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In Peace and War Or, The End of It All CHAPTER XV. The soiree of the Ancient Art Guild was in tho full flow of its cess. There had been some excellent music, and the programme promised more. The brilliancy of the attendance was equal to tho highest hopes of the most ambitious c mittec. William Hicks was not the committee of the Ancient Artists, but he moved about from group to group, dispensed ices, and exchanged artistic jargon with a greater grace than was at the command of that entire august body. Chiefly was his devotion laid at Brenda's feet. She was miserably anxious, but she hid it from him; and he talked on, quite ignorant of the fact that she was in no manner heeding his words. Her quick, acquired Soon a stout lady, suddenly raised an exquisite voice, and a complete silence acknowledged -ts power instantaneously. It was a quaint old song, with words that might have had no meaning whatever, beyond trite regrets for days that could never come again, had they been sung t less feeling -- less true human syn athy. 'ainly round her and think cynical thoughts about the hollow shams of society, but some specially deep and tender note would heart, despite the wall of worldiness that she had built around it. Looking round the room with a semi-interested little smile, suddenly her face grew white, her breath' seemed to catch, and for some seconds there was no motion of her throat bosom. Respiration seemed to arrested. With an effort she rec •cred herself, and a great sigh of lief filled her breast. Across that vast room Trist's eyes met iirenda's, and although ■calm face changed in no way, trayed by no slightest tremor that he had come with the wild hop( meeting her, his lips moved. "Thank God, I have done it! •muttered, beneath the whirl of lite applause that greeted the ; lady's elephantine bow. Trist was making his way slowly ^across the room, exchanging greetings here and there. Brenda, in her keen observant way, conceived a sud-f*»n idea that his manner was not tjuite natural. Although of a kindly spirit, Trist was not a genial man with a smile full of affection for the merest acquaint: girl, in some vague way," felt that ho was shaking hands with V Indec™ ° go c t of his "When did 3 do s "This afternoon," he s I this . mouth this morning." The next moment he before her with his bro ed, his hand extended. "You see, Brenda,' have turned up again, .dove without the lea:' i I am an emblem of pea Instinctively, and w ing her motive, she ant she very glad t e yo turned to Hicks, and shook hands with more warmth than that ethereal being had expected. "You see, Hicks," he said. "I can-. not resist flying at once to pay my respects at the shrine of Art -- only arrived in London this afternoon, and hero I am in full war paint, with a flower in my coat and my heart in my eyes. What pictures have I to admire? You may as more confidence, "since that your views respecting Alice have become modified or changed ' way, perhaps?" He moved with so and appeared particularly wishful to avoid encountering her frank gaze. He clasped his two hands around his raised knee, and stared at the carpet with ting silence which was almost Oriental in its density. "Give me," said Brenda, "her address, and I will go to her to-mor- "She is at the Castle Hotel, Burgh Ferry, Suffolk. There is a train from Liverpool Street Station leaving at ten o'clock to-morrow for Burgh Station, which is four miles from Burgh Ferry." "I have heard of the place." said Brio da composedly. "Have you been there and back this evening?" "Yes. I just had time to install Alice comfortably in the hotel, which is really nothing more than an inn. and is the largest house in tho village. I have a list for you--here it ' --of things that Alice would like >u to take to her to-morrow." Brenda took tho paper and glanc- "It is a long one," she said with short, hard laugh. "Is she quite signed to burying herself alive for short time?" "Ye-es. ... I put things rather strongly. She has consented to communicate with her husband through Mrs. Wylie, with the view of coming to some sort of agree- lief. 9 girl drew a sharp breath of r "There . . . were ... a good many tears," added Trist rather unevenly. "I would suggest a good supply of books," he said a moment later in a practical way. "It is a dreadfully dull little place (which makes it safer), and too much thinking is hardly desirable at tho- pres- "It is questionable whether much thinking is profitable at any time." Trist looked at her in doubtful way, and then from his seat. "I will take you home i said, "if you aro ready. 1 ly one o'clock." She rose a little wearily, ing her gloved hand, skirmished deftly over her hair in order sure that it had not become deranged. He noted the curve of white arm, and the quick play her li'igors, while he stood erect motionless, waiting. No passing •gh' ■ some deliberation; "but I want to be prepared for such an emergency." "I am very sorry to hear it." "Why?" "Because you are too young yet. And . . . and, my boy, I don't want to lose the best war corres pondent that ever crossed a saddle.' The object of this honest flattery shrugged his shoulders. "There are plenty more coming The great man shook his head. "Do you mean to tell me," he asked, "that you are going to turn your back upon a splendid career, and take up journalism? Why, my dear fellow, even at my age I would willingly change my chair for your saddle, and men say that I am at the top of the journalistic tree. Come, be candid; why are you giving up active service?" "Because I am wanted at home, and because I must find some means of making a steady income." "Will you take my advice?" asked the elder man humbly. They were like two friendly gladiators, these immovable journalists, each conscious of the strength that lay behind the gentle manner of the other, both anxious to avoid measuring steel. Trist laughed good-humoredly. "I ill i i po of observation. That round white arm was 1 as a beautiful thing, and nothing more. And she was a trifle weary. Her face betrayed no sign of mental or natural anxiety. "I will go home with you," saici Trist, "because some precautions arc neceasary in order to escape observation on your journey to and I have several suggest: As the winter settled over Europe --here with gloom and fog, there with bright keen frosts and dazzling snow--the feeling of anxiety respecting affairs in the East slowly subsided. The general conviction was that Russia would not move against hereditary Moslem enemy he i ; for c hat- -hered by turned to ■arefully remem er. Then Trist i offered her his dy weed though it may s killed by cold. Theodore Trist, fresh from those rysterious Oriental lands which are 3 much more romantic from a dis-mce, gave no opinion upon the latter, because he was a practical usiness man, and fully aware of the market value of his observations. By ten o'clock on the morning following the soiree of the Ancient Artists, he alighted from a hansom cab opposite the hugo office of the jour-1 to which his pen was pledged, few moments later he was shaking hands uneffusively with the editor. This gentleman has been introduced before, and men at his age' change little in appearance or habit. His vast head was roughly picturesque as usual, his speech manly and to the point. "Glad to see you back," he said, in a business-like way. "Sit down. None the worse, I hope?" he added, in a softer tone, and accompanied keen gh of t back with that a which was p rarely met with "When," said Trist in a smooth and even tone, "I got back to town, I figuratively tore my hair, and said to myself; 'Where shall I find Brenda --where shall I find Brenda tonight?" I took a hansom back to my rooms, changed, and then drove to Suffolk Mansions. Mrs. Wylie told me whero you were; I gave chase, and . . . and I caught you." Tho girl turned her face slightly, and her childlike blue eyes sought his with a quaint air of scrutiny. "When," she said, "you left Suffolk Mansions this afternoon with Alice, you had no intention of returning to London to-night." There was no mistaking the deliberation of her assertion. She was defying him -- daring him to deny. Ho met her glance for a moment-- nb longer. "That," he confessed airily, after , ^AncL'", <oi.(iinued the girl. with for the s "Enough," continued Trist grave-y, "to put into something secure, nd ensure a steady income in the uping times of peace." The editor clasped his large hands ravely with fingers interlocked, and laced them on the desk in front ol with raised eye- "But natural," suggested the younger man. "When a man of your age sudden-expresses a desire for something No; that would be asking too much from a man who has made his own way with his own hands. My advico is: do nothing until the necessity arises. At the first rumor of war we will talk this over again. In the meantime, let us wait on events. You will write your leaders as usual, and I suppose you are busy 1th something in book form?" "If," answered Trist, "there is tr in Turkey I will go, because I Id you that I would, but that will be my last campaign." The editor looked at him with kindly scrutiny; then ho scratched "Why?" he asked deliberately, ith a consciousness of cv ceding ie bounds of polite non-interfer- "I cannot tell you--yet." "You know," said this modern ove at length, "as well as I dc that there will be war as soon as the winter is over." In completion of his remark he nodded his vast head sideways, vaguely indicating the East. "Yes," was the meek answer; 'that is so--a war which will begin n a one-sided way, and last longer than we quite expect; but I Both men relapsed into profound meditation. Trist's eyes were fixed on the soft Turkey carpet -- the only suggestion of ease or luxury about tho room. The editor glanced from time to time at his companion' strong face, and occupied himself with making small indentations his blotting-pad with the point blacklead pencil. "Trist," he said at length, "I not do without you in this war "The war has not come yet. Many things may happen before the spring; but I will not play you false. You need never fear that. Then ha like I Hu^wrapped himself up heavily in England. It is only very young and quite inexperienced gather satisfaction from the bravado of wearing no top coat in winter. "Good-bye," ho said; "I must go up to the publishers." "Good-bye," replied the editor heartily; "look in whenever you are passing. I hope to see you one night soon at the Homeless Club; they are going to give you a dinner, I believe." "Yes; I heard something of it. It is very good of them, but embarrassing, and not strictly necessary." Trist passed out of the small room into a long passage, and thence into what was technically railed the shop--a large apartment, across hich stretched a heavily-built deal RAISING CALVES. In raising calves it is very important that they get a good start in life, that they aro liberally fed, and cared for the first year. A" large per cent, of the calves in the country will be raised by hand. The new born calf must have the colostrum milk, either by letting the calf nurse the cow for a short time, or by removing tho calf, and milking the cow, and feeding the call' some of this first milk. The co.osttum or first milk is nature's provision for the young calf, and if possible the calf should have the milk of the dam for a short time. When we are raising the calf by hand we should feed whole milk for three weeks, and then gradually changing to skim allowing about ten days to make the change. As tho fat has been reed from the : a little ground flaxseed may be added in place of the fat. Tho of flaxseed to be given can be best determined by the condition, digestion, and flesh of the calf. The amount of milk to be fed daily will depend very largely on the capacity, and digestion of the calf, but usually SEVEN TO TEN QUARTS per day in two or three feeds. The milk should be fed to the calf at about the temperature of the body. Tho young calf should never get cold milk, or be overfed, as it tends to indigestion and other troubles. When once tho digestion of the calf is deranged the calf will not do well, and store the system to proper work again. As soon as the young calf begins to eat, which is generally when two to three weeks old, it may be fed a little sweet clover hay and i little dlk. aats and bran, and soon they sliced roots. Hay, oats and id roots may form the feed l winter in addition to the i the f phere was warm with the intellectual of I /andered along it of the Strand, ith beggar and AVith ho pockets of hi var correspondent ;he crowded paveme •ubbing shoulders v genius indifferently. pon matters climatic, and so sorbed was he in his thoughts he would have been profoundly prised to learn that a biting wind was withering up huma He looked into tho shops, and pres-itly became really interested in a display of rifles exposed in the unpretending window of a. small establishment. Theodore Trist stood still before the upright burnished barrels which the poet has likened to organ pipes, and to his mind there came the memory of their music, and the roar of traffic round him was almost rged into the grand, deep It i i the i idst of death that men realize fully >f life, and those who have known the delirious joy of battle-- havo once tasted, as it were, ip of life's greatest emotion -- rare that nothing but a battle field can bring that maddening taste to their lips again. The contemplative man breathed harder and deeper as his eyes on lock and barrel, and for time he stood hearing nothing round him, seeing nothing " "Yes," ho r way at length. 5 he turned t go ) the never had," which . Trist meekly. "Which he has neve ed for, it is suggesti --a radical change -- plan of life." Trist raised his square shoulders slightly and respectfully. "Then you contemplate some great change in your plan of life?" "Hardly," returned Tri»t, with lad or wish-of a change that man's (To Be Continued). WHEN TO EXPECT RAIN. When a cat sn Distant sounds, railway whistles, tinct just before r: blind cords becomo and black ire unusually dis-' i; and window taut, and salt lozenges Rain may also be expected dogs grow restless and drewsy; sheep become frisky and bleat terribly at night; the pigs are disturbed and run about; and roosters crow early and flap their wings excessively. The length of time to ieed the calves milk will vary somewhat with conditions and the feed available at the time, but usually they may have milk for four to six months, dropping off the milk gradually when we discontinue using it. In the spring the calves may go out to grass ; but in addition keep up the prain feed. Many good feeders prefer to keep the calves in the barn or stable the first year, and bring the green feed from the field to them, putting them out part of the day for exercise. A good plan is to keep thorn in the stable during the day, and let them out in a good clover . Or grass pasture at night, and in this way they get PLLNTY OF EXERCISE, which ffLyery essential for the yelopmcift of the young calf, and is natural for young animals take a good deal of exercise. When the ba,fn or stable during fly the stable can be darkened, and this they will be annoyed much by the worry and torment from flies. Regularity is a very important factor in feeding the young calf, and when the- milk and feed is given them at a regular time each day, they will soon learn to look for their feed at the proper time. Clean mportant in feeding the young calf. i aim should be to keep them ing every day from birth, and good thrifty and vigorous condition. Calves should make a good rain the first year. Animals na-urally make more gain the first than the second year. Calves should possess the appearance of health and vigor. Calves to make profitable feeders must have a good form, and should be continually filling out and getting thicker. Supply the calves daily with good water md do not forget that they also require salt regularly. When calves of good breeding, are well fed and cared for it is at all times a source of pleasure to see them growing good from week to week. WHAT TO FEED CHICKS. Regularity is quite as important as feed for a time at least. The ens' first meal should bo a break, then a little every three hours till night. They should be kept clean, dry and warm, with fresh water constantly before them. When the chick is 24 hours old it should get its first meal, and hard-boiled eggs, mashed very fine, shell and all, mixed with a like proportion of bread crumbs, should exclusively form its diet for the first three days. For the next few days bread soaked in milk and squeezed dry before feeding can be given a" ternately with the egg diet. At thi time broken oatmeal, cracked wheat and millet seed can be added that gives good satisfaction is prepared from bran, corn meal and middlings, one-third each, add just a little flour, some eggs that won't hatch, yet aro clean, and milk ; mix this into a batter and bake as you would corn bread, then when cold crumble it for the chicks ; it is better than a mash. A little sand or grit of some kind should be provided. If these direc-followed your chicks should the fruit as well. The following tract, from one of the leading horticultural papers of England relates this subject : "I have found that from trees with their roots deep i: the subsoil, even if they fruit freely neither apples or pears satisfy be causo disease spots develop in tin fruit when they are on tie verge of ripening, if not before, rendering them of no value because decay so quickly sets in. To have good fruit, either of apples or pears, the roots of the trees must bo active surface, fibrous ones, otherwise the crop will be much reduced in value. Some sorts are greater offenders than others, it is true, but even the best be readily spoiled if the con-ms are not right. The explanation of this would seem to be that the deep-growing roots carry to the food of an undesirable nature, rendering the tree and its fruit more susceptible to tho attack of fungi presuming the disease spots the er speaks of are of this charac-That there is much of the good or ill doing of trees traceable location is well known ; and it quite likely that when trees are cold, deep ground tho nearer roots can be kept to the surface better would be the fruit." PUZZLES IN SPELLING. They Are Liable « t Myst Cntrfi Yon In • PLANT INTELLIGENCE. Firmness and Delicacy of Touch in the Climbing Plant. One cannot believe that plants have individual consciousness, and yet their actions show a nice adjust-environment, reveal a fine intellige must think, is reveals itself plant life as The gence, we in the whole plan and in one way through it reveals itself in through animal and human life. The following extract from Knowledge indicates the firmness and delicacy of touch, so to speak, in the climbing plant. "It is in the twining plants, such as bryony and hop, and the tendril bearers, like the vetches, that we find tho highest development of the climbing habit. These plants live under unusual conditions. In order they must seek, rather than avoid, overhanging foliage, and so we find the vetches, instead of turning away from the shadow toward the light, like most I of their neighbors, boldly pushing up inter of a bush, to burst id its upper branch-far above their less daring neighbors. But it is in the leaves of that we find the most remarkable modifications adapting them to a climbing habit. The es of tho vetches and vetchlings pinnate--they bear a number of isite ovate leaflets. The tip of leaf-stalk and the uppernx^t pair of pinnae are in the climb'-g species changed into tendrils--sensi-tWining, whip-like structures. What queer quirks a good and obedient mind will sometimes take! A clergyman of exceptional scholarly attainments tells me that he once wrote what he at the moment conceived to be the word "righteous." The nature of his calling ought to suggest that of all words this one should be among the most familiar to him, and Indeed it was. Yet when he had written it it did not look right. After puzzling over It for some time he concluded that It must end with "ious" instead of "eous," as he had written it. Finally in a mental muddle he went to his unabridged dictionary, but was amazed at finding no such word there. Deferring further search for the nonce, he completed his letter and 'then opened the dictionary again. This time he found the word all right and iu its proper place, a fact which, he said, would have been a warning to him if he had been a drinking man. The explanation of it was that by some unaccountable freak he had got it into his noddle that it was spelled "ritcheous." He had spelled it so in his letter and had of course looked on the wrong page of the dictionary for it In the first instance. By the time he looked again the crotchet was out of his mind, and he knew how to spell the word as well as Webster did. Scholarly Men and the Pulpit. If scholarly men more and more reject the church as the means by which they will influence opinion ami conduct and replace it by educational, editorial and administrative agencies, the next century may be altogether guided in Its Intellectual decisions and in those of its actions which depend on Intellectual judgments by forces outside the church. Our grandfathers looked to the minister for advice not only upon religious beliefs and moral practice, but also upon most matters outside their own direct acquaintance. The minister prescribed for the education of sons, solved social problems and acted as the source and judge of truth in matters of general knowledge. Our sons seem likely to regard the ministry as a body of men fitted to deal with men's religious welfare, but less fitted to be generous mentors in others. The direction of the people in other than purely religious activities may pass wholly out of the hands of the church.--Professor B. L. Thorn-dike in Century. whicL If the slightly curved, extended tendril of a young leaf of pea or vetch be watched carefully it will be found that it is slowly but incessantly moving round and round in a circle. If the tendril comes into contact with a twig it bends toward it and eventually takes several turns around it. Even a slight temporary irritation is sufficient to cause a bending toward any side. Finally, the tendril becomes strong and forms a cable for the plant. Not only the young tendril rotate ; the loaf on which it is -borne is in continual motion. The shoot to which the leaf belongs is rotating also, so that the tendril *is sweeping the air with complicated motion, in the course of which it is almost suro to strike against some stem or twig of irrounding vegetation." A Traffic Wedding nine. A tragic story of a forgotten wedding ring is told in the "Lives of the Lindsays." He should have been at church when Colin Lindsay, the young Earl of Balcarras, was quietly eating his breakfast in nightgown anc} slippers. Reminded that Mauritia of Nassau was waiting for him at the altar, he hurried to church, but forgot the ring. A friend present gave him one, which he, without looking at, placed on the bride's finger. After the ceremony was over the countess glanced at her hand and beheld a grinning death's head on her ring. She fainted away, and the omen Anally* I maae such an impression on her that v and : on recovering she declared she was anchor ■ destined to die within a year, a presentiment that probably brought about its own fulfillment, for in a few mouths the careless Colin was a widower. grow fast. ROOT PRUNING FRUIT TREES. That the pruning away of roots of fruit trees will causo them to fruit quickly is well understood, and is sometimes practiced by our fruit growers when a tree has grown strongly and has passed the time when it should bear without having fruited. English fruit growers understand this and practice it, but they root prune also for another reason, which is that they believe deep roots not only lessen the flavor of fruit, but that they cause disease in ALL READY FOR THEM. The long-haired young reformers Were holding an informal debate, and when they had agreed that the world was just almost as corrupt and bad a place as it well could be, a grim-faced man arose. "What you seem to want, friends," said, "is a place where every one s to bo good by law." 'That's it!" chorussed the reformers. "Where smoking aint's allowed, rd such a thing as drink is unknown? Whore no one need worry about food and raiment, and where money does not exist?" "We do!" "Whore every one has to go to church on Sundays, and every one; keeps regular hours?" "That is just what wo do want. Oh, to find such a place!" said a| soulful young fellow, speaking for the others. "Well, I've just come from such a, "You have?" cried the soulful one. "Oh, tell us, tell us, man of won-! derful expei Irritation and Pain. A sharp definition should be drawn between irritation and pain. Irritation Is not pain, but only a frequent cause of it Thus a crumb lodged in the larynx near the vocal cords produces violent irritation and prolonged coughing, which often result In actual pain. So, too, a speck of dust in the eye sets up violent irritation and Inflammation, followed by acute pain. Of the surface of the body the finger tips and th« end of the tongue are most sensitive-- for Instance, a burn on the fingers it much more painful than one on th« back would be, while one on the tongue would be more painful still. Deei wounds are not painful, as a rule, save as regards the surface injury. ■■It 's t plat > go'." called prison!' Trees ot Europe and North America Forest vegetation is much richer ii North America than in Europe and com prises 412 species, of which 176 an native to the Atlantic region, 106 t< one the Pacific, 10 are common to both, 41 | to the Rocky mountain region, and K vant. i are tropical species near the coast ol ld a Florida as against 15S species ii or Europe. Six North American speclei eh a of forest trees--the Judas tree, per Simmon, hackberry, plane tree, hoi one. hornbeam and chestnut--are also in-won- 1 dlgenous In Europe, all now growin| that there naturally south of the Alps. THE WAY OF IT. The lilac blows and gleams along tho garden bulldog scoots and blithely toots with rapture that's intense. The grass is green where bluebirds preen and robin redbreasts hop; the baseball flies along tho skies, the circus is on top. The lively moth devours the cloth and circles round the lamp, and terrapin sets all agrin the features of tho tramp. The quinine pill doth gayly fill tho farmer to the brim; amid the gush the whitewash brush begins to skip and skim. Tho lively.colt begins to bolt the pas-i; the oyster skates favor of the clam. And so we gayly skip and trip and somersalt all day, and put to rout ill care and shout, "Hip, hip! Hooey, hooray!" Davey -- "So he has at last led ler to the altar?" Scones -- "I lon't know whether he led Iter or she Nature'* Toilet. The West Indian negro need not buy soap. He picks a bulb from the "soap tree" in the jungle, which makes a beautiful lather. the1 If he wants a shave, he uses a piece of sharp cocoanut shell or broken glass and It answers as well as a razor. To clean his teeth he picks a twig of "chewstick," which is better than tha best camel's hair brush and dentifrice. The Correct Reply. At an examination held at the agricultural college the question was put, "When Is the best time to sow barley?" The "examlnate," a sharp country lad from the district of Altenburg, promptly replied: "Three days before a gentle rain, Bir." A Lender No longer, "Never lend Burroughs any money ?" "Never did." "But you have." "No; used to think I did, but found I was making a gifv every time"-- Coa'.ou VoaL