the best returns unless we *
do everything we can to have all the 1
oonditions right?
Cnwa Rhonld alwavs stand with backs 1
to tho light, and have plenty of room, ^
and be so fastened that they can mov6 1
about easily. I do not believe a cow '
will begin to do her best if crowded
and her head fastened with a rigid I
stanchion. If any think this position i
is comfortable, let them place their J
own necks between two boards and see i
whether or not it is comfortable, and
whether the position tends towards j
making one feel good natured. ?James ]
H. Brown, in Massachusetts Plough- \
man. ,
expebt LABok
Professor CanSeld, President of the 1
Ohio State University, tells the story
of going into a great steel foundry and j
seeing a certain man whose simple duty ]
it was to watch intently the heated \
metal, and when the refuse came to j
the surface to skim it off quickly. <
That was his sole occupation. "And (
bo," he continues, "I have been again (
ahnnc q ri
UUU QqUIU 1U gignv jjitn/uiuv WUV|/^ MMV. j
fouud men who were called expert
workmen assigned to do a single thing; ^
and while it did require a large (
amount of experience and a large ,
amount of special training in that J
special direction, there was no demand
for general intelligence, and the workman
was himself constantly narrowed ]
and shrivelled and weakened by the ,
very condition under which he was
obliged to labor."
He was simply a cog in the vast machinery.
That was all. There was 1
hardly a similtude left there, if we re- :
gard the free play of the faculties of 1
the mind, of that which makesa human
being to-day.
In connection with this work of '
aqriculturo more than anywhere else
is this demand for the free play of all 1
the faculties and powers of the mind
and body. I can only mention three
fnm. linon Tf i-nil llollAVA 1T1 t.hfl
mastery of all the conditions of production,
see bow absolutely essential it is
that tko iean have that large intelligence
and very quick mind. There
is ft certain kind of alertness that
would be found absolutely necessary
in any other trade or calling?in jbho
learned professions.
See how necessary it is that he
should be nble to understand and read
signs and indications, that he should;
>e able to catch quickly what nature
las to tell him. Finding yourself face ;o
face with the question of produc- [
ion to-dav in all lines, think what it .
V ~ * I
neans, tbu mastery of the conditions ,
>f the soil, the wisest and best condi- ,
ions of fertilization of the ground j
Every one can multiply it by almost (
thousands, and certainly by hundreds, |
ind still find its ramifications and
lifferent lines of thought and activity. (
How much more is required to-day |
;ban was required forty or fifty years j
igo? What is the market to-day, in .
ivhich you buy and sell? There may j
10 longer be any question that it is J
;he market of the world.?New Eng- ,
and Farmer.
i
DEVICES FOR A FARM WORK BENCH.
xne illustrations snow two devices (
"or making the work bench "handy." |
^ !
rhe strip of board has two pegs set '
nto it at an angle. In the side of the
jench are a series of holes bored, not
lorizontally through the side of the
jench, but downward through the 1
tide. The strip with the pegs can !
;hen be slipped into any set of holes,
iccording as the board to be planed '
lpon the edge is wide or narrow.
The other device is made by a 1
i
jlacksmith from an old flat file or
itrip of iron. When a board is to be
)laned npon the face this is driven into
he back end, and the other two points
Iriven into the top of the bench, when
he board will be held securely from
winging to one side or the other.?'
'Jew York Tribune.
POULTRY HINTS.
Don't overfeed. Too much grain is
sruelty. Fowls need no food at all if
'u a iou^o?
The roosling places should never be
)n an inclined plane, as there will be
k fight for the top places.
It is not desirable to have ducks lay
it this season, as there is but little denand
for their eggs at fair prices.
In the warm weather the hens on the ;
ange secure a large share of food that i
jannot be utilized in any other man- |
ler.
The production of eggs is continu- i
illy falling behind in this country. It i
s a source of possible profit lost
;ight of.
The b9st food for moulting hens is
ean meat. To have hens lay in win;er,
the early moulting hens muat be
:ed on food that will assist to renew
;he feathers.
Water given the fowls onoe a day in
lot weather is not the best plan,
rwice a day is the least it should be
jiven them, and three or more times
irould be better.
There is no better food for fatten- ,
.ns: ducks than cooKea potatoes or
turnips thickened with bran and corn
neal. Feed the ducks three times a
3ay all they will eat of it.
Two square feet of floor space is sufficient
room for ducks. A floor ten by
ben will accommodate fifty clucks.
Have the floor covered with chaff, cut
straw or some similar stuff.
Foods rich in nitrogen and the phosphates
are in demmd by moulting
bens, and of the grain foods, bran is
the best. The bran should be scalded
md to a pint of bran should be added
balf a pint of corn meal and a gill of
'inseed meal, mixed to a stiff dough
tvith milk.
One of the best uses for wheat chaff
is to use it on the floor of the poultry
bouse. It may be three or four inches '
thick, and serves several purposes, the
first being to keep the floor always
iry and clean, and the next is that if 1
i few millet seeds be scattered in the
:haff, the hens will work and search
industriously for the seeds.
A limited quantity of silage for poultry
can be preserved in tight barrels,
jreen clover and finely cut sweet corn
ire most desirable. Put in a layer of
jlover, then a layer of corn, alternating
until the barrel is full. Pack well,
put in the head, and cover with earth
jr coarse horse manure. The ersilage
will come out in good shape and make
in excellent succulent feed for winter.
It w:ll do to pick geese two or three
times a year, whenever the feather is
ripe, which will be known by examiniug.
It' it is bloodless and pulls easily,
is ready to pluck, but if tilled with
blood, is "green" and not mature.
Commonly, when readv to pluck, the
feathers drop more or less. It is n
or.,1 cm T-?TT>to/>tinn tn draw all
DJ LLiJ/IO I?UU uiuw ^/avvvwv.VM
old stocking over a goose's Lead, during
the operation.
There is no sure remedy for feathei
pulling. The first lien caught at ii
should be killed. Some smear the bare
places with tar, and others trim th(
edges of the upper and lower mandibles
so that the hens cannot hold ?
featlier. utnere separate mem, uuu
fining tliein for two weeks. The cheaj)
est preventative is to keep the hens al
work, but ns a cure is difficult, it is
best to send them to market and begii
anew.
THE WILD BULL i
THRILLING FIGHT BETWEEN i
BUFFALO AND SIOUX.
[*wo Daring Indians With Bows and
Arrows Bring to the Dust the
Kins of the Herd?The
Last Charge.
i
"T WAS on the plains in the sixties," i
said the short man. He did not
I look over forty, bnt he must have i
6 been more than fifty, for the tales ]
16 torn earned so muon 01 ine coior i
>f the country that one found it diffi- i
suit to disbelieve them. He was an i
ix-member of the* Colorado LegiBla- i
;nre, and had oome to Washington to ]
?ork for the passage of a bill to re- j
ieve railway employes, and was now \
leated with a party of friendB at one i
)f the small tables in the House res- 1
;aurant. His life had been varied and
nteresting. He had been a cowboy, <
in engineman, a railway postal clerk 1
md politician. The Spanish gentle*
nan had just finished an interesting i
iccount of a bnll fight whichhad taken i
place at Barcelona, in which, by some <
iccident, the bull had the best of it i
"I saw a bull fight on the plains 1
)nce," said the short man, laying his <
;ools down, "right out in the open, 1
vith nothing to hide behind, 'nowhere i
So stand bat on, and nowbere to rail J
Dot off,' as the deceased bard of St. ]
To would say. :
"It was while we were locating the ]
ine of the Union Paoifio?simply 1
Iriving across the country and mak- j
ng observations. A couple of Sioux
fell in with our party and were riding
ilong looking for a chance to steal
something, when we came suddenly (
lpon a small herd of buffalo. The
rear guard, a sturdy old bull, was feed- .
ng along in a sag between the sand '
lills, and, the wind blowing from him
bo us, prevented him from scenting
>ur party until the two Indians dashed
by, cutting him off from the main
herd. Lowering his head the great
brnte bounded away up the little hill,
it tlie top ot wmcn ine iwo oioux sai
waiting to receive him. Each of the
Indians carried a rifle, bnt to oar surprise
they were left hanging at the
saddles. The bnll made straight for
one of the horses, but just as he
seemed about to collide the bron3ho
sprang to one side and
m arrow from the Indian's bow
was driven deep into the back of the
bull. We expected the animal to bolt
uow, but he was enraged and scorned
to escape. Turning, he came straight
for the other Sioux, only to plow the
air close?alarmingly close?to the
agile horse, which carried his rider
? TKa Indian
SaiBl^T IU bUO X gui > J.ue U*?I>
bad by this time fixed another arrow,
and when the oharge was made planted
it deep behind the ball's left shoalder.
The fight had by this time become so
exciting that oar driver, forgetting
the danger, had driven np to within a
hundred yards of the scene of the
battle. Having bounded by one of
the Indians, carrying another arrow
away with him, the infuriated animal
oaught sight of our wagon and drove
straight for us. It was like standing on
the track in front of a locomotive, and
every man of us, realizing the great
danger, was seized with a fear that almost
froze his blood. The driver was
bo filled with terror that he made no
attempt to avoid the collision, which,
from the moment the bull passed the
Indian, seemed inevitable. On he
came, snorting like a enowplow and
looking as formidable, and not one of
as had presence of mind enough to
reaoh for a rifle. We were too badly
Beared to move, bat not eo with the
Sioax. Seeing oar danger the brave
fellows tamed their horses and came
galloping past the ball, one on either
Bide, and as they passed him each
drove an arrow into the mad brute.
These new wonnds seemed only to increase
his rage, and on he came, tearing
toward as, bat before they reached
our wagon, the Indians whirled their
horses, and with arrows drawn stood
between us aad the approaching
buffalo. The horses had barely time
to turn before the bull was upon
them. One of the broncos sprang
away, his rider emitting a wild yell as
he sent another arrow into the bleeding
buffalo. The other Indian was not
bo fortunate. His horse failed to clear
and one of the bull's horns caught in
its side just behind the girth and
niotPAd a creat furrow back to the
" ? - o
dank.
"The bnffalo appeared to appreciate
the advantage of this thrust, and
at once turned and charged the unhorsed
Sioux. The Indian might
have ended the fight by takincr up his
rifle, but he did not. Standing erect
at the side of his dead borse he faced
the rapidly advancing foe and sent an
arrow deep under the shoulder blade.
As the arrow left the string the Indian
dropped beside the body of his horse
and the buffalo passed over him without
doing any damage. Now the
mounted Sioux claimed the attention
of the wounded bull, and again tho
Sioux on foot. By this time the buffalo
fairly bristled with arrows and
resembled a huge porcupine. We
could see that the animal was getting
groggy, as they say of prize fighters,
but his sand seemed never to leave
him. With a roar that would send a
chill down your spine, with blood
spurting from his nostrils, he would
drive like a hurricane at his tormentors,
who, with the exception noted,
1 ""i.l V?im Iitt nhnnt. thfl
btiemea iu UIUIU u.ui ??? ?
breadth of two hairs. When they had
fought five minutes the earth for the
space of fifty feet about resembled a
plowed field. The one living horse was
iiecked with the froth of battle and,
like the buffalo, showed unmistakable
signs of exhaustion. As the action
of the bull grew slower, the
horseless Sioux fought further from
cover. At times he would stand forth
in the very face of his furious adversary
and after discharging his arrow
leap to one side while the monster
brushed by.
"We were surprised at the beginning
of the fight to see the Indians
using their bows, allowing their rifles
- i- XL. J
to remain at tue buuuie, uuw um auiprise
was still greater now, when the
mounted Sioux turned his horse about
and left the field, leaving his companion
to fight it out singlo-handed.
The bull seemed to take new courage,
finding but one of his assailants, and
for a time fought desperately. Of a
sudden he stopped, facing the Indian, j
With his front feet far apart he ap- j
peared to rest, pernaps 10 coneci ma i
last failing strength. He was an ob-!
Jeot sow to exoite one's pity, and, although
it may seem unchristian, I almost
wished he could win, for in those
days there were nearly as many Indians
as buffaloes and they were infinitely
more dangerous.
"An arrow had destroyed one of the
bull's eyes, blood was rushing from
his mouth and nostrils and trickling
from a score of wounds along his .
spine. His life blood was ebbing
away, and now, seeing his tormentor
Btanding before him, he made a last
desperate effort to reach him. With
a mighty roar the bleeding brute I
bounded forward, and it seemed to us 9
that he had regained all his bat I
strength, for he went with the speed I
md force of an express train. The I
iaring Sioux drew another arrow and fl
let it drive into the buffalo, made a I
feint of dodging to the right, and I
' ? * I i.~ la* flrr fl
men, leaping w mo au&v,
mother arrow as the baffled ball went
by. . . '
"The buffalo was by this time acquainted
with the Sioux's trioks, and
the moment he passed the Indian,
whirled and came back at his adversary
with renewed vigor. The Sioux,
surprised perhaps by the suddenness
the charge, leaned back, stumbled,
and nearly fell backward over the
body of his dead horse. Before he
uould regain his feet the animal was
apon him. It seemed that in another
moment the Indian would be tossed
high in the air, but the new lease of
life the bull had was out, and in that
moment in which we had looked to see
him triumph, the great beast stum
blod and fell in a heap at the Sioux's
feet."?Cy Warman, in New York Sun.
In Which Teeth Figure.
Hippocrates, 450 B. 0., was the first
dentist on record.
Gold-filled teeth are fonnd in the
jaws of skeletons exhumed at Pompeii.
Wetting a brush and dipping it in
salt will be found efficacious in removing
tartar.
Dental science was utterly lost to
the world during the dark ages, or for
about 1000 years, and was only restored
in 1700.
Out of 100 teeth of adults that
twenty-five years ago would have been
1L1??1- A<nn A Irtftcf n 1 flflf tf.Ttl 71 A
rUlUICBBljr uilinu bu igaov uiuwvj mamv
are saved to-day by the progress of
dental science.
In China while the dentist pnlls a
tooth an assistant stands by and
drowns the lamentations of the victim
by beating a large gong. ,
The ancient Greeks used false teeth
of sycamore wood fastened to the adjacent
sound teeth by ligatures of
silver or gold in the way bridge work
is done to-day.
In ancient Egypt the art of surgery
and medicine was confined to the
priesthood and every priest adopted a
special ty. His proficiency was attained
in thfl Hftntal art.
Under the Mosaic law of an eye for
an eje ana a tooth for a tooth the regime
was practically carried oat and
the lord high executioner numbered
forceps among his instruments of
penalty and torture.
Weight Before and After Meals.
Why is it that a man does not weigh
a pound more after eating a pound of
food than he did before? A little reflection
will readily explain this apparent
mystery. During the process
of mastioation, deglutation, etc., certain
muscles are brought into active
play. Now, it is a well-established
fact in physiology that the exercise of
any muscle or set of muse' necessitates
a temporary waste of tissue, and
that a certain amount of carbon is
eliminated and passed off in the course
of a meal. This loss, however, is trifling
as compared with that of respiration
and perspiration, both of which
fnnftfcinna are increased during the
operation of making a meal.
The length of time one may take to
consume a pound of food makes but
little difference in the losses. If it be
eaten very leieurelyjthere is but slight
increase of respiration or perspiration.
Whereas, if it be hurried through both
are abnormally accelerated. Hence by
the time the meal is finished the consumer
has lost appreciably in botb
moisture and carbonic acid.
The above explains, in a rough but
clear manner, why it is that a man ma;
pat a nound of food and vet not weigh
but from one-third to five-eighths o)
a pound more than he did before the
meal.
Odd Tilings in Animal Lite.
The horn of the rhinoceros is noj
joined to the bone of the head, bu>
grows on the skin like a wort or corn.
The colors of a chamelion do not
change instantly, as is popularly sup
posed, bnt require a considerable
length of time.
The idea that the toad is poisonom
has a foundation in fact. Their skint
secret an acrid fluid, which is very irritating
to human flesh.
Condors have been seen to circle tc
and fro in the skies for half a day at c
time, rising and descending without
once flapping wing. There is a mys'
tery about their method of motion
that has never been explained.
A rat's teeth have a verj hard anterior
edge, while the hinder part art
Comparatively soft. By continual
gnawing the rat manages to wearawaj
the softer parts of his tooth substance,
keeping the harder parts at &
razor edge all the time.
There are several species of lizard*
which, when frightened, will amputate
their own tails by a quick jerk. Th<
discarded member flounces around anc
attracts the enemy while the body is
effecting its escape. Within a few
weeks the tail grows out fall length.,
and the lizard is again ready to work
a trick on an enemy.
TThat Dreams Indicate,
Professor Theltshu says that livelj
dreams are in general a sign of nervoui
action. Soft dreams a sign of sligh!
irritation of the brain; often ir
nervous fever announcing the approach
of a favorable crisis. Fright
ful dreams are a determination of
Mnrwi to the hoxd. Dreams about
blood and red objects are signs of ia ?
flammatory conditions. Dreams aboui
rain and water are often signs of dis
eased mncous membranes and dropsy,
Dreams of distorted forms are fre
quently a sign of abdominal obstruc
tions and disoruer of the liver.
Dreams in which the patient sees anj
nf tha boflv p<ar>pr?inllv sufferin?
lyt** v -J ?sr * mm
indicate disease iu that part. Th< B
nightmare, with great sensitiveness,
is a sign of determination of blood t< I
the chest.--Hall's Journal of Health H