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WiL*" CHAPTER IV.—(Continued.) He looked at the girl. She wore a plain gown of some cheap grey stuff, simply made, and a narrow white col lar but the gown nearly touched the floor, and Enderby was astonished at the change the different garb wrought in her. She now looked a girl of sev enteen. Her figure was very slender, but the grey gown Bhowed soft, wo -r .manly curves. vW- Then he glanced into her face. 'A slight color was in the cheeks, her 'eyes were soft and dreamy. Then was something in the whole faca wonder fully gentle and sweet, yet the mouth spoke of firmness and steady purpose. Enderby was the first to speak. "I hope your ankle is better now, Miss Lloyd?" "Oh, thank you, yes! It Is nearly well again," she answered quickly. "I 96'not think it could have been a sprain after all. I bathed it vlth a lotion, and it is only stiff new. You see, I understand a little about doctor ing people," she added, with a slight smile. "I am very glad," he answered. "And jrour father—how is he?" The girl's face quivered a little. "He is a little better than he was that night, or he would not be here pow. But he is still very ill." "And the doctor you wished—Doctor Lyndon. Have you found him?" En .derby asked. •.' His voice w&s hardly under his con -trol as he put the question. She hesitated a moment then an swered: "Yes I have found him. He has been to see my father, and says he thinks there is no immediate danger." "Perhaps he knows your father's ^constitution well? I suppose that is the reason why you were so averse to jhaving a stranger?" said Enderby. "By the by, I know a Doctor Lyndon, and wonder if he is the same man. A Doc tor Dundas Lyndon—a slender man, with brown hair, a good complexion, grey eyes, and wearing a beard." "Yes, that is he," said the girl, with reluctance in her words. "Then you know him, Mr. Enderby started, then smiled. "Why, I believe I have never told Son my name! How stupid of me! It Is Paul Enderby. I am a barrister by profession, and met Doctor Lyndon only the other day. Do you know him .. well, then? He is an intimate friend?" "Of my father, he seems to be," the girl answered slowly. "But I have not .known him for very long. You see, we have been abroad—" She drew berself up sharply, then looked at En derby with a sudden fall in her eyes. "Oh, you must forget that. Mr. Ender by! Will* you? I have no right to talk about my ikther's affairs." "Don't be afraid. A lawyer learns to keep his own counsel, Miss Lloyd," said Enderby. But a sudden chill had fallen upon bim as the girl spoke. He stood for a moment silent, then looked up and spoke. "Miss Lloyd, will you answer me one question? Your name is a Welsh one is it possible you are of Welsh 'descent?" "I think my mother was Welsh ut I am not Bure about my father," 'said the girl. "You see I was away from my parents for a long time, Mr. Enderby. When I was quite a little 'girl, an aunt—a sister of my father's —took me to stay with her. My'father was very poor then, so poor that he bad to teach in a private house he was a tutor. I think. Did you speak, Mr. Enderby? I thought you did. Then I'Jolned my father later on, when— But I must not say any more." She looked into Enderby's face with sweet, childlike, trusting eyes. Ender- r. 4y felt himself a traitor, though he had Jv :/done no harm to either the girl or her ||lifather. This was the man, then! His vague S suspicions had been correct. How strangely, how wonderfully Fate—or rather Providence—had thrown these people In his way—the very man whom whom he was to prove guilty of a base and terrible crime! And Dundas Lyndon? Somehow, the thought of this man made Enderby's heart grow vaguely prescient of evil. .What part did he play In the arena of human sin and suffering that he should be trusted both by Sir Henry .Lennox, and by the man whose crime .'it bad been Sir Henry's part to prove? N Suddenly the girl said: "Will you allow me to go up and tell my father you are here, Mr. Enderby? I told him how you had helped me, and I think he will see you." "I should like very much to see Mr. Lloyd," said Paul earnestly. And the girl left the room, She returned in a short time. "My father says he would like to see you, Mr. Enderby. Will you come this way?" He followed her across the dingy corridor, until she paused before a door and opened it. He found himself In a room much more comfortably fur nlshed than the other. A bed stood in the center, with a white coverlet laid neatly over it the room was aB tidy and clean as it could be. v.- Besjde a small flre—the sun was "•khinijjg brightly outside—stood a com iortably-cushioned easy chair, and in It, .clnd In a. somewhat old and worn dwssinggown, satthe mere shadowof man—a thin, emaciated creature, .e ion« limbs -ahd^ evident ^elgjbt M, to make bis emaciation more .ed. His hands, almost skin and I, were crossed on bis knees a pa ay .between them.v He tamed his toward the door as they entered, Enderby saw It :fully. It was a that bad once been a handsome .gentle and refined but now tbe lt?te To Conscience i\\% u"" & 3 «f.K V"? vfjf'" X* gfpl VVa Mr '9*m iff. 3. XV elsh y^y^j^yid^^3di3fci3it22*fctidbSddiifc3i3ddi£2fcS£tib3^tiB bloodless lips, the hollow cheeks, the sunken blue eyes, the temple, over which thin gray hair kept straying, made it more like the face of a dead man than of a living one. A strange feeling of mingled pity and compunction moved in Enderby's heart as he came forward to the chair. "I am sorry to see you looking so ill, Mr. Lloyd," he said, as the sick man made a gesture to rise, bowing as he did so. "Do not rise, I beg of you." "Jasmine, will you place a chair for Mr. Enderby?" said the sick man. It was the first time Paul had heard the girl's name, and he turned to look at her as she brought forward the chair. Jasmine did not raise her eyes, but she must have felt the look she did not see, for a second blush dawned in her cheeks. For the moment she seemed a woman in the first glorious dawn of womanhood. She placed the chair, then almost noiselessly withdrew from the room. Her father glanced to see if she was gone, then he turned to Paul. "Mr. Enderby, you were very kind to my poor little girl the other night, and for that let me beg to thank you. We have few friends, my child and I. We are poor and unknown, and there fore friendless. For me it matters lit tle, but for my child I feel sorry at times that it should be so. I some times wonder what would happen to her if—if I died. Yet surely God would raise up friends—the God who has nev er quite forsaken me, however low I have fallen." He spoke in a quiet, gentle voice— the" voice/ of a recluse who is more accustomed to tnink than to speak and Enderby glanced at him quickly. Was it possible that this man could be a criminal—this gentle looking, emaci ated, and now evidently dying man, the father of Jasmine? Or was it as Sir Henry had said, that he was real ly insane, at least on one point? "I thought, from what your daugh ter said, Mr. Lloyd, that you had at least one friend," l}e said, determined to probe the matter as far as he could. "Doctor Lyndon." The sick man was startled at the name, and looked up sharply. "Ah, yes—Doctor Lyndon! He was my friend—once," he said slowly, "and now also, I suppose. Yet sometimes— What was I about to say?" he broke off suddenly. "Mr. Enderby, there is something in you which seems to draw my confidence or is it that I have been so long exiled from kindly hu manity that I am eager to seize the first hand stretched out to me? But at least you are kind and generous so much I know from what you did for Jasamine. I should like if you would come to see me again. Will you?" "I shall be very glad to do so," said Enderby, almost eagerly. "May I come on Sunday? I have more time at my disposal then." "Thank you," said the sick man faintly. He stretched out his wasted hand, and Enderby could not but take It, yet again he felt a traitor. Jasmine let him out. "I am so glad you came," she said in a low voice—and he saw a mist come over the soft eyes. "He knows no one, and sometimes I think, If only he could speak of what Is preying on his mind, he would be better." "Then there is something?" Ender by said, holding the small hand with an unconscious close grasp. She checked herself again. "You must not let father know that I said that!" she exclaimed eagerly. "Good-by, and thank you so much!" "Good-by," he returned.' As he went down the long stairs he wondered again if he were a traitor. •r' CHAPTER V. "Do you think I shall soon be all right, Lyndon?" "I certainly think so with care and good nursing, such as Miss Jasmine is able to give you, you will soon be as well as any of us." "I must get well soon," said the sick man, with a flash of passion. "Lyn don, I can't die and leave *my child with this horrible stigma on her name. I have made up my mind to write to Sir Henry, and if he refuses to do-any thing then, I must tell the truth." Dr. Dundas Lyndon stood silent for a moment. There was no change in his smooth, freshly colored face his light eyes were on the ground. Pres ently he raised them, and looked at his patient. "You must not tell me these things, old friend—you really must not. I am simply a doctor, and am doing the best I can for you but I should much prefer if you did not speak to me of these matters. Now I must go. You will take your medicine as usual, and I shall call again tomorrow." "Lyndon," said the invalid, a little huskily, "you are too kind to me. How am I to repay you for all the kindness you show me—and gratuitously?" "Tush, man!" said the doctor—but an observant watcher might have fan cied that he turned slightly paler now. "Is that much for one to do for an old friend? We have known each other these fifteen—seventeen years— since you were my coach, Lloyd." H$ went away, and Jasmine stole back to her father. There^ was strangely, cruel expres sion on Dundas Lyndon's face as he turned toward the door for a moment. "Yes," he mutiered, between set teeth "I am doiny my best for you— and for, us all—David Lloyd." Jasmine Bat down at her father's feet on a low hassock. "The doctor thinks you are better today, daddy T" "Yes, little one. Perhaps I «i»«n be yfc" better soon now, Jasmine. I hope r\i There Is the work I have so often spoken of to you to be done yet." "YOB. dear." The girl looked Into the flre—they had always to have a small flre burn ing, even when the Sun was shining warmly out of doors—her brown eyes soft and dreamy. It was strange how really little Jas mine Lloyd knew of her father. She had been, as she told. Enderby, brought up by an aunt who lived in Cornwall, while her father, whose wife had died when Jasmine was very young, had acted as tutor in private families. Then, when she was twelve, there came a sudden summons for her. It came in the shape of a sea-captain, who brought a letter from her father. Jasmine was to go out to him the captain would take care of her. She was taken to a wild, little known place in California there her father was making a poor living by schoolmasterlng the miners' children and conducting the "St. Jago Argus." She was happy enough in that lovely, warm climate of rich luxuriance and fertility her father was good to her, wonderfully gentle and kindly. Then had come the upheaval of her life again. News had come to her fa ther which agitated him terribly, and in a week's time they were on their way home. They came to London and took the shabby two-roomed flat In Burdon Mansions. Her father wrote articles on California for some papers. Then came the first visit of Doctor Dundas Lyndon, which agitated her father again. Soon after he was taken ill, and sent for Doctor Lyndon. That was four months ago. Since, then he had been steadily growing worse, until that terrible night when the lives of Paul Enderby and Jasmine Lloyd came in touch. Her father had told her vaguely there was a work he had to do in Eng land, and she knew, more by instinct than by anything he said, that some terrible cloud of disgrace or fear hung over her father's life. But she did not ask him to tell her what it was. She waited patiently until the time came when he should be willing to divulge It to her and meantime she loved her father with all her heart, and trusted in him implicitly. She broke the silence presently. "Father, you know Doctor Lyndon very well, don't you?" "Yes, my child he was my friend years ago." "If it were not for that," said Jas mine, slowly, "I think I should ask you, dear, if you really trusted him. 1 don't, father." (Tn be Continued.) •./ Men's Shirtwaists In Home. Whatever may be the ultimate fate of the shirt waist man in this country, he is already established on a firm, footing in the Eternal City of Rome., Victor Emmanuel, the Count of Turin, and only two removes from the throne of Italy, has given the shirt waist his sanction, and all the Roman dandies have been quick to follow his example The Count of Turin is one of the most enterprising and interesting young Princes in Europe. He has traveled widely, coming to this coun try in 1898 and spending a part of the next year hunting big game in Asia. In adopting the shirt waist, for hot weather wear the count has made some startling Innovations in the decoration of the garment. On one of his shirt waists the buttons are made of gold ten lire pieces, set in two rows down the front of the garment, beginning at the top close together and ending at some distance apart below. On an other waist the buttons are made of black jet, each as large as a half dol lar, and arranged in the sme way.— Chicago Tribune. Thinking of Her. In the "Recollections of a New Eng-. land Town." is the story of Mr. Bush, an inventor and a studious man, whq sometimes became so absorbed iq thought as to forget both place and people. His wife was a notable house keeper, but she did not always go tq church. One Sunday she accompanied her husband thither, and glad an^ proud was he. But when the service was over he walked away home, leav-i ing her behind. Mrs. Bush was griev ed. "My dear," she said, when she reached the house, "I don't know what people will think. You came away without me. It was plain to be seei) that I was entirely forgotten!" Mf. Bush looked at her in a comical dis may. "Forgotten, my dear?" said he. "Oh, no, I don't think that's possible! Why!" a brilliant idea striking him, "now I remember, I was thinking of you all the way home. I was thinking what a good dinner you'd give mel"—i Youth's Companion. Queen Victoria's Pearls* When Queen Victoria ascended the throne, all the jewels left by George I III. and George. IV. became hers. Among them was a fine pearl necklace that had belonged to Queen Charlotte, wife of George III. Soon after the queen's marriage to the prince con sort, the king of Hanover claimed the pearls as part of the crown Jewels of Hanover. The claim was submitted to the law officers of England, who had, though with reluctance, to give their decision against the queen. The pearls are now worn on great occasions by the duchess of Cumberland, sister of the princess of Wales. Immediately on decision being made known, the East India company presented the queen with a fine set of pearls, far superior to those she relinquished.—London An swers. Signaling the Bank Bate. There Is quite a mild excitement just now at the Bank of England because of an innovation at that venerable and conservative Institution. A flagstaff has actually been placed above the building, and many are shaking their beads at the sudden giddiness of the Old Lady of Threadneedle street The suggestion has been -tmade in all seri ousness that numbers might be placed on tbe flagstaff and .the bank rates in dicated from time to time by the height of the flag on the pole.—tendon Chron icle. fir FABM AND GAJtDEN. -V1 '9MS .. •4' MATTERS OP INTEREST TO AGRICULTURISTS. Son* Cp-to-Date Hints About Cultiva tion of tbe Soil and Ylelda Thereof— Horticulture, ^iUmilture and Flo^oifl- Cow Feas In Kaotas. 1 "*i Aside from small plat#, purely ex perimental, cow peas do not seem to have been grown to any considerable extent in Kansas, except by Hon. Ed win Taylor of Wyandotte county, whose experience has been published by Secretary Coburn of the State Board of Agriculture. A portion of Mr. Tay lor's observations is given herewith: Several of my neighbors are natives of the mountain portion o£ Tennessee, tor years I have listened to their stories of the value of cow peas and, tt last, some five years ago, I was "agrlvated" by their iteration into try ing the cow pea myself. I planted five acres of upland with them. I had the beas all right, estimated at from fif teen to twenty bushels per acre, and how c^me the question of gathering them. I couldn't get it (lone at all, for ihe reason that all the available pick fcrs in the neighborhood were picking potatoes. All the agricultural writers were Binging the praises of the cow pea, and last summer (1899) I surrendered again and gave the peas a second trial. I planted the first section, about ten acres, the 6th of July. The peas came up quickly, were well harrowed when about four Inches high, had no other cultivation, grew rapidly, but kept company with a good many weeds. We pushed the potato digging and neg lected the pea planting, so that when we were done digging two-thirds of the field was yet to sow, the ground hard and dry. About half was broad casted the other half planted with tha corn planter. It was Aug. 10 before we finished. On the broadcast sowing fully one and one-half bushels of seed to the acre was used on tha portion put in with the planter, about half a bushel per acre, and on that portion also was the best yield. The seed in the first instance cost ($1.50 per bushel) J2.25 per acre in the second 75 cents. About five acres of the por tion put in with the planter did not have the rows doubled, thus giving an opportunity for cultivation. It was gone over twice with a wheel culti vator, and the resulting crop, so much stronger and ranker than any of the test, convinced me that, on rich ground, the peas should be sown in rows wide enough apart to admit of thorough cultivation. The saving in seed over broadcast sowing will much more than pay for the cultivation, while the yield, judging from one year's operations, will be considerably Increased. The first week in September I cut a few loads of peas and ran them through the cutter to "seal" the en silage which we had just finished put ting up. It served the purpose the best of anything I ever used. We fed the peas green, dried, and half-dried. The cows seemed indifferent to the prep aration, so long as the supply was am pie. Not only was there the increase of milk noticed, but the access of thrift in the animals themselves was most apparent. I had two varieties, the Whippoor will and the Clay. The first named is the earlier variety It makes less vines and more peas than the latter. I There were more or less peas on most of the vine3 we fed. Nothing was weighed, but I guess the yield to have been around three tons of dry vines and peas per acre. A few stalks of the Whippoorwill, planted July 5, not cut, had matured their pods the latter part of September. My conclusions are: First, the Whippoorwill pea, planted In rows thirty inches apart and well cultivated, will make fine feed in Bixty days and ripen a full crop of seed in eighty days, and the Clay will follow on some fifteen days later. Sec ond, that so long as they can be hauled from the field they are about the fin est cow feed known, and I see no I reason why, when dried thoroughly, they might not be treated as other hay and retain their value. Third, if, when I have farmed that field another year, I find that my Tennessee- friends are vindicated as to the increased friability and productivity of the soil from the cultivation of this legume as fully as they have respecting its value for feed ing cows, then I shall want tc add my mite to a subscription for a monu ment to the man who invented cow peas. Clover Seed. A communication from the Vermont ExMriment Station says that clover seer absolutely pure is an unknown article in the market. In buying clover seed .it Is just a question of how much Impurity there shall be and what the impurity is. It is not necessary to have a great quantity of foreign mat ter In order to have a very undesirable mixture. If there is a half ounce or seed of some bad weed in a bushel of clover seed it may be' enough to Infest the farm for years. Vermont clover seed is probably no worse than any other and it is better to sow poor seed than not to grow clover—within certain limits—but in many cases the goods offered on the general market may as well be subjected to an ex amination. The Vermont Experiment Station made a number of these examinations last year. Twenty samples of red clover seed showed an average impur ity of 1.8 per cent by weight- Twelve Eamples of alslke clover showed an average impurity of 3.2 per cent. By actual count in small samples the seeds of noxious weeds averaged about tOO to each ounce of the clover seed. These wore principally sorrel, plan tain, goesefoot, quack grass, pig weed, wild carrot and kale, in the order named. Besides these there was more or less mixture, of other seeds like timothy, herds grass, etc., and of other species not counted as weeds. Thesei samplis were all secured of dealers in Vermont. Any man with a good hand lens can oftea form .a very good Judg ment of the purity or impurity of a lamplo from which be contemplates buying. '/r^SApTV- Chen 7n different articles of earn merce, and next to cotton and wheat furnishes the largest values in ex ports from the United States. Its name has become an epithet, says a foreign writer^ on swine. Its applica tion to man means greed and brutisfc ness. It is commonly supposed to be a scavenger, like the puddle duck. It takes mud baths. So do men. Thero is much virtue in mud. The hog bathes in pools of It to eoat his skin against the attacks of Insects man dips his festered hide in it to Improve his circulation and draw out his gout and rheumatism. The hog is pachder matous so is man—notwithstanding Cuvier's classification. I have seen men, know men today, with skin thicker than the hide of a rhinoceros. The hog is omniverous—so is man. The hog is carniverous by choice—so is man. The hog is herbiverous, gran iverous, graminiverous and phytlvor ous by education—so is man. These reflections *re induced by the indignities offered a useful animal. Ine hog was the ileanliest of beasts until man built a sty and imprisoned him in filth, fattened him on filth, killed him In filth and ate him in filth. No animal, w..d or domestic, Is so clean about its bed as the hog. It wants pure, sweet, fresh straw every time. The hog has brains, it has teen known to excel the pointer in scenting quail. Ru'l Worm*. The true bud worm (He'Iothls rhexiae) occurs in the more southern portions of the tobacco-growing re gions,but has not been no:ed in tobacco fields north of Maryland. The adult insect is a small, greenish moth. The larva or caterpillar of this moth is nearly always found in the bud of the tobacco plant about the time the plant -The true bud worm afinlt moth: (HtliothU rhtxiay a. b. 1 The Bo«. Tbe boc of today constitutes no leas full-grown Inrva, from wide: c, aamo. from above: d. need pod bored into by larvfc «, pupa-^QAtural size is ready to top. In some seasons they occur in large numbers and damage the tobaoco considerably. In the ear part of the season, as a general thing, but few of them are found, and in or dinary seasons they are not especially noticed* during the early "worming" of the tobacco. In August they begin to be more abundant, and generally leave the plant about the end of the month, entering the ground, trans forming to pupae and issuing as moths toward the end of September. Fampklns In the Hog Ration. At the New Hampshire Agricultural College experiments were made to de termine tbe value of pumpkins, apples, bran, milk and corn-meal in the hog ration. Eighteen were divided into six lots of three pigs each. The fol lowing rations were fed: Lot 1. Milk, corn-meal, and pump kins, cooked. Lot 2. Milk, corn-meal, and pump kins, uncooked. Lot 3. Milk and pumpkins, raw. Lot 4. Milk and corn-meal. Lot 5. Milk, and pumpkins and ap ples, half and half, cooked. Lot 6. Milk, corn-meal and bran, half and half. The pigs were fed for 25 days and made the following average gains per day: Lot 1 2.21 Lot 2 2.26 Lot 3 1.12 Lot 4 1.97 Lot 5 1.54 Lot 6 2.18 It will be noted that the greatest gain was made by tbe lots having corn-meal as a part of the ration, the pumpkin-fed lot being in the lead. The least gain was made by the lot receiving only milk and raw pumpkins. The table shows there was a range in daily gain from 1.12 pounds in the lot fed raw pumpkins to 2.26 pounds in the lot receiving corri-meal in con nection with raw pumpkins. We also see there was but little difference in lot gain and average daily gain where pumpkins were fed cooked or raw. Again, the highest market value was from the lot fed raw pumpkins and corn-meal. Close to this lot in value are the lots fed cooked pumpkins and corn-meal corn-meal, and corn-meal and bran. There was but little differ ence in the cost of the food for these lots, the corn-meal-brain ration being the highest. The lot fed. raw pumpkins and milk brought in the least money, but the cost of food was less by half than any of the other lots. Estimating the cost for each pound of gain we find the raw-pumpkin lot produced a pound of gain at a cost of only 2.39 cents, while all the other lots required over 3 cents' worth of food to produce one pound of gain, and the oorn-bran ration eost over 4 cents per pound. The highest cost to produce a pound of gain was in the apple-pumpkin ration, where 4.64 cents of food was required to pro duce once pound of gain. This was due to the price of apples. The lat ter, even at the low price of 10 cents per bushel proved less economical as a food for feeding these pigs than any of the other rations, and where they were used in connection with pump kins the average profit for the whole period was but 33 cents for each pig. All things considered, the lots fed pumpkins, either raw or cooked. In connection with corn-meal, produced the greatest profit, and at least cost for each pound gain, live weight Prof. Burkett of the experiment sta tion draws the following conclusions: 1. The cooking of pumpkins does not Increase their feeding value. 2. When pumpkins are available for pig feeding they can be fed most economically in connection with corn meal." ?. While raw pumpkins, fed In con nection with milk produced a pound of Win at small cost, so few pounds were produced it is advisable to feed corn meal with tfyem. 4. Apples, even-at tbe low price of 10 cents per bushel, are not an econom ical food for pigs. 6. Bran is not desirable as a foed 'fZKtt'. for pigs, even if fed witb cora-meal.1 This is further considered in the fol lowing experiment. Destroying tbe IVIre Worn. Ohio Experiment Station: The par-, ent of the wire worm is an entirely different insect from that of the white grub. In this case, the fully developed insect being the slender, brownish* beetles, known as snapping beetles on, account of their habit, when placed, upon their backs, of throwing thein-t selves into the air with a slight BnaJ and turning over and alighting uporf their feet. Their life history is very much the same as that of the white grub. These are also grass feeding insects, but while the white grub is more usually found upon higher lands, which the female seems to select for a place to deposit her eggs, the snap-, ping beetles, or skip-jacks, seem to prefer the lower, cooler and damper lands. It is for this reason that the lower lands are more often affected, by this pest, and it frequently occurs that the» patches of black soil among clay will bo more especially subject to infestation. While it would seem that the harder and more compact body o$ the wire worm would be less suscept ible to climatic influences, neverthe less, we find no more practical preven tion of the occurrence of this pest than, the fall plowing of sod lands, and, asj with the white grub, it is quite prob able that late fall or winter plowina will be preferable. While this rioas not, in all cases, insure absolute free dom from the attacks of these insects, there seems a stronger probabilit- ot their ravages another year being pre vented in this way than by any other known to us. The Danish ItRcnn Floy. There are a good many things that we can learn from the Danes, and among them we might name readiness to adapt ourselves to new circum-» stances. When about forty years ago the Danes turned to butter producing from grain and stock raising, they found it necessary to create a way to dispose of the by-products of their dairies. Naturally the way out was found in the hog. But the native hog was not just the kind of an animal that would make the most out of his food and so they imported a better hog from Holstein. When they investi gated this better hog they found that he had been created partly by an In fusion of blood from imported Eng lish hogs. So the Danes went to Im porting English hogs to be used with their own. A good many of these Im ported hogs W6re Berksiilres and some were what are known as Middle Whites. It is said that by 1870 nearly half of the boars in use in Denmark were of English origin. Most of the bacon had been consumed by the Danes or by the Germans, but by 1880 the English had begun to appreciate the high quality of Danish bacon. The English public, however, demanded a longer side than the Danish and Eng lish cross gave and the Danes took the hint and began to import what is known in England as the "Large White." It was a wise move on the part of the Danish farmers, and in seven or eight years England had be come the largest buyer of Danish bacon. At the present time the D5ne3, are endeavoring to develop a breed out of their mixed herds propose to call it the "native" brtwu. They will doubtless succeed in this, but if they try to get their breed and themselves into a state of eternal fixedness they may awake some morn ing to find that the bacon market has slipped out of their grasp. The no tions that govern market demands change, and the producer must always be ready to change with them. Horticultural Observations* An apple grower In Pennsylvania tells about a hail storm that swept over his orchard when the fruit ..-as only partly grown. Where a hall stone struck an apnle a little hard knot formed that seemed to extend to the core. It ever remained a blemish on the apple. While the rest of the ap ple would color up, the spot hit by the hailstone remained green In color. Have any readers of the Farmers' Re view had a like experience? A cherry grower says that If a sweet cherry could be produced that would prove remunerative it would take the market But the sour varieties are the only ones that can be depended on to give good crops. It is the same condition of affairs that confronts us in the growing of almost every other kind of fruit The varieties of inferior quality have the most profit In them simply because they can be depended on to give fair crops every year. ,s not $? P°ss'hle to Inspect fruit In the same way that grain is inspected, vl hen a barrel of apples has been head ed up, the apples having been pressed down as much as possible, It would be very destructive to the apples to have em opened and exposed to the bruis ing of repacking, repressing and re heading. Nevertheless, the laws should be stringent enough' to protect both the purchaser and the grower. Much of the rascality complained of In the handling of fruit is d^e to the repack ing by men that retail the fruit a The question of what Is the best apple to evaporate is being considered by some of our growers. To some ex tent it partakes of the nature of the question, "What Is the best apple for market?" In other words. It cannot fcs answered except with a good deal of modification. If good-flavored ap ples are used the consumption of the evaporated product will be stimulated but such good product cannot be put on the. market at as low a price as can fruit like the Ben Davis. The ideal apple for evaporation is a number tw» or three of the first quality apples That takes all but the best of those varieties oft the market, and at the same time does not lessen the quality of the evaporated product A recently published report by' J. a Dodge, special agent of the depjut* ment of agriculture, credits New Me* loo with possessing the -)stj^ei* ndnir her of sheep of any state or territory.: Governor Otero estlmatee liut years' product of wool over 18,(NN)^M' pounds and .declares that sheep biuh, bandtr is now the most profitable' l*i gustry in the territory, an4 that Iocfc masters are in bettor spirits than- fair' many fears. Helen Keller, the famous Mind deaf flute, has been elected vice prcsidoa^ ef the freshman class at Radcliife col* lege. PrOHperlty ,Tj for 1901. Indications point to great prosper*) lty for the coming year. This is sign of a healthy nature. The suo cess of a country, as. well as of an Individual, depends upon health. If you have any stomach trouble trjf Hostetter's Stomach Bitters* wliioi cures dyspepsia, indigestion and bii» lousness. Some men's political fields are po» tato patches only. M. D. Johnson, a seaman from the United States steamer Albatross, wh9 was one of the passengers on the "Owi" train from Los Angeles whicl» was wrecked near Antioch recently, thus describes Iris experience: 'TV ^as a little after two bells this mora* Infff and I was smoking my pipe in' the 'Owl's' stern gallery. The first, thing I knew of any happening v/a» Wiicii I was thrown violently froiii, Iuy seat. After the pitching aud jumping- had stopped, I crawled owl1, *nd saw that the steering gear of the Owl' had been carried away,' causing her to part amidship. The pfler end listed badly to starboard1 and went aground, throwing all the hands jii a heap to me listed side.i ISo lives were lost, however, though all were badly what damaged. One unlucky paa» senger bunted the glass out of a port hole, cutting her head and face quits badly. After wigwagging the craft coming up behind to change heri course, the forward end of our craft picked up the passengers and crew and continued her voyage. As fo» me, I will be glad when I am safe aboard 4he Albatross again. This cruising overland is too rough tad choppy for me." FROM BRYAN'S OWN CITY Cornea a Startling Story—An Open loi ter That Will Cau«e a Senaatlon. LINCOLN, Neb., Dec. 8.—(Special.)— At No. 2115 O street, this city, is the B. & M. wallpaper house. "B. & M." are the Initial letters of the proprie tors, Mr. A. C. Bonsor and Mr. O. EL Myers. The senior partner, Mr Bon sor, is a well-known and highly re spected citizen, and no one has evev doubted his truthfulness. It Is, there fore, the pronounced opinion In Lin coln and the state generally that th$ significant and very strong statements made In Mr. Bonsor's letter will go unchallenged. After explaining hit willingness that the matter be given the fullest possible publicity in the public Interest, Mr. Bonsor proceeds: I have suffered untold misery and pain for over ten years. My kidneys were diseased. I tried many so-called remedies, but tiey did me no good. 1 saw an advertisement of Dodd's Kid ney Pills, and fought some, and com- menced to not been ta I -began ti not had before th ney Pill all nig compl or t: ri 1 ,4j* -T3 shaken up and some* pe. I had [iys before ITS I had bp, and lis Kid sleepj no\ paii ^Dodd's Kidney Pills always 6Hs a box. All dealers. When a man insists in "explain ing" a thing it is a sign that it wor ries him. Tne only way to CURE diseases of the 6kln Is by cleansing the system and puri fying the blood: take Garfield Tea, it Is the best blood purifier known. Lucky is he who controls his tem per. Klrli, Kect Blood. Morley's Sarsaparilla and Iron not only purifies the blood but makes new, rich, red blood. If you have skin eruptions, boils, abscesses, rheu matism or scrotula, or if you have a run-down, tired-out-feeling, try this remedy and note the prompt results. Ask your druggist. He who earns appreciates it. his own education Some women think they love a man before marriage, but act as if they hated him afterward. OLDEST MAW IN AMERICA Tells How He Escaped the Terrors of Many Winters by Using Peruna. Mr. Isaao Brock, the Oldest Man in the United States. Mr. Isaac Brock, of McLennan coun ty, Tex., has attained the great age of 111 years, having been born .n 1788. He is an ardent friend to Pe runa and speaks of It in the follow ina terms: "During my long life I have know# a great many remedies for coughs, colds, catarrh and diarrhoea. I had always supposed these affections to be different diseases, but I havo learned from Dr. Hartman's books that thes9 affections are the same and are properly called catarrh. "As for Dr. Hartman's remedy, Pe runa, I have found it to be the be! If not tne only reliable remedy tor these a Sections. "Pesunc has been my Stand-by for nmny years, and I attribute my good health and my extreme age, to this remedy. It exactly meets all my requirements. "I have come to rely upon it almost entirely tor the many little things for which I need medicine. I believe it to be especially valuable to old people.** Isaac Pfpck. 0«tarr1i is dM (reatest enamr of old age* A person entire^ firpe-Jkmn ca tarrh is snr* to lire wST anfl tarrh eent by c, coldly,