The Wedding Eve ; Or, Married to a Fairy. CHAPTKR XX VIII. -(Continued). I broke Into my capftal and paid off very farthing. I sold my ya<-ht. my houo. mv turniture. and dieni!-i;e to aervuntB with want** instead of notice. Hot a soul would I see. and 1 felt deeply grate- ful to ModKc for leaving me alone in iny bitter diKra<-e and *haiuu. All the world of artists and iouriialUstn were babbling over the smash-up at Adrian Hervey V. HUi pretty little wife ha ruined him, and bolted abroad with some other tellow. No doubt our wretched story formed tho ba*L'i of wome Jiiichlv aiuii-nig and uiivera- I-K..I- club-iitorioa. But 1 hoard none of tht^- things. for I admitted no human beme into my urceenoo but my man of biu.ui. - and Wri'iic-haw. and neither of them ever mentioned my wife's name. All throueh thia timo of teueion, of inelits. of heartache, and fuel- . ing. of da.v of vain looking and bitter re- ertt. of drudgery over figures and ao- counu and cruel humiliation, the refra.ui of a Eong beat through my throbbing bead: Mv heart, in need of nvt. No longer hopiw nor gathers; Without will, without power. Farther to go or By; Take me home to thy breoet, Oh. valley of my fathera, l->>r one hour of repose Before lonely I die." When all wa over, and with honor tar- nifched and name disgraced, crippled in fortune and stricken in heart, 1 found my- hv.lt alone with WreniUiaw, I turned to the faithful old servant and told him my l>la>m. "I mutt U.IM London and all the*c poo- Die." 1 *aid, 'and go nomewhere where no one kiifiwri me. or 1 fchnll go mad. 1 can't paint it may be that 1 *hull never paint gain. My day it> over. But if you'll havu lli' p.itii'N.'.t to put u with me, 1 know a lonely old houe half-way up a hill that rw-"* from the marnhee which stretch to the -ea. There, you and I, Wrenshaw, can Jivo in quiet for a time at least, until tho wouml are a little lew raw. Will >->u comer" Anywhere with you. tir." And KI. on a bleak November day, Wrenchaw and 1 Ixvamo inmaUw of thi> >ld Y reiu-h Hoiir-o at Lythinge. on the tteep tjloiiing moorland above tho man-.heu and the K-.I death, I felt her quiver in my arme, and i aw her eyes open and flx t.hemnelvea upon mv face, vacantly at first, but presently with the saddest little half smile of re- cognition flickering in them. "I know you would be here at the French HoiiKe." she whimpered feebly. "And I knew you would be kind t.i me. whatever anybody Hiiid. And I wouldn t have bother.-d you. Dicky dear, but 1 ve coiue home to d'e." "It la nobody you know or ever heard of!" ehe protested again and again. "He wn an air at Bristol, and saw me out walking with, the school. Ho .- wonder- fully clever, but he doesn't liku working. And he's very well-lucated. and was al- ways telling me how ignorant I was. And sometimes, when he'd been drinking a little too much, ho would strike me and even knock me down. But I loved him al- ways. even ufu-r.I saw he got tired of me And." she murmured with a little sob, "I love him now!" Slic> stareo! into the. fire and was < 'lent. I liad passed beyond ue!f-ufferlnK in the intensity of my pity for her. Otherwise. it would have cut me to the lu-.irt th:vt now. ce she lay dving. all h'i' thoughts. all her regre-trt, were for the cowardly and contemptible ruffian who had brutally ill- treated her and had tiold her to another tnan. "I couldn't bear marrying you," eha went on, ml li-nly rouiiiiiK herself. "You know 1 couldu t. I begged and prayed h m to let mu oil. and ran away to London, as you know. And Mro, Morland thought it wan dreadful, even thousih he said our marriage wa not real one. Afterward. I wa always teasing him to taku ine back, for, although you were o kind to me, I felt ho wan iny husband, uiul not you. But h would hurdly ever ee me, and alwaya wanted money, money, "nothing liut money. I heard that lie had fallen one eltie. ami was go- Thou at loot love with to marry her. And 1 felt quite inad- like, and that I inn.-! go back lo aim. CHAPTKR XXX. "I can't die yet. I have eo much to tell you." Lilith said this as she lay that night propped up by pillows on the couch by tho ^ * r IllM', nllu I Jla I t. nil A doctor had been sent for from (ran- w j, nteTCr hauuened ling -for I could not l>ear that the wiee old doctor from Handhythe should see tho "ho I left you and went to him. But he 1 ' would not ee me. And tho woman ho was with took away iny jewels and money, which 1 offered her to get to sect him. and laughed at me. and told me that now I had left you und could send no more money, ho hated me ag much an he loVed her. And then 1 got very, very ill. And they sent me back te London. And I tried tragedy ho had sought to avert- and had pronounced tho patient to lie dying from the result* of overstrain, shock, and ex- posure acting on : delicate constitution. Heart and nerve*, had broke'i down, the lungs were seriously affected, and the doc- tor held out no hope oj' recovery. I -wanted no second physician's opinion. Death was written in Lilith's face, in her hollow cy3 and sunken mouth, in the yel- lowish, waxen tint of her skin, and the terrible emaciation of her form. "I haven't had enough to eat just late- ly, and I have been so cold sometimes without a flre." ehe said. "I haven't had vou to look after me. D.cky. But it has- n't been the cold or hunger, though they were and she nre*i . _ . against her heart "that's where the ach- ing has been. me. Oh. 1 know I am dying I knew it two days ago. and I w-is dreadfully fright- ened at first. And then I thought if I ed from her eyea, but a lovely light wae shining in them. "Why, you will be marrying an old maid," ehe cried, "who waited until ehe was nearly thirty because nhe could not got the man she wanted, tho man she had waited for and loved for fifteen yearvi. Oh, Adrian, my love, haven't I been a failure, too?" TUB END. DAMEL GUGUEMIKIM. A Ilusinras Moil Says Hit Word Is Hotter Than Hi* Hm.il. Daniel Guggenheim, the head of the great American exploration and development organization, whose operations stretch from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from Alas- ka to Chili, ad into tho heart of the African Congo, is a man with a kindl v smile and gentle manner who deals with millions a most men venture with dollars. The story of the Guggenheim family has been told elsewhere, and it reads like one of the fancies of the Arabian Nights. Daniel Guggenheim, for all his kindly, human dem-e-anor, for all his courtesy and gentleness, is a strong man. Much of his power lies in his vivid imagination and in his broad sympathy for humanity. He is the type that will lead men, but never drive them. There is no trouble with-labor in any Gusrgenheim-'pro- Jiuuei- was < ! u. Aim 1 w*rnt uuvn i* n* . ** 7^ 'O r old cheap iodfcinga he and 1 used to have, Jiert.V in any portion of the Jaild. and uerMiaded the landlady to take me kind, an gave, a little food now and then. And landlady to take me Daniel fimrirpnhpim in. I think ehe meant to be kind, and ehe , "? y l 'K.S enrielr n . . . I ine business ethics are those of lived hi a room by myeif until 1 felt sur the community in which the business 1 wan dvinic. Then suddenly j thought ,, , * _, of what vou eaid one day that if a man exists, he says. J he stream rises WMI IIIU Cum UI Mill ^ . ll-'ii^u nn.-j I 01 WHUl .VUU r I 111 1C UJ "i ! 1 1 ,, hard enough to bear it's been here." wanted to hide from Uie -world, he would I no higher than Its source unless it she D re*M.>d her thin little hands come to the French House at LyUiinge. So j a ( orc ^d higher <\Tnerican business 1 came here. But I dred not knock at 1 s or< nigner. .vmencan ousines, ar ta were e ac- . and that'* what ha killed i tho door leet you might be too angry. And j is far better than it '.v.-isa few 1 wa weak and 'faint and so tired, and I crew sleepy with cold outside your door. Then at lat you found mv in the morn could only come to you, and beg your ing. Hut it wag nilly of ine not to knock, iiardon. aiid get you to forgive me. I might | for I might have, known you would be room f r now on in my arnw at daybreak, fall- net forgiven .somewhere else." kind.' Her head fell back on mv arm, and ehe she died stared for a moment wistfully into Uie Ore. "You must not talk of forgivciiew." I | cd me. and who Jiaii whispered; "I have nothing but love for i wife, vou in my reart -there, is no room there d ^ h d lh d^ r n donV'7ry f t' i ,c.i ?:SM TI* au my *< i " ** w - r!d wuh ter ago, and yet there improvement. It is plane where individual greed is the some actuating factor." This is what happened in the Gug- C'll AFTER XXIX. All through that bitter winter Wren- fchaw and 1 liv.xl our hermit life under the VM>.I red-tiled roof, colored gold with lich- en, and hung about with ivy. of the old house above the marshes. About our little gaidcn enclosure, wall- ixl in by fragments of what wa once a Roman stronghold, the Kentioli theep Btrav.xl, bleating ill tlio driving snow, and huddled together for warmth aicuinfit* tho inn,--. \<- fragmente of Uie ancient stone- work. Down below u* in the martth villages, light* iwinkli'd out at night, and high bovc. on tin' crcni of UIB cliff, the win- down of tho btiuare-towered church gleam- ed r. d on Sunday evening . Our supplies of food weie brought by hand, for there w no road across the strip of rugged moorland (o where the ancient, h ill t'.in- bend h..iir stood in complete not Undo. and far from any other dwellinc-place. 1 hud t.ike^i the houi-e lor a year at an ex- c<l i nirlv low rental, as the owner w:ts on.v t"o glad to have it occupied at any timo ..( the v.'ar but the rummer. All day long, whatever the weather might he. 1 took long walks by the sea. I c.nild not paint. The light w.i . bad through :ui exceptionally severe winter. But had !he t-kios been axuro, and Uie Min- t-Inn tbat ,,f Italy, it would havo been the bame I c.juM n.it naint. I hud lost all iiicrni.yc to work. Money watt of no value :.. mi-, and an for fame the t-ooiier my n;<ui.- wa- forgotten Uie better 1 tthould IM- |il. .1 .1 The !!< -e and I'rown" had changed Ji.iri.!-. the Noketjtv* having failed to make it nay. I'oiiM'Miiriitlv I ran no rik of inert ing any one who would recognize mo und remember Lihth. 1 took tbo hour... in the name of "Mr. Wrenshaw," and, apart from th> nrc<'aution. it M improli.ilile thai any one would have known me, for, during thi> days that e!appe/l after 1 llrnt learned that Lilith had left me, my hair had grown as gray an that of a man of tifiv In !ln' evening, I would conic in "dog- in. I and would hit in front of the wide, >ui t i -M i.iii.'d lircplace. watching the burn- ing log. und brooding over my lost 1..I uli. who had viuiiohed In. in my life liko the marph fairy 1 had called her. He ni.c-- have come back to me that u all 1 want to know." She nut up her band to my face, and stroked it with a little car. -.-mi: gesture I remembered well remembered with a Ptah of infinite pain. "It is very good of you, Dicky, to be KO nice to me and to ask no iiueetioiiH. But I :nn t tell you *onio things. BO that you may understand." Her voice wae very thin and weak. Cou- rt airily I had to make her -top in her rapid, whispering talk to take Home re- i torative. and to softly *ipo her damp forehead and to lift from off it the elm- lering hair which looked, in it- gl<**-y abundance, puthutically full of life and vigor agaiiml her wanted cheeks. "I know I havo been very wicked." hu l>cgan aguin after a P..II-". "and I have treated vou dreadfully. But i^oiiiehow thing* have been all wrong from the be- ginning. When vou determined to make a ladv of me. and vent me to Morland Hoiu-c. I wa miserable. You sec. the girl: quizzed me and glared at mo. and I wa- n't u*ed to their line-lady way*. And I couldn't hear being -ii::t in and kept a prisoner. And then I war* very, very fond of you; you don't unite know how fond I wax. I think. I: would have been all right and I'd have been duito gi>od, if you d uro ini.-i'd to marry me when I < .tmu out of t-'hixi!. Hut whon 1 knew you were going t.> marry l.i.lv Madge. I felt wirt of <!<- fperalc lo think I'd have to nut uu with two vean of that school, and then perhaps c-tid in being .i nur-eiiKtid or a govenuv. . after all. And then I met him!' She paiiKcd ami turned her eyes from i me to the lire again slowly a,- r-li llv fell in love with me ao soon ns be naw me. he *aid. Not in your romantic, adoring way. but in the way girlj like me like. He'd make me clip out and meet linn and he'd xnatch me up in his arum and K..-i mu HO that Jit; hurt me, and swear and go on. raying he'd kill hunnelf or mo if 1 didn't run away with him. And and 1 wax dull and nn Table and you never c:im and three monilii after I'd gone to Morland lion e 1 Mole oft and married him." 'Vou married him!" "Yea. 1 have mv linet I have never parted from them. Often, after I w;m ing asleep with a little BilcJi 1 ke a child g en heim offices when Tebate-S of tired out thuj woman who had never lov- f . , , /v never even bcu my freight charges became abhorrent and were declared illegal. The first , blow was struck by the Interstate my hones In inn- world vnm cer in tJie churchyard on the c!ill over the ( ~ ML i-'i,-. .iiityt where ttlie had told me tdie wanted to lie. yeare ago. In her purm we found u uMlcd envelop** in whh-h .. -io the eertilicale of inairia^e betwien "LUith Saxon, aged xiiteeu, and .Ni<-liolas Wruy, agwl thirtv-five." "Every I u.ii. t knowx that uvinK a ' man's life w tho best way to turn him into a dangerous enemy." W ray's words, uttered on the day when , I came between hiai and plarvation or 1 cuicide. ranir in my eart during the jour- Jy.V ]MHRjSr> "^^"if' v ^^t H I nejr I undertook, intul upon uking the 1 "- flB*i-*.- ^4^^ .--. . 1Jt rts en i life 1 had 6uved. Killing him waif too good for him. but he had murdered Lilith, und 1 could not ; let him live. In Venice 1 met the man faco to face a-t last. In the vaet dining-hall of a dilupi- | rial. -.1 palace, he and Hi black-haired wo- j man were preaUting at a boisteroiu -u;i- , I per-partv. llandsome. I. >.-<: mi.-d women. I -:llv youtliB. and older men with ainuiter i.i. ... drank and eang and itliouted and I in the inidnt of them Wray lifted hi cyee ' and aw me in the doorway, waiting for him. 1 war, clad to take him Unix, while ha ! was enioyinK life after his fashion, and : I wailed quietly while, with hi., old trick < of potting, he drew In. i ill llgure to iu< ; full height and drank to my health, "the ' health of an old friend I have been ex- pecting for .-mi.- time." before excusing himtielf to hit* guetttd and .joining uie lit i the door. Not a word did wo exchange until I had i followed him into hin room on th' Uoor bovc. and locked the door that wu i the nre again. A faint blush crept l >" " <TUr " from '""'rruption. V over her pale cheek*, and deepened I Then J t<K>k " < " MO <>f I"-'" 1 " from the e went on ^peaking: | Docket of my overcoat, and lanl them on the table. I know everything." I miid. "For your initiriei against me I do not care. You arc Biich a pitiful hound as to lie bi-neatli mv personal vengeance. but f.ir the III* On the Farm ij Daniel Guggenheim, Commission of that time. Rebates became anathema. Daniel Guggen- heim ordered that every effort should be made to carry out the famoiiH wiekediicw of your treatment <J ' spirit of the thing. There- must be your door, I Lilith, wlion;- Mill kill vou death luw at if I can." no single rebate. Then he found that interstate rebating had stop- ped, but that within the State is 1'uii are ritfht from your point of view." h . i,d. flngfring tho n .' . "and aa I don't mean to kill you, you will probably ; - kill me. You have always liad the devil's I continued ; he found that he was own luck! The odd mm of it is, Uiouirh taking rebates in Colorado of $1.50 I envy vou. 1 can t dislike you. 1 am near. Iv lortr old before my time, und heartily with you. Id take thein out on th? lv " '' k "' everything vou have tuken caxe and look at them, and tell myoelf 1 be- of v "ur.-elf and been a good boy; yet you longed really to him, only he didn t want me any more. And Ulen I'd <T'y my cyw a ton on ore shipments. "See the railroads and insist on llr^houK'h 1 .rU^ iS'/ifK ?," ^ q **," he said to his repre- .ml nearly, and vou would Und me iin.1 Wrcn-haw .nloy.-d the i-.il ' ilde _ ...,., tm-te<l lun own t<ei. and h U.K! nearly all wom l.-r K |, :11 |,.id uwet me. and be very wouieii. Udg wa hw one^euk (pot. *n4 I |i,,,d. and make mr forget him. And he did love me iu*l at drat, and he hated you n.< .in . I wax BO fond of you, and would tell me how well you were ciijoying yourself among your grand relations, and making Ladv .Margaret ,'angh at me. Ho wa.i t-o band <mif and so masterful and he hiiid if 1 didn't go away with him. you woulfl get murrii-d and get tired of keep- ing me. and 1 should have to becoino a di8cover<xl that he occasionally wi"t.' tu ber. About mo. of <*ourne. Hho had bad too much d<'lic:i.-y to write to ma direct, but I knew that Jus would xym- i.nUnr.e Only I did not want to hear of her Fymputhy. I wantexl to wear my sor- row alone. Winter broke at lagt into a Ht.irmy curing, and a furioiix March caino in. . .< 'i:i.-i in driving mow. One bitterly cold day 1 had rtpent p.'.irchniK with the fehciih* rd- for I- ;-t lamb.- among the fliiow, and had come home late, tired out and iiumli with cirld. to eat a little food, and then -.it and doze and dream before tho lire Wrciifihav. had gone to Ixvl he kept mill- larv hoiiiw but lute into the niBht I oat. tempted by Uie warmth and too drowwy ..! ' : a long and fatiguing day in the bit- ing cold to i..;,.-" myself and go to bed. In tin- comatose ,-taii. into winch I had lallcn. I Jived again through the KCCII.V. I had Uiat day witiKtwexl. and ear< lied again with the tthepherds by murky day- light under u leaden nky. and afterward - bv lamplight, which cast a red .-tarn over the gleaming now. fur tin- mitring (-li.'i'p, beneath the feathery downfall that prick- ed our faces. But in my ..mliin-d fanciw it seemed to me that it i - Lilith for whom ... weri> M. N.III:. and an agonv <if auprehonHion !>..-.- >.'d mo '(" I beheld Mir >|.'.-|, dllfts bv 1he ^vaywide. The night won- <m and wtill the name tdc.-i^ niiivucd me. I.ilith wa l<,t Lil- itli wu:' .ailing inc. Tho hallucination grew BO '..me that I ecmcd actually to bear her plaintive voice above the snow and fleet on the window-panel): Dick! Dick!" Once 1 even .-.prang up in my chair, and threw open the lattice-pancd window. A rut.li of HiiowHakct< was driven into the room, and the cold air tiremod to clear my brain and convince me of my folly. Never before had I i-o strongly realized my utter loneliiH. My very tout Befiued to cry out for mv wife In torglrtnim and in pity for with :).. m tuict of love I know that ehe was in trouble, and that she needed mv help. In the irorniiig tn I decided. I oiil<l go buck to town, nnd leave no ftono unturn- ed to find her. So long an he waa happy with the man tli.- had preferred to me, eo long would he forget iny very exist- ence. But should sorrow or ill-he.ill.h c..mc uii'.n her. 1 felt, sure sho would creep at I.vthinrfe marly four year? . J)Ut jn (ho nu.riiing it w:, s I.iljth who came to nic. I found tier lying huddled within the porch over mv door-Rtep, like the loyt lambe on tho hilkido, half dead with cold and exposure, wrapped In a P00)en nbavl, with icicles in her yellow hair. Mt liear' ivlmosl n*appej in two with, pit* UN I lifted her and carried her Into the warm dining-room, and wound hot PMOketl .ibout her froirn linibt. and kiis- ed Tier poor blue HIM. and chafed her stif- fened llngere. Wrenvhaw helped me loyal >v wilhout a word, and I believe he a olmos't ; , glad a I when, after hours of car' titi vaulting and fighting with tentative. Two weeks la,ter his ic^'re ' ' /ra c department reported that llie hand- road refused to make an equal rate. The rate from mine to smelter must lilt-. 'M I. II II. .'MII1I--..1 I. IV-. IIKI' 1,111111 . rfv n rp , , "It you speuk her name I will about you ' remain t 9d a ton. lo change It ' would breed trouble. "It costs Jess to haul a ton of ore than a ton of general merchandise," averred the roads. "We have to $3, but there is profit in ore at $1.50. Be- wa married to hiia in Al. Peter ' ("hurci! > W ' RI " 1 took thut " lrl you didn't wiiit her! i <les ^e people expect to be charg- at Ifrwtol. And at llrst I \v;m very happy ' llnd !jle wllt) "liiwrable where ln. wae. Ily | ed 83 " Afterward, when you got rich, and h,i ] tho time I had got tired of her you wea-e , .,,- . ,,, , . wanted to get rid of mo and lo get hold i IMLI<1 al)out '"' r . alld a "*' r a " V<ni married I * an c ^ en rate or we 11 Atlopt tho woman you wanted, which ie some- other measures," replied Daniel thing burely. Once you had got her, 1 never encouraged her to comu alter me. ticrvant after all. I wan iilr.ud of him at firat. but then then 1 got to love him, and one inoriiiiiT I ran away from ti-hnol ami irc-rbread for you too. But wo are both not worth it. Harpies or Home tiger-cat*, like that wonu.ii down .i mi-, or l:ti l.> (OnUM! toys, like Lilith "11 V before you can defend vouree He xhrngged lu bouldor!<. "Aa you pleure. Life ha no more charm for me. A-. HM artist, I have lo>t all m- -niriition, and now that fund.) are no long- er coming in, the g.ime inn't >v. .ch vlay- ' ing. Hut wiii-ther you nhoot .nu or not. I charge the merchandise muni remind you that I warned you from ! the biginiiinir what the end would be. of your money thruuifh me, ho swore it wann't a real marriage, and that he had a wife already. I don't know if that's true. After he and I were married, he went and aw 11. Morland, and she was dreadfully angry at tlr>t, until they ar- ranged between them that while lie and 1 lived together about tho country, you should be deceived, no that you might wend tho monev for mv education all tliu .<ame. Mm. Morland had half, and wo had the other hundred. She. wu dreadfully in debt, and we had no money at all but what 1 made bv dancing." "By dancing?" "Oh. ye! I worked awfully hard, and for three months we. joined u littln fit-up theatrical company of isingers anil danc- ers. And in Lynihurst, at a ball where I wae dancing. Ijadv Margaret mw mo and told mo atterwiird how beautiful I danced. And fli>: saw my husband, too." "Your liiiHliand!" "Yes, yc!" tjhe anawered fretfully, turn- her head from eide to side. "Lady Mar- garut'd got fetich , lurp eyes, and Bho caught a i.-: mi i. of him Bomehow. Sho knew uie again in u uiiiiut when nho < ame to sec us in KeningU>n. I can't un- dcr.-land why be didn't let on to you but I HUDpodO -lie thought I wasn't really married before, and that what was done couldn't hit undone. Oh. Dicky, why did- n't you marry her and avo all this dread- ful worry?" "Don't tell me any more!" I groaned. "You are hicaking mv heart, Lilith. How could I know? Why did you not. tell me. tho truth? You loved mo a a child, and I thought you iiuist grow to love mu again." She tOinoli her head. Not, us you want me to." the gaid. "If you hud been the first but by tho time I e was taking thut type of girl linten while you insult tho "I will count up to BIX and Guggenheim. I have the facts. If , hud been t you MUlinJJtftt, day in. Jteaeiit. Street. fcM 5f p* si, Fonu of Infl *M so h* fcM afraid o if him I had no feeling loft for any ono lie. Wo were dreadfully poor then I had buen dancing at a hall .just oii|yid<' London, und I hud lome up to try and get a West End onirigoinmit. TV-it night, uf. ter you'd left me ut Mrs. .lae.kaonx, I crept out lo let him know what had hap- I'licd " "You told tr.e vou drove to the stiiilio-" "lli Btudlo," she whisperer; "one u 'iend linfl '5'i^ 4V-'^^- '.^'^ n n^ tyifl Tno I iiglit go ofit with you ',[ f orought him thirty tKnind tlio "rfexi" duy "What an infernal villain! Lilith, you unftt toll me hiH name." 8ho at up on the couch and clung U> me. coughing and crying. , nil one to me what they called it. for I had rebuting is wrong between States it is wrong in States. Our smelters are not anchored in one spot for eternity. They are movable." The rate changed without great delay. "Perhaps such wrongful practices as brought the muck rake- into bur national life were phases of our commercial development," says Mr. 'I don't know. If then ! they were phases they were assured- ies and we want no more of them. ' And then was broached the The mistake seriously." "I will not dead," I aid. then flre." "As you please!" lint on Uie third count Wray turned hia pi.-Uol ugainM liiiuNi'ir, and KO saved uie the tank of ridding the world of u villain. All this happened nearly two yours ago, and tho ' lonsr. long gras to keep ono warm in winter anil cool in summer" ie waving over Lilith 'H grave in Lythingo churchyard. For llfteen loniillM I watched the chang- riinrirpnheini ing seasons over the murj-ln, hugging my i VI "^B I NO r row and living upon memoriiw. Then 1 fell unaccountably ill. and the wise- | )y had ones and we want no more of acres of Lythinge said it wan innj-Oi-lever and ague, the two local maladies it waa no wish to live. But Wreii-thaw. whrae devotion was only gll'SUon. equaled by his olwtiirtey. telegr:iphe<l to town ono dnv. iniknowii to me, and that Mime, night I was carried off, willy-nilly. ucroxH the patcji of inoorlund to n car- riage waitinir in the cart-track, and so turned by buck upon the French HoU:-o and its memories forover. At the coaching inn by the crossroads, when' 1 had stayed on my l!rnt viHit to L/vUllnge, Madge had left her motluir and suite itiHtalled, tho Diamond Queen, in the worst of temiMTB. audibly wondering what her daughter could see in "that lantern- lawed coiiHin of hi' re." and why he "couldn't be left to die if he wauled to"? She wonders thus still, and indeed I won- der too. I wonder at Madge's tenderneBe, her tact, her infinite patience, and I \voii- der inotft of nil at my own cold-hearted- npie. nnd at the iomnot from my heart of IMF truoa yf *ll (1 paesimuite devotion such a woman deserves. She urnrn me to naint, and takes her . ild iiiiere-it in my wcirki \)\\\ Uly hand scorns to .havct lost its running. Only to-day I owned us much to her. "I am H failure dear." I aid, ",i gray- haired failure; Von were alwayw impa- tient o[ fnilurm. Ycnni ago, you urged mef (o make a k a I left to oiler you. Bhc slipped down on her knoos hrxide me matter of government or public re- name that you might he mown a a (rreat artiet'a wife, and not 1 is 'the rich Lady Margaret's husband ' \ irokon career, n broken life, \g M, i havo v.-hero 1 sat at my easel, and her , hu<ls upon my shoulclcrw. 'rears gtream- . "Inevitable, and justly so," says he. "And why should anyone ob- ject if the work is properly done?" A niR.ii of affairs of very big af fairs said some time ago in reply to a question : "Dan Guggenheim? I'd sooner have his word than his bond. I might lose the bond, but I couldn't lose my knowledge of the man's high character." ____ . _ _iji __ ___ . Taking no Chnncrs. "D.o you know his wife well?" "Not at all." "Would you like to be introduc- ed to her?" "I don't think it would be safe. I'm the friend he always blames for keeping him out late." The Retort Unexpected ''You looked very foolish when you pro- posed to me," said the wife. "Well, Henrietta," replied the ni"ek hus- band, "maybe I was." Profit in Good Draft Horses. It costs but ve-y little more to raise good draft 'hqrses than t/he ordinary scrub and the drafter will sell for three or four times the sum. A well-bred draft horse is almost as good as cash in the bank, because he sells on sight and brings a good price. A farmer who breeds good drafters, using first-class stallions, can in a few years make a reputa- tion which will add from ten to 25 per cent, to the price of his animals over the prices of others equally good bred by men without reputa- tion. There is always good money to be made in raising horses of this class, although many farmers seem to think that it does not pay. Most of them are right about this as far as their own experiences go because they do not raise the right kind. It is true that horses of a nonde- script character, lacking proper form, weight or style for any par- ticular purpose, never bring high prices and are, therefore, not pro- fitable to raise. The average farm- er has no business to attempt to raise fancy carriage or saddle horses because they require special knowledge of breeding and training and are profitable only to men who thoroughly understand the business of preparing them for market. The draft horse, however, is the animal that does the hard work not only on the farm, but in the big cities and he is always in demand. The reason there have been eo few good drafters raised in the last few years is because too many farm- ers took up trying to produce road- sters by breeding their mares to light' stallions and as most of them were not willing to pay for the ser- vice of a first-class animal, the re- sult is that the country is filled with second and third-rate horses of no particular use and v.hich bring low prices. It is gratifying to note, however, that farmers are coming to their senses and are now breeding more drafters than ever before. Using stallions on mares of the same type with proper weight, he can produce a type of animal that will turn out a profit at three years. Draft mares will do practically as much work on the farm as horses and mares will prove the best breeders. liivo the Trees Room. The i|iiestion of how much space to leave between the trees is one that occasions much argument. This should be regarded largely by circumstances. If trees are to be kept well pruned back they may be as near as four yards apart, while those which are to be allowed more free growth in the tops should be at least twenty feet apart. The question of distance depends en- tirely upon the system of training and richness of the soil. The common system of keeping the orchard in sod practiced by many apple growers, and except in very rare cases, among -small grow- ers, is practically unknown. Thor- ough cultivation is necessary to develo*- the peach crop as the tree during the time of bearing requires extremely large amounts of mois- ture arid plant food. GrowerR differ widely upon the system of cultivation, but all are agreed that plowing as early as pos- sible in the spring, thorough culti- vation during the first half of the summer season and the growth of a cover crop of some kind during the fall and winter are essential to the proper care of the peach or- chard. The disc or spading harrow is bet- ter than the plow in most cases, as the side extensions enable much closer work without injuring the trees. In the case of gravelly or hard, heavy soil the disc or spring- tooth harrow is necessary during summer cultivation, while the light smoothing harrow is required on soils that are in a fine state of tilth. Making Split-Log Drag. The halves of the drag should be framed together by wooden braces so that the split surfaces of the log shall be in front. The face of the drag should lie at an angle of 45 degrees with the lines of the road, thus drawing the earth toward the centre. The rear log should follow ;n the track of the first. Drags should be used after rains, or con- tinued wet weather to smooth the earth's surface and prevent ruts from forming to hold water. The drag not only smooths the road, but crowns it and puddles the mud so that it is hard when dry. These drags have been used with great success on clay or water- holding soils. Many stretches of black gumbo roads in the west are maintained by the use of this imple- ment alone. Every farmer should own one, and after a rain he should spend a few hours on the road adjacent to his farm. If there are many de- pressions to fill, the drag should be used when the road is wet. After it has been used long enough to make the road fairly smooth, the drag gives the best re- sults if used when the earth begins to dry. 8,000 AT WEDDING FEAST. Festivities Extend Over Eight Days On Big Scale. A wedding whose guests number- ed over 8,000 persons and whose feasting continued for eight days was celebrated recently at Sada- gora in Bukowana, one of those remote country districts of Austria- Hungary, where mammoth wedding festivities on a scale unknown in America or Western Europe are the rule. The affair at Sadagora exceeded in magnificence and lavish hospital- ity any function on record in that district, however. It was a Hebrew wedding. Sadagora enjoys a cer- tain fame in Eastern Europe as the seat of the renowned Babbinical dynasty known as the Miracle Rab- bis. The bride was the daughter of the Grand Rabbi of this line, Aron Friedman, and the groom. Sala- mon Friedman, belongs to a branch of the same Rabbinical dynasty at Czortkow. The marriage was ar- ranged by the chiefs of the two families, entirely without the know- ledge of the young people. In fact they met for the first time only the evening before the wedding at A preliminary feast, when they danc- ed together as a sign of their wil- lingness to marry. The chiefs had taken it for grant- cr that there would be no hitch in their plans, and had invited the Rabbinical families of all the Or- thodox Jews in Russia, Poland, Roumania, and Hungary. They came down on Sadagora in thou- sands. Many of imposing stature and patriarchial dignity. They wore black silk caftans, low shoes and white, stockings, while their ladies were attired in a sort of crin- oline and adorned with rich jewels. There were some dressed in the latest modes of Paris and Vienna. The ceremony took place in the gardens of the Grand Rabbi's pal- ace, guarded by mounted troops. Thousands were unable to hear or see what was going on, so deuse was the throng, but all had a hand in the feasting which followed. Dur- ing the eight days the commissary's books accounted for 200 pounds of fish, 500 head of poultry, 250 pounds of beef, 5,000 pounds of bread and many casks of wine. The Grand Rabbi was out of pocket to the ex- tent of at least $40,000. In addition to this he presented the bridal couple with a palace in Sadagora, completely furnished and equipped with a staff of servants. He will meet the entire cost of the household for a period of six years, when it is assumed that the young bridegroom will have attained a position where he can support his family himself. * Remorse is memorv that has smir- ed. Extra Granulated Sugar is put up at the Refinery in When you buy <$^#$ Extra Granulated Sugar in any of these original packages you are sure of getting the genuine c^^f, Canada's finest sugar, pure and clean as when it left the Refinery. It's worth while to insist on the Original Packages. 10 Pound, 20 Pound, 50 Pound and 100 Pound Cloth Bags, and in 2 Pound and 5 Pound Sealed Cartons CANADA SUGAR REFINING CO, LIMITED, 80 MONfftF.M.