r»p" wsssnmm wm . -. »^ »^ ». - . .,_, ^w .. .^^..,_. _^ 1^ A Romany Wife. In the low-ceiled living room of» â- mall thatched-roof«d nottage standing «D the Ijorder of a Suffolk heuth a woman sat alone by the aide of a wood lire, whioh guv« out the only light that relieved the gatheriag gloom of a win- ter's Bight. The occasional gleams that lit up the walls when an unburned brajioh fell amid the ruddy embers re- vealed that the room was sparsely fur- tkished with cheap new chairs and a table auch as would be within the means of purohaae of a lal>nring man who found regular employment in the farmyard and the fields. Their new- ness was painfully obvious; It uaa plain that every artirle in the room had but lately shed the rough straw wra[)- pings of the dealer's store. The fig- mredoilcleth on thetalile was soHhiny that It reflected the fire'irbt; theobaira bad an angularity that suggested the impoasiliility of a person comfortably conforming to their rigid outlines ; the unlit lamp, with its gaudily painted globe and pedestal, seemed meant for tawdry effect rather than use. If one might judge from the face and atti- tude of the woman she was consiioua ef the inrongruity which existed be- tween these garish objects and the â- moke-stained plaster wallH whioh contained them, for she hud turned her back upon them and was gazing mood- ily into the fire. The incongruity of taste displayed in the furnishing of the room wae empha- sized by the presence there of the woman herself. A glance at her was â- uffioientto compel the conclusion that â- tie waM as out of place in that weather-worn cottage as was the new- ly Ixiught furniture the contiguity uf which she was trying to ignore. There was something in the expression of her face when the firelight fell on it that suggested some captivu creature leoicing out through prison bars on the scene of its vanished freedom. It was a swarthy face and a bard one, but the dark eyes, with pupils scarcely con- tra;-ted by the dim light were restles.s, and revealed a faculty for fierce pleai- ure and pain that ni'thing el.'.e al)out ker betrayed. A mass of dark hair was gathered closely al.out her head, without a hint of any attempt at adornment, and her dress was that of ft farm-hand'.s wife who might at times find wark in the fields. But neither her attire nur the fashion in which her b«ir was done could hide the fa-t that Che woman was of Romany blood un- mixed witii any alien strain. It bad lieen a sluruiy day, and all through the daylight hours the sky had hstfn nbsoureU liy a murky cloud- wruck, which came up trom thu west- ward and swept stviftly over the brown heath and out over the grry ."ea. Sitting silent and alone the woman could still hear the wind wailing through the ragged fir edge that bor- dered the heath; at times, when a vio- lent gust seemed to lift the loui^e root thatch, its sudden sbo<;k upon the cot- tage walls drowned the distant roaring of the waves. 'Now ami auain some dried leaves from under the garden fenoe were blown against the window penas. but the woman dlil not turn her head, and suoh startling sounds were â- oon unheard amid the loud beating of ft rain squall. "The'gries' won't stray far from the camp to-night." she muttered to her- |Mlf, as the wind rattled the window frame, and an air eddy, which found Its way licn«atb the door, scattered â- ome of the saini that was sprinkled on the floor. 8he was thinking nf the life she had abandoned, of the time when, with the Romany folk of her trilje, she had en- . camped nn the heath under the shade of the very firs which were now spread- ing their dusky boughs .scawanl lie Tore the storm. Some of the gypeies were campe-l there that night, but none of them had come to see her; they looked ui)on htr an an outcast, unworthy of intercourse with their trilw. Only Reu- I en Lteâ€" "Watcher I ec," as tliekeep- ers called hiuiâ€" hadhad a word to say to her. Her mother had refuse'l to open the door of her van wh>n she l'n)cked for admissionâ€" she had seen lior dose it as she cro-ssed the heathâ€" iind when .she had looked tack asphe I'lrned away, her si.ster Klvira had !anghed mockingly at her from the lops of her husband's van. Almost | I nd with rnffn and mortification she ' bad stumbled against Reuben near her ' ttnge gate, and he had asked what â- 1 lei her. Was she nut hajjpy with a hou.se-dwelling husliand? Didn't the gorgio' treat her well f Was she tired nf living the reajiectable life of a plow- driver's wife? Dill she wish herself l,ack among the rascally roving crew who chnatfid servant girls out of their wages apil swindled farmers into buy- ing worthless 'gries?' Reuben had leen in Yorkshire when she ran away from, the ramp and married the slow-witted farmer's mon, who was smitten with her dark eyes and saucy looks; but her people had evidmtly told him all about her, for did he not fling back her very wortU in her teeth f Hut then he had Bo;-n how his words hurt her, for he had changed hi.s tone and spoken to her â- oftly. begging her to leave the life for which she could have little liking, and take up again the old free, roving ways. A defiant mood had come upon her as she listened to his bitter words but it had been hard to resist him when he spoke tenderly and gave utterance to tho.ughts that had often nf late come to her OS sb-^ sat In thq dusk alone, night after night the cravini{ for the old life had seized her; each time it had gained a fiercer hold, and she knew what the end rau-st be And now again she asked herself: What was she doing among the fettered house dwel- lers of a ijoverty-stricken hamletâ€" she who was of true Romany blood, and to whom freedom to wander where ,«he willed was the very breath of life? How rould she let herself be choined to the hearthside of a boorish laborer, who kept her there because she was able to cook his food and mendTiis clothes T She had come to him in a fit of pique after a quarrel with her peo- ple, and he had l)een only too glad to have her for her handsome face; but he. too, had changed of late, and had often come home eullen and ourlish because the village women had ridi- culed him for morrying a gypsy wife. Something that sounded like the taF>- ping of fingers at the window at length aroused the woman, and she opened the door and looked out into thenicrht. The force of the wind as it swept into the room drove her 1)ack for a moment ajid she was obliged to cling to the door for aupriort; but it seemed to awaken her from her reverie, and she .' tretched out her arms and drew in deep breaths of the chill niorht air. How good it was ! The .smell of the earth and of the autumn's fallen leaves .seemed to come with it from the fields and coverts beyond the heath. There was the camp fire, too, still burning under the shelter of the ridge; sureVy she could smell the smoke of the smol- dering twigs I A ilark shadow ob- scured the flickering flames, and she knew that one of the men was eeeing that the horses were safe for the night. The gypflies were starting for the south in the early morningâ€" Reulien had told her thatâ€" and they would not return to Suffolk till next summer. They were free to go where they pleased, but she Half an hour later the cottage door aga n opened, and the woman stole quietly out into the darkness. She iwu.'^ed on the threshold and gave a glance I awkward toward the table, where her husband's supper was la'd and the lamp was now lit. By its light it could be seen that she had put on adresB of ruby velvet- it was the one she wore when she ran away from the ramp â€" and her shjulders were wra[>|)ed about with a bright-colored shawl. She had put on, to), a velvet- trimmed hat such as the Romany girls favor, and its large grey feather blew about in the wind. Her hair hung down in glossy Mack curls; she had heavy goJd earrings ir her ears, and, Instead of the single gold ring that had encircled her third finger .she wore three heavy rings with flashing bril- Tants. She was a Romany lass again, and she gave a reckless laugh as she closed the cottage door. Before dawn. Reuben Lee's van had left the heath. He hud rouired his brother dur ng the niirht and told him he ha.l ihanged h's mind and was go- In? to travel again the northern round. He would meet him again in the â- pring, JoKh r^e, who bad caught sight nf a moving shadow In Reul»n's van. grtned behind a hand that might have hidden a^'awn. and said: â€" "All right; there's gries to be bought cheap that nad, no doubt, and the Tykes and their wenches have always got silver for a handsome lass who can tell their fortuned " MMR. T,ir,Y T,ANr.1HT Since Mma. Lily Langtry has again received attention from the Prince of Wales, the fashionable set in Englan 1 are quite rea(l,v to welcome her back to the fold. It was a remarkable case of gool luck that the Jersey Lily loiight the noted Australian horse Nor- man just a f>!w weeks ago, and as good fortune would have it, Norman won the most coveted prize, the Cesarewitch stake. In addition Mrs. Langtry won lariO.OOO, her return from »50,000 she had invested. While. the fair Lily was having a banquet in honor of winning, news was received that her husl>and. Edward Langtry, was dying in an in- sane asylum. As Mrs. Langtry has for Bomo time |uat had so much trouble about securing a divorce, the one which she obtained in California, having been '• declared illegal, the death of Mr. Lang- ! try removes the last barrier to her I marriage to Prince Esterhazy so no | doubt l)efore long " The funeral baked I meats will furnish forth the marriage j feast," I By the way, the Jersey Lily has had a oheckpred career. Every one is not aware that she was ot one time the reigning belle of the Island of Jersey, She was Emily Le Breton. When she t>ecame the bride of Edward Langtry her trousseau coi.lained but 12 gowns. After they moved to Lun Ion she made friends with the swell set. It was the Prince ot Wales who first called her the Jersey Lily. Londoners raved over her lieuuty. and poets chanted her chorus. It was rumoured that .she be- came too familiar, played a trick on Hi:: Royal Highness, in other words let a small piece of ice slip from her fingers right down the took of the Prince of Wales. The temperature of her place in society cooled at once. By way of " divertissement," Mrs. Lang- try took to the stage. She was a suc- cess in England, but far more popular in America, Part of her money was in- vested in a yacht ; she also fitted up a palatial home in California, situated ui>on her own mammoth ranch. Then she tried in various ways to shake off poor, inoffensive Mr. Langtry. One ot the last things be ia reiiorted to have said concerning her is, She shall nev- er untie the knot her father tied at the altar," Some people declare he went Insane from worriment over do- mestic affairs. On the other hand he< bad become terribly dissipated. AQRICULTURAl ' TREE PRUNING AND OULTURB, A reader asks for advice about treat- ing an old orchard. Can all api>le trees be trimmed alike 1 Sr>me of his are full of shoots, running up everywhere. Can pear trees be renovated -vhen scabby and old, asks another? And r. third wants advice alx>ut iiis maple trees that are dying. Such questions are constantly coming in, writes Mr. Pow- ell. I will try to give a succinct re- ply, because it is all Important that our trees shall be better cared tor and better underst.ood by thu people. I am told that every Japanese is a natural- born horticulturist. Our people lack tact with trees. A neighlK>r goes out with an axe and hews oft limbs. An- other cuts suckers off two inches from the limbs, leaving stubs everywhereâ€" and he professes to be a tree trimmer. But most let suckers grow till all the life is sucked out of the old lim)>8 and the trees are masses of decay. First. Keep your trees trimmed from their ))eginniug. Let no superfluous wood grow. It uses up and wastes vital- ity. Besides, by and by, if you have to cut off old and large limbs you will not easily get the stubs healed over. Suckers include all the shoots that come Op about the trunk, and tho.se that come out on the trunk. Look one* a year all up and down the main limbs for the straight end whips of young wood ami off with them. Second. Cut smooth, with a knife, as far as possible, instead ot a saw; but if you use a saw use a sharp knife af- terward to smooth over the rough cut. Cut or saw on a plane level with the main limb and as close as you can without marring the limb. There la what we call a collar about each shoot or branch ; cut close to that. It is of immense im{x>rtance that you do clean, smooth work. If you must out a large limb smear the cut with paint or oil. Third. Go over all your young trees in mid-summer, and with a small pock- et knife or with your thumb nail cut out and pinch out all that you see or can reach of superfluous shoots. This makes an annual pruning, and an annual hunt to avoid the need of prun- ing. The pruning should be after the leaves are off in fall or in spring. Many trees will hardly need to feel a saw for a quarter ot a century if watched. It does not pay to plant trees you do not and cannot watch. Fourth. Shape your tree* as they grow; that Ls, open the bead to light and air. Only remember that some trees naturally grow very erect, and some spread out very widely, and some form round heads. You must not try to force all to grow alike. A Seikel pear Is a round head, so Is an Astra- khan apple. A Uulfum i>ear grows straight up like a poplar ; so does a Hug apple, and so very largely does Northern Spy when young; but it spreads when older. fifth. Head your trees low dou n. I do not mean so low thut you caunot drive under. There will Im trouble with spreading trees like Spitzenbergs and (ireonings and Kings and Jonathans if you head too low. As a rule, about Ci\e feet is low enough for the first forks; but you cannot do all this heading at first. The first few years you must let lower limbs remain so as not to make the trees switch like, and check its de- veloi)meut. Never spoil the stocky ap- («araace of a tree and make it look like a whip handle. Sixth. When you trim, carry a sharp pruning knife and a flexible strong piece of wire. Do not feel sure that there are not grubs under or in the bark. Where it looks black cut, and if the under bark is black also, cut frsjely until the dead part is removed, and you will then also make sure that grulis are not concealed and doing mischief. AUnit the lower trunk ex- amine for borers ; and use your flex- ible wire to kill them. Cut freely; it is far less damage to cut a tree than to leave it to the mercy ot destroyers. I go over the whole trunk of all trees â€"fruit or shade trees â€" annually. If infected 1 go oftener. After a thor- ough work with knife, I u.se a wash ot strong kerosene emulsion. L'his 1 ap- ply in some cases once a mouth. Use a pint to a pailful of water. Keep a gallon of emulsion always on hand. It IS the best ot all applications to make sickly trees revive. It is probable, if your shade trees have been dying, that there are lK>rer8 somewhere. If not, Home form ot anthrax or fungoid dis- ease Ls at work. Use, in either cose, the kerosene emulsion. If you are sure of anthrax, or find no borers, wash the trees thoi-oughly with copperas water, ten pounds to fifty gallons ot water. This should t>e done when the foliage is oft. A good supply tli-opping about the roots will do no harm. Seventh. Keep all sorts ot trees well cleaned of gross and weeds aliout the trunk, and well supplied with coal ash or other mulch. It is well to have a compost heap always forming to use tor mulch. This is one of the most impor- tant ix>inl.s about a horticultural home. I have thetie compost heaps in diftorent places. Into them are flung all weeds, all leaves, all sorts of manure and rot- ting fruit. Old heaps of refuse are begged orbouhgt, and dozens of wagon loads of autumn leaves are gathered for these composts, il^U aahe(i and coal ashes and brine are added. These com- posts are used not only for mulch, but to cover strawberries, Tou cannot too strongly emphasize the value of this sort of property. It is a sin to burn > leaves. Eighth. Now about different varieties ot trees, which seems to be the pnzzle with many who desire good onh^irds and fine places. Do not undert;i'-4e to trim all trees into the same shape, but apply the foregoing rules to all sorts. .Special difficulties occur with special varieties. For instance, a Northern Spy will generally spread out into limbs from a single spot, bringing the strain all upon that spot. W^e must prevent this by cutting. Use your brains in de- (dding how to compel the branching to ix.cur. at more intervals. Very erect- growing trees must be thinned a little in the top, but the top never cut off. On lawns where there is not much room for a tree to spread graft in fruits that will grow up like the Spy or the Buftam pear or the Sheldon; or plant such as the Prunus Simoni. Ninth. As a rule it does not pay to undertake to renovate trees tliat have gone far into decay. A good orchardist is always planting trees, and always cutting more or less of decrepit ones. I find that the trimmings with old trees cut away, each year, keep me in firewood for six months on a place of nine acres. It is not possible to avoid more or lea« of this passing away of trees. But it we are learning w ith the years, we shall lie glad to have vacan- cies to till. Do not set new apple trees in the places occupied by old ones; they will surely die. It is better to plant I)ear or plum or cherry orchards where the apples stood. So my ad- vi c Ls, do not waste much time or labor on decrepit trees. Pear trees that are stunted l.ut not really rotten can he often wake t to new life by dig- ging about and fertilizing them, and by scraping the bark and washing with kerosene emulsion. I have seen pear trees that have stood nearly barren for many years wake<l to growth and heavy cropping. Rules will not settle all these cases. The oNvner of treeji must be a student of trees aivd learn by investigation and ex|x'riment. It is to be hoped that our common school curriculum will, ere long, include a knowledge of applied lK»tany, entomology and .science of hor- ticulture. * FARM WORK TO BK DONE NOW. Work is any crowilin^? <'n every hand. The days are short and in order to get much accomplished it is nece: sary to be ready for work at daylight every morning. The progressive, pushing farmer tries to get bis work all done before cold weather sets in. The vege- tables must all be harvested and stored before there Is any danger ot their freezing. The corn should be husked | and the fodder in the barn or carefully \ stacked. If left in the field many of | the shoi'ka will fall down, to the se- ] rious detriment of both corn and to<l- j der. Mice and sometimes rats will destroy much of it. In order to make the moHt out ot the fodder it should be cut or shredded before feeding. It is more convenient to handle, goes f ar- j tlier and makos better manure. The cutting can be done with a hand ma- chine if the amount is small, other- wise hor.se or staam power had better be Uf<e<l . The industrious farmer will never be idle on account of had weather, but will plan his work accordingly- He ought to have a room where he can work with comfort in bad weather, and have a small stock of tools with which to do ordinary repairing. During winter, tlie farm machinery should bo repaire<l and repainted when neces- sary. It is surprising what an amount of repairing a man who Ls handy with tools can do, and what a saving it ef- fects in a year. A small stock of tools, including those neiessary tor black- smithing, can l)e bought for 815 to $'20 and their use will save their ct>8t every year. It wagiMn and other implements are kept in good repair always and are well painted, they will last one-half longer. All this can be done at home at a very small expense. i Winter ia also a good time to prepare ^ material for fencing and building pur- pMies. Also to lay in a good supply of fuel, for the majority of farmers still luse wood, ready for the stove. | When prepared about a year ahead, and thoroughly dry, about one-third less is required than it used green. There are always mild days when this work can be <U>ne. Later in the winter ma- nure can be drawn to the field and spread ready for plowing under a-ssoon as the ground is in proper condition in spring. WHAT TO FEED FOWLS IN WINTER. We all like a warm breakfast on a oold morning and farm fowls appreciate one too. Place clover rowen, out to one-quarter-inch length, in a pail and pour on sufficient boiling water to scald it. Let stand for a tew minutes, then add equal parts of corn and oats, ground together, and wheat bran to which Ls added one-aixth i)art animal meal. Mix and feed at opoe. Give plenty of pure water to drink. Be sure not to forget the water. At noon, scatter a few spoonfuls of wheat in the litter, to afford th^ hens a little exercuje. Gather what eggs j there are, to keep them trom freezing.! Toward night give a feed composed ot | tour parts oats and one part each ot , wheat and com. Scatter in the litter. ' Gather up the remainder ot eggs and see that there Ls plenty of clean water. When the fowls have gone to roost for the night, empty out water dishes and look up the house. The amount ot C/Orn may be increased or diminished according to condition of fowl. Small and active breeds can eat more corn to advantage than the larger fowls. Boil- ed potatoes or other vegetables may be given frequently to good advantage. Cabbage, beets and turnips may be fed without cooking, and will help to increase the supply of eggs. Ground oyster shells should be kept wliere the fowls can have access to them at all times. It Ls well also to have a box o( gravel or crushed rock within reach. There are o+her method* _pf feeding that give good results, but, oost con- sidered, it Is not easy to find a better one. With the exception that the clover rowen may be omitted during that part of the season When the poul- try have a grass run. practically th« same method of feeding may t)e practio- ed throughout the year. WOMAN'S WEARY LOT. l-ow Ike Weaker Hex are Treated •â- > the Alaskan t'oaat. Women of aboriginal peoples all over the world have frightfully hard times, but in few places worse than among the natives of the Klondike region. There it ia the fa-shion when « child is born to drive the mother literally out ot the bouse as soon as parturi- tion is accomplished. She is shunned by everybody as unclean and left ta her fate, while the father is put to bed and as carefully nursed as it be were passing through a critical illness. This is aanong the Indians of the in- terior, the people who have only with- in the last few years permitted the whites to enter their territory to look for gold. The Esquimaux ot the Alas- kan coast, who belong to an entirely different race have no such brutal cus- tom. Xhey are kindly folk, treaiing their women pretty well, but the lat- ter find life dlffioult enough, owin^ to the frigid climate. The only wash- ing the Esquimau baby gets is be- stowed by its mother's tongue. When theE.squimau husbaudcomes home from a hunting trip he is usually completely exhausted. Very likely be has been dragging a seal or other large animal for many mites over the ice. His wife's first task is to scrape the snow off him with an ivory knife that Ls somewhat like a paper-cutter. Her next business is to cut strips of seal blubber a foot long and an inch or »o thick, which she uuts into his mouth, chopping Lhem off with a knife when he chokes. In this way h'j is made to swallow six or eight pounds of blubber, which is full of oil and ex- cellent fuel to promote the body heat, until finally he Is thoroughly gorged and sound asleep. At the time ot the gn-at internik- tional Alaskan fair, which is held ev- ery summer on Kotezubue Sound, the Sil.erian Chukchees come u,er to swap reindeer skins for seal oil. Then there tn much trading for v>'ives. A pretty fair wife can be bought for 910 barter. Among the Ksquuuax wives are usually purchased, and sometimes the women are con.sulted in the mak- ing of ljar;jaina. The men frequently exchange wives for a stated period. Occo-sionally ihey rent them out. Among the most highly prized objects of bijouterie are glass cruet stoppers and stoppers of Worcestershire sauce l)ottles which are used for Esquimau lielles for lahrets, inserted in a hole in the lower lip. The Esquimaux of Labrador have a peculiar way of treating old women. The latter, if too feeble, to lie longer u-seful. are puriioeely neglected until they are .10 weak from hunger as to lie unable to walk. Then the tribe â€" by habit more or less nomadicâ€" is .seiz- ed with a sudden desiro to move on, and the luckless woman is de.serted. Very likely, after they have gone some distance three or four ot the men will retrace their steps on pretense of look- ing for a lost ammunition Ijag or some other article, and, if their track he fol- lowed the corpse of the oldi woman will he found hound with thongs accord- ing to the customary method of dis- posing of the dead, and covered with a pile of stones. Women who are deemed unlucky or who happen to be disliked s^re driven from the camp â€" a fate assuring death trom cold and hunger. It is a common thing among these Labrador Esquimaux for the men to put up their wives as stakes In gambliq^{_ games. Jump if you please, from the north- ern to the southern end of the Am- erican continent, and you will find the women having equally hard tlmea in other ways. Among the natives of Terra del Fnego, who occupy a region where the oold is as severe as In the country of the Esquimaux and food is much more scarce, the gentler sex Is expected to contribute to the food supply in seasons of famine. When reduced to stirvation point these sav- aegs kill the old women and eat them. fJ^MPATHY. Sympathy is, a form of Christian ser- vice. It is not a favor granted by one and received by another ; it Is that ac- tion by which one life enters into an- other's life, takes up a portion of the burden, shares the joy of success, be- oojiies for the time being a part of that life. 11 nd contributes to it some of its own strength. It does not weaken the individuality ot the life it heli>9, it rath- er strengthens it It does not lessen ita re8i>onftillilities, dt helps to bear them; by relieving the tension it gives opportunity for development, by com- panionship gives new courage and fresh ability for advance when the as- sisting presence is withdrawn. THOSE NEIGHBOR CHILDREN. Fond Motherâ€" I have called Johnny a dozen times to come in and go on an errand, but he won't come. He ia out there playing with one ot the neight- bor's children. Caller, meaninglyâ€" Heâ€" won't come? I<'ron<l Motherâ€" No. Tho,'>e neighbor children ought to have moi* respect tor my feelings than to go on playing with him after he has lieen called, an<l I shall send them home this instant. I 'il iJ U ''