q. vwvwrfl‘“:-.-4mu~‘.dn“ .. 4 ma. .s;. .vat. .flg .. ._ . , , ......,_,. ‘e FATE’S INSTRUMENTS. CHAPTER IIIâ€"(Continued) "Eight years ago,†he said, slowly, “you employed me as your counsel. You were charged with theftâ€"stealing a pair of shoesâ€"at. Peckton Quarter< Sessions: You retained me at a fee of one guinea." Neaera was motionless, but a slight [mile showed itself on her faoei "What are Quarterâ€"Sessions 3" she asked. "You pleaded guilty to the charge, and were sentenced t 03. month's im- prisonment with hard labour. The guinea I asked you about was my fee. I gave it to that fat policeman to give back to you." "Excuse me. Mr. Neston, but it's real- ly too absurd." And Neaera relaxed her statuelqlln attitude, and laughed llghtâ€"heartedly, deliciously. “No wond- Or you were startled last nightâ€"oinyes, I saw thatâ€"if you identified your cous- in's fiance with this criminal you’re talking about." ' "I did and do identify her." 'Serioimly f" i “Perfectly. It would be a. poor Joke.“ . "I never heard anything so monstr- ous. Do you really persist in it? I don't know what to say.†“Do you deny it ?" "Deny it! I might as well denyâ€"â€" but of course Ideirv it. It's madness." “Then I must lay what I know be- fore my uncle and Gerald, and leave them to act as they think best." N auera took a step forward as George rose from his seat; “Do you mean to repeat this atrociousâ€"this insane scan- (18.1?" “I think I must. I should be gladto think I had an alternative." Neaera raised one white hand above her head, and brought it down through the air with a passionate gesture. “I warn you inotl" she cried; “I warn you not 1" George bowed. “It is a lie, andâ€"and if it were true, you could not prove it." George thought this her first false step. But there were no witnesses. “It will be war between us,†she went on in growing excitement. “I will stand at nothingâ€"ndthingâ€"to crush you; and 1 will do it." - :‘You must not try to frighten me," laid George. Neaora surveyed him from head .to foot.- ’l'hcu she stretched out her white hand again, and said, “G01†. George shrugged his 'shouldcrs took hat, and went, feeling very much as if Neaera had detected him in theft. So great is the virtue of; a good pres- ence and dramatic instincts. Suddenly he paused; then he went back again, and knocked at the door. “Come in," cried Neil/era. ‘ . As he entered she madeOan impati- ent movement. She was still standing where he had left her. “Pray pardon me. I forgot to say one thing. Of course I am only inter- ested in thisâ€"matter, as one of the family. I am not a detective. If you give up Gerald, my mouth is scaled." "I will not give up Gerald," she ex- claimed passionately. "1 love him. I am not an adventuress; I am rich al- readyi Iâ€"---," I “l'es, you could look' higher Gerald, and avoid all this.'_’ “I don't care. 1 love him." George believed her.- “I Wish to God than I could spare youâ€"â€"â€"" “Spare met ldon't ask 2 your mercy. You are a slandercrâ€"â€"†. “I thought 1 would tell you," said George, calmly. “\\ ill you not go '3†she cried. her voice broke into a sob. _ This was worse than her tragedy airs. George fled without another word,curs- lng himself for a hard-hearted, self- righteous prig, and then cursmg fate that laid this burden on liini.«“\\'_hat was she doing now, he wonderch Ex- ulting in her triumle llc hoped so; for a different picture obstinater fill- ed. his mindâ€"a licauliful woman, her face buried in her white arms, crying the brightness out of her eyes, all be- ixmse George Neston had a sense of dul '4 Still he did not seriously waver in liis determination: lf Neacra had admitted the whole affair and bcsought his mercy, he felt that his resolution would have been sorely tried. But, as it was, he carried away the impression that he had to deal with a practised hand, and perhaps a little profess-mum seal mingled with his honest. feeling that a woman who would lie like that was a woman that ought to be shown in her true colors. ‘ l I And "I'll tell uncle Roger and Gerald to. 'morrow," he thought; "Of course they they will ask for proof.. That means a Journey to l’echonJ Confound oth- er [wuple's affairs!" Georgle's surmise was right. Neacra \Vitt had spent the first half-hour aft.- er his departure in a manner fully as' hearhrending as he had imagined. Ev- erything was going so well. Gerald “ms so charming. and life looked, at last, so bright, and now come this! But Gerald was to dine with her, and there was not much time to waste in oryingi She dried her eyes, and doc- tored thorn back into their lustre, and made a wonderful toilcilc. Then she entertained Gerald, and filled him Willi i d light all a long evening; .\nd at i even o'clock, just as she was driving him out of his paradise, she said, "Your cousin George was here Gav." "Ah. Was he! How did you get on with him i" Neacra had bmught her lover his g; .» Ho mended :1 strong hint to move lm. But she put the hat down. and toâ€"l knelt beside Gerald for a minute or. wt» in sl‘-n~c. "You look and. darling." said he; "Did you and George quarrel i" l "châ€"Iâ€"wâ€" ll'~' vcrv dreadful." l "Why. what. my sue-ct!" ; "No, I won't tell you now. He sh-in't ' nay [got hold of you first and prc~, possessed your mind." _ "What in the world is wrong. Sczi- f Ira?" . , “In will hear, Gerald, soon. But you shall bear it from him. I will notâ€"no, I will not be the first. But, Gerald dear. you will not believe any- ' thing against me i" . i “Does George say anything against you 3" ' _ Neaera threw her arms round his neck. “Yes,†she whispered. _ _ ‘ "Then let him take care what it is. Neaera, tell me.†“No, no, nol .lHe shall tell first." She was firm; and Gerald went away, a very mass of amazement and wrath. ' But Neaera said to herself, when she was alone. "I think that was right. But, oh dear, oh dear! what a fuss sheathâ€"she paused, and addedâ€"“noth- mg I: And even if it were not quite noth- ing, if it were even as much as a pair of shoes, the effect did threaten to be greatly out of proportion to the cause. Old Dawkins, and the fussy clerk, and the fat ioliccmiin could nev- er have thought 0 such a coil as this or surely, in defiance of all the laws of the land, they would have let ‘that nameless damsel go. CHAPTER IV. 0n mature reflection, Gerald Neston At first, when he had heard George’s tale, he had been moved to wrath, land had said bitter things about reckless talking,and . even about malicious back-biting. But really, when you come to look at it, the thing was too absurdâ€"not worth a moment's considerationâ€"except that it had, of course, annoyed Ncacra, and must of course, leave some unpleasantâ€" ness behind it. Poor old Geoi‘gel he had hunted up a. marc’s nest this time, and no mistake, No doubt he couldn’t marry a thief; but who in his sober senses would attach any importance to this tale? George had done what he was pleased to think his duty. Let it rest. When he saw folly, Neaera. would forgive him, like the sweet girl she was. In fact, Gerald pooh-poohed the whole thing, and not the less be- cause he had, not unnaturally, expect- ed an accusation of quite another char- acter, more unforgivable because not so outrageously improbable and wild. Lord 'l‘ottlebury could not consent to treat what he described as "the incid- ent" in quite so cavalier a fashion. He did not spare his hearers the well-worn precedent of Caesar’s wife; and, al- though, after an interview with Nea- era, he was convinced of her innOccnce, it was in his opinion highly desirable that George should disabuse his ‘ own mind of this strange notion by some ! declined to be angry! investigation. “The marriage, in any case, will not take place for three months. Go and convince yourself of your mistake, and then, my dear George, we will make your peace with the lady.) I need not caution you to let the matter go no further.†To be treated as a ovell-intentioned but misguided person is the most ex- asperating thing in the world, and George had hard work to keep his tempâ€" er under the treatment. But he re- cognizetl that he might well have far.- ed worse, and in truth, he asked no more than a suspension of the mar- riage pending inquiryâ€"a concession that he understood Lord Tottlebury was prepared to make, though proof must, of course, be forthcoming in reasonable time. “I feel bound to look 'into it," he said. "As I have begun it, I spare no pains. Nobody wishes more heartily than myself that I may have made an ass of myself." And be real- ly did come as near to this laudable state of mind as it is in human naâ€" ture to come. Before the conference broke up, Lord Tottlebury suggested that there was one thing George could do at onceâ€"he could name the date of the trial at; Peckton» George kept no diary, but. he knew that the fateful expedition had been among his earliest professional journeys after his call to the Bar. Only very junior men went to Peck- ton, and, according to his recollection, the occurrence took place in the April following his call. years ago, was the “I don't will "‘April, eight time,†he said. pledge my- self to it day. “You pledge yourself to the month i" asked his uncle. “Yes, to the month, and I dare say I shall be able to find the day." “And when ton i" "Saturday. I can’t possibly before." The interview took place on the 'J‘ues- day evening. and on \Vednesdziy Ger- ald went to lay the. state of affairs be- fore Ncaera. Ncaera was petulant, scornful, almost flippzint. More than all this, she was mysterious. l "Mr. George. Neston has his reasons." l she said. “lln will not withdraw his- ticcusation. i know he will not." “My dearest, George is a first-rate' follow. as honorable. as the day. If he findsâ€"rather, when he findsâ€"‘ | All Ncacra soil was, "Honourable!" But she put a great deal into that one word. “You dcur, simple follow 1" she went on. "you have no suspicions of anybody. ,lut lct him take care how he [)Cl‘elsls." More than this could not be got out of ‘licr, but she spoke. freely about her own supposed niisdoings. pouring a flood of ridicule and bitterness on George's unhappy hood. “A fool you call him 2" she exclaimed, in reply to Gerald's half-hearted dc- fence. "I don‘t know if he's a fool, but . I hope. no is no worse." - "Who's getting it so precious warm. Mrs. Witt!†inquircd 'l'oinmy Mylcs's cheerful voice. “'l‘he door was ajar. and your words forced themselvesâ€"you know." "flow do you do. Mr. Alylc‘a’l" "As you‘d invited me. and your ser- vant wasn't about. the porter-fellow told me to walk up." i l “I'm very glad you did. 'l‘hcre's no«' thing you can‘t hear." "Oh. I say, Senora!" Gerald hastily; exclaimed. "\Vhy shouldn't he hear i" demandch Sonora, turning on him in superb in~ tiignation. “Are you afraid that. he’ll believe it i" i "No; but we all lhougl.tâ€"â€"" will you go to Peck- "I meant Mr. George hesion." said Ncncm. i “Gcorgx-l" exclaimed Tommy. “And I'll tell you why.†And. in spite of Gerald‘s protest. she poured her Idle of wrong into Tommy's; gynugnhpuc, and widxwipmcd cars. “’l'hcrc! Don't tell any one else. Lord ESL-Run" m.“ tiniexn‘t. I don't mind. for myself, who knows it." ‘ mg, as he conceived it. | iccl; was not quite decent, Tommy was overwhelmed. His mind refused to act. “He's a lunatic l" he declared. "I don't believe it's safe to live with him. He'll cutâ€"my throat, or somethin "Oh no; h lunacy is under control Ta well-trained. obedient lunacy," said hciiera, relapsing into mystery. “\Ve. all hope," said Gerald, "he'll soon find out his mistake. and nothing need come of it. Keep your mouth shut. my boy." "All right. I'm silent as the cold tomb. But I’m daâ€"â€"â€"" ".llave some more. tea ‘3". said Neaera. smiling very graciously. Should she not reward so warm a champion? When the. two young men took their leave and walked away logcther, Tom- my vied even with Gerald in the loud- ness of his indignation. “A lie! Of course. it is. though I don’t mean that old George don‘t be lieve it~the old ass. \‘v‘hy, the mere fact of her insisting on telling me about it is enough. She wouldn't do that if it's true." "Of course not,†assented Gerald. "She'd be all for bushing it up.†Gcr‘dltl agreed again. “It's purely for George’s sake we are so keen to keep it quiet." he added. “Though, of course, Neaera even wouldn‘t want it all over the town." “I suppose I’d better tell Gegore I know?" “Oh yes. You’ll be bound to show it in your manner." George showed no astonishment at hearing that Neaera had made a. confi- dant of Tommy Myles. It; was quite consistent with the game she was play- Nor did he re- sent Tommy's outspoken rebukes. 'h‘Don’t mix yourself up in unpleasant things when you aren’t obliged, my son," was all he said in reply to these tirades. “Dine at home ‘3': . "No," snorted rl‘ommy, in high dud- geon. . “You won’t break bread with' the likes of me?†"I'm going to the play, and. to sup- per afterwards." “\Vith whom i†“Eunice Beauch'amp." _ “Dear me, what a pretty name i" said George. “Short for ‘Betsy Jones,’ I suppose f" “Go to the devil," said Tommy: "you ain't going to accuse her of prigging. are you i†“She kidnaps little boys," said George, who felt himself entitled to some re- venge, "and keeps them till they’re nearly grown up." “I don‘t believe you ever saw her in your life." “Oh yes, I didâ€"first piece I ever went to, twenty years ago." ‘ _And so. what with Eunice Beauchamp, alias Betsy Jones, and Ncaera Witt, aliasâ€"what iâ€"two friends parted for tlitat evening with some want of cordia- i y. "She plays a. bold game," thought George. as he ate his solitary chop; "but too bold. You overdo it, Mrs. \Vitt. An innocent girl would not tell that sort of thing to a stranger, however false it was." Which reflection only showed that things strike different minds differ- ently. George needed comfort. The Ser- pent-in-Eden feeling was strong upon him. He wanted somebody who would not only recognise his integrity but al- so admire his discretion: He had a card for Mrs. l’ocklington’s zitâ€"home. and Isabel was to be there. He would go and have a talk with her: perhaps he would tell her all about it, for sure- ly Ncaera's confidence to Tommy Myles absolved him from the strict letter of his pledge of secrecy. Isabel was a sensible girl; she would understand his position, and not look on him as a cross between an idiot and a burglar be- cause he had done what was obvioust right. So George went to Mrs. Pock- lington's with all the rest of the world; for everybody went there. Mrs. Pock- hngtonâ€"Eleanor Fitzderham, who mar- ried l’ocklington, the great shipo’wner, member for .Llockboroughâ€"had done more to unite the classes and the masses than hundreds of philanthropic 50cie- tics, and, it may be added, in a pleas- anter manner; and if, at her parties, the bigwigs did not always talk to the lil‘tlcwigs, yet the littlcwigs were in the same, room with the bigwigs, which is something even at the moment, and really very nearly as good for purposes of future reference. George made his way across the crowded rooms, recognimng many ac- quaintances as he went. 'l‘h’ere was Mr. Blodwell talking to the lust new beautyâ€"he had a wonderful knack of ir,â€"and Sidmouth Vane talking to the last new heiress, who would refuse him in a month or two. An atheistic philo- sopher was discussing the stagnation of the stockâ€"markets with a high-Church Bishopâ€"Mrs. I’ocklington always aimed at starting people on their lOlIllS of common interest: and Lady \‘lieedle- ton, of the Primrose League, was listen- ing to Professor Dressinghain’s de- scription of the newest; recipe for man- ure, with an impression that the sub- ' but might General Sir be useful at. elections. | Thomas Swenrs was asking if anybody had seen the Secretary for Warâ€"he had a word to say to him about the last rifle; but: nobody had. The Countess Hilda von Soiucverelhcim was explain- ing the problem of “Darkest England,†to the Minister of the Republic of Com- postclla; Judge. Cutter. the. American mystic, was asking the captain of the Oxford lloat Club about the philosophy of llvgcl. and Miss Zoe Bellanca, the irctiy actres, was discussing the rc- latioiis of art and morality with Col- onel Belainour of the Guards. George was inclined to resent the air of gent-rel enjoyment that pervaded the i place; it seemed a little unfolding. But he was comforth by catching sight of lsiibcl. She was talking to a slight young man who worr- nln eyeglass and indulgc-d in an expression of counten- nucc which invited the conclusion that he. was overworked and overstrained. lllilL‘Qll, he. was just explaining to Miss luuriie that it was not so much long hours as what he graphically desoribet as ill': “tug on his nerves" that wore him out. Isnlyv! hm! never suffered from this particular torture. but she. was very syin nthciic, said that she hzid often hmrr! the same from other liter- ary rue-n (\vliicli'was true). and promised to go down lo supper with llr. Espion llllt'r in thc evening. 3dr. l‘lspion went abou‘ his. Lusiipss (for. the fact. is. he was. "doing" ili~'~ party for the Bull's- 'cyc), and the. cont was left clear for (icm‘gc. who come no with a deliberate- ly lugxibriuus air. (51' course Igubvl askâ€" ml him what was the matte-r: and, somehcm' or other. it beppeuml that in less llllll :cu ininuh-s shr- ‘l‘.’ 13 in pip-s:- s-~.~'~'i0n of :ill luv iii'ztri'i'il fat-rs, if lli‘y “ï¬re fili’..\, “morphing Neaera “in and the pair of slim-cs. ‘ The effect was distinctly disappoint- ing. Anilabilitv degenerate: into sim- plicity when it lcuib‘ to the refusal to accept obvious facts merely became they impugn the character of an ac~ quaintencc: and what is the use of feminine devotion if it boggles over ac- cepting what you say. just lx‘causc _you say something a little SIIJ'pl‘ISlIlgI George was much annoyed. “I am not mistaken." he. said. “I did not speak hastily." “Of course not,†said Isabel. "Butâ€" but you have no actual proof. have you. George I" "Not yet; but I soon shall have." “Well, unless you got. it very soonâ€"â€" "ch ?" ' "1 think you ought to withdraw what {graham said. and apologise to Mrs. 1 .II “In fact. you think I was wrong to speak at. all f" _ "1 think I should have waited till I had proof; and then, perhapsâ€"" “Everybody seems to think me an as.†“Not that, George; but a littleâ€"well -reckless." . "l. Shan't withdraw it." "Not if you get no proof ?" . George shirkcd this pointed question. and. as the interview was really 1cm soothing than he had expected, took an early opportunity of camping. Mr. Espion came back, and asked why Neston had gone away looking so sulky. Isabel smiled and said Mr. Ncslon was vexed with her. Could anybody be vexed with Miss Bournef asked Mr. Es- piou, and added, . h “glint Neston is rather crotchety, isn’t e .. “Why do you say that i" asked Isabel. “Oh. I don't. know. \Vell. the fact is, I was talking to Tammy Myles at the Cancunâ€"4" “Where, Mr. Espion 2" “At the theatre, and he told me Nes- ton had got some maggot in his head “I don’t think he ought to that." But need we listen longer? And whose fault was itâ€"Neaera's, or George's, or Isabel's, or Tommy’s or Mr. Espion's? 'l‘hat became the question afterwards. when Lord Tottlebury was face to face with the violated compact,â€"and with next day’s issue of the Bull’s-eye. (To Be Continued.) â€"_.____â€".â€"â€"___‘ FRANCE’S SARDINE FISHERIES. An Industry In Which More Than 25,000 Men Are Engaged Seven Months :1 Year. It takes 25,000 or 30,000 men to catch the fish that go into sardine b0xcs in France alone. The fishermen are em- ployed seven months .a year, and one village alone has been known to oil 2,- 650,000 pounds of sardines and to salt as many pro. The signs of which fishermen judge of the coming of sardines are floating bunches of algae, the odor from sardines caught by fish of prey, and birds hover- ing over the sea. 'The terns dive straight, with wings close, and the cor- morants kiss the water lightly with the bills when these fish are near the surface. It is then the bait is cast overboard. The bait is generally cod~ fish roe, mostly from Norway, salted down in barrels for transportation, but soaked in water to make it heavy. It is cast overboard by the barrelâ€"35,000 tons of Norway roe are used in a season. Countless schools of sardines are at- tracted by it. Curiously enough the fishermen use all gill nets from thirty to forty-five yards long and from nine to twelve yards deep. The bottoms are not leaded or otherwise weighted, and they are cast out so that the sardines, in their rushes too and fro for the bait fetch up in the nets and are drowned. Vv'lien a net gets heavy ,it is pulled in, the fish are taken out and are cast into the hold. Up cos the sail, and away the boat starts or the. shore, where the fish are cured. . There was a time when 12,000 or even 20,000 sardines were taken in a trip by a single. boat, but as in the Lake Erie and the North Atlantic coast fisheries the fish have decreased and nowadays rarely more than 6,000 fish are taken on a trip. For this fishing 20â€"foot boats are used with asharp spear for- ward and a square stern. They are fast sailors but cranky. il‘wo masts that lean back sligthy and two large square luggcr sails catch even slight puffs of air and send the boat a-zipping. At the shore, say from 6 to 10 in the. morning, the boats arrive. coming in like a flock of birds to their roost at night, and are met where the water shallows by men and women dealers holding baskets that carry 500 fish each. 'l’he mcn roll up their trousers, the women their skirts, but many plunge in water up to their elbows if need be to get to the boats. \thn the baskels are loaded, they are dipped lo make. the fish look frcsli, and then they are taken ashore and salted. At the factories women dress them and the fish are spread side by side with their heads cut off in a thin layer of salt atop of flat rocks. This is the first drying. \Vhilc thu fish are lying on the rocks, huge boilers, filled with the finest olive oil, are placed ()Vt‘l' the fire and started to a boil when the fish are put inlay- crs on wire screens or baskets and dip- ped into the oil. Thr-n the fish are put in frmuas to (hip. After dripping lb -y are put in drying rooms and llicrc ex- poscl to the sea air fill in proper con- dition. say ALL SHE \VAN’l‘l'ID. A Scotch womsm ‘wns returning by train from a market town. win-re. shr- had made a few purchnscs. Just as the last bell rung a fussy gentleman. elegantly dressed. and with a “mind- thyself" looking far», rushed into the compartment, flung himself hastily into acorncr. pullu-l out an evening paper, and prrx‘cetled to devour its conâ€" tents. Hardly had he l-W‘Cvlllf‘. seatâ€" ed when the woman timidly address- ed him: "I am W'I‘Y sorry. air. butâ€"« I ni-VOI‘ listen to lmggsrs. fiercely in- terrupted lil" gentlenmn. If you an‘ noy me furlhcr I'll report you. The woman's eyes flashed, then twinkled. She said no more. and the old gcn'lolman yclired with :in angry IIOWH behind his paper. All went merrily as a marriage lx'li until the train arrived at (‘rmnladiv when the ‘iiuld wife " in «'r-pping nut. :igfiin addressed the 1'hlll’ll~ll individual in the (‘Ol‘ll"!‘: 1 var“ na, sir, \'..i.-‘Tiif‘l" _\’I‘ rr-pt‘ar! in» or no. but. I unznl that pound of lurto-r yr'vc. been sittin' on i v:- l'ist PIX mile. 101’ 1.: t nun iii tannin '1 CANADIAN CATTLE 1N DANGER OI- THIS TERRIBLE SCOURG E. .â€" Strlct Quarantine Regulations Necessary“ Importation of Dinnith Midi-s From south U‘rlca I‘csrcd-â€"u0w It Would MTch 0m- Evporl 'l‘riulc. 'l‘hc Canadian cattle trade. which since 189;! has been languishing under the ban of an English embargo, is now threatened with it still more scri- ous danger than any which have hitherto beset it. The exlslcncc of pleuroâ€"pncumoniu among Canadian cattle has for years been denied by the Canadian Government, and so strong were the representations made to the Imperial Government that the embargo was suspended for a short time in 1805. The liuperial Govern- ment. limvevcr. becoming convinced that the disease did exist reimposcdthc embargo. An enquiry into the subject brought some interesting facts to light, which are here summarized:â€" Since 1889 the cattle trade has re- mained almost stationary. and the rude shock caused by the scheduling of stockers, in conjunction with the growing competition in live cattle from Denmark, and notably from the United States, has caused the outlook to be anything but cheering. Now we are threatened with a still more serious danger, and without in any way at- tempting to do more than draw at- tention to this possible source of danger to our trade, it is time to point: out that no matter what may be the apparent immediate cost nothing but loss can result from any parsimony 111 the adoption of the most energetic, comprehensive, and scientific measures for the systematic inspection of Cana‘ dian cattle, from the farm, where they are reared until they have reached the consumer, whether in London 0i 111 Liverpool. The danger which now threatens. and which must; be carefully guarded against, is the introduction of the rin- derpcst, which is now deciinating the herds of South Africa, and its spread among Canadian cattle. In order to thoroughly understand the serious nature of this terrible scourge it. might be Well to relate brief- ly its outbreak and spread in South- Africa. Within the last few years what is locally known as the Zainbcsi cattle disease, which, according to the lust observers, seems to be nothing else lli‘an the rinderpest, formerly so fatal in Northern Europe, has appeared amongst the native. herds of cattle and amongst the buffalo and antclo of the country, extending from t o equator‘to the north almost as far south‘ as Cape Town. It appears that the rinderpest began its ravages in Africa. about the year 1889, when it. broke out in cattle in the neighbour- hood of Aden. 'l'he pandemic character of the disâ€" case may be best understood by re- membering that when it first appear- cd in England in 186-1. having come from Southern Russia. by way of Gerâ€" many, 73,549 cattle were attacked Within a few months, 41,491 of which died. \Vh‘ile doubtless the disease will spread more rapidly amongst domestic cattle, owing to rapid transit by rail. yet. when it; is remembered that the herds of Africa roam for thousands of miles from north to south. and mist to west, the cattle of one tribe not being herded carefully from those of another, it will be readily seen how the (ll.me may be transmitted rapidâ€" ! y where no measures whatever are taken to clicck its spread. ‘ The terrible ravages of the scourge are well set forth in the following extract from a recontly~publi<licd book by Captain Lugurd, llio well~kiiown African traveller:-""l‘hc disease be- gan to spread in 1889 from Aden. and by 1891 had rcnchcd the heart of Af- rica. At. Kavalli every ox had been atlacked only a few weeks before I arrived. l’assing soulhward it reach- od Nynssi. about July 1802!, and we may oxpcct to hear of its ravages Ll) the north in the. Solidan and Abysu siiiixt until it reaches the confines of Egypt, and on the west through the Congo State until its area of death has extended from, sea to son." The spread of the disease is of great interest to Canada, lxxzausc the future prosperity of. the country largely de- pends upon this branch of .‘igriculture, and should this terrible scourge once gain a foothold in Canada our export trade in cattle, now on the decline. would fall away con'iplt-lcly. Now, at the pres'uit time, the hides of those diseased catlle in Africa are being exâ€" ported by tens of thousands, and when it is too late l‘Inglislm'icn may find that they have imported the germs of this fatal disease into England. 'l'lics’o hides, which can be bought for next. it) nothing. may in all probability be im~ ported to Canada from London. and this possibility of the spread of such a. disease to Canada in Ibis way is not at all fanciful. It lli'Nl only bu remembered that in four or five difâ€" ferent cases during the last few )‘l'ilf’fi anthrax has been llLst'uvt‘l‘Hl in Un- iario, and in every instant-i: flit: l’ro- vincizil Board of lll'lllill has found Ill'il it llJlri boon brought in «either in for~~ign sun-dried hidvs from South Ain- «rica, or in unwa.»had wool from the Clip" or Sierra. I'uiiililoiily pur'liriscd in London. lly ill“. purchase of lhvsc hidvs in London lilt'l't'lflrtï¬ the large l:ill!l(-i'l--:i of Canada may be lilo: un- CUIInClUlI$ rip-ans of imrodw-iug this fi-ll plague, (-oiiipzirtul wiili which an- llirzix or Illf‘llrU'lllU'lllliUlll'l would ap- pvzir insignificant. 'l‘lilJil’lIUNliS lN \YINUDIUR CAS’l'lJ'I. (with Victoria has ll‘l‘l several tclv- l}il!)l|"3 iii-dulled lli Windwr Curling ili- _v arr pliccal on ill'l‘ El-ijcsty’s study table. and communicate with lairal 5!lli.‘i"lll‘}’ at tin: Mom-'- (lilo-v, Marl- ;oruugli il-JUS', and [inwlriugbam l’zil- are. in a fvw days an Izloctropliruic will be illirulllmfll at Windsor Castle (in: ilr- (gown will in eiiatlhtl to ha-zir a! lit“ larva: criicrtainiiicnts in the Lon- don th-utr-s illill CUIHL'JI'L hulls. It will ~“."’!l 1m punid“ for the royal cars to bar the lath-u. music hall gags, and. :ii'il, too, without twin’irumismg in the allglllc'hl. degree quch y dignity. ' _, t m 32.3 "6“ x, r. answers“. was»