raw that part of my life was ended. ('3;ququ 1V_ ed the drive. Every one knows ho“ " p _ the sea washes the ia'r Keniish coast '2 as words were ever before me in Even amid the oddr of the flower-thine letters of fireâ€"“Gene awayâ€"left no Lagem fof the rich clover meadows and aslrlrcasi" Both by night and by day t e Til-grams 05 the rise-covered ' _ = . hedges I distinguished the sea breeze. U205. ’flat'ul’on my bral§3~ Chr‘Stmas The park was a beautiful undulating Ilaâ€"“Bed; bright lovely Spring “'85 Ciim- expanse. full of fine old trees of ev- ing. \Vhat was I to do? erydvalriety of form. and carpeted with V ," , , _ vvi .o'vers. The hiuse was a grand Mark had gone away and left no ad old mansion that had been built in: the dress. 30 letter DU Prayer from “13 reign of Queen Elizabeth. The sun- could reach h'm. In all the wide world light fell on the great gables and the I did not know where to look for him. ‘ large Windows. My courage almost fail- ‘ . . 1 ed me when I saw what a ma nificent He “emtd‘ni’ 105‘; t? me as though he ’ home mine was to be. I felt gsome lit- had 80116 Int-3 another Sphere- . tle curiosity as to what Lady Yorke What could I do? In the July of this was like._ I pictured her an invalidâ€"- year he was to c..me home and marry Paley delicate. QUiet- lei-0m 10118 I . . . was in her ‘ ‘ , ' me; I was waiting for him. I had'no my mistake. piï¬ï¬seataï¬gcel 5:391:12“! other future; no other home. nothing chief malady was due to having had also to which I could look forward. all she wanted allher life. She had nev- Where was lieâ€"my handsome brave ‘ 81' known tl‘Cuble or care. She was young lover who had loved me so 5 ï¬aifr‘lï¬lfiiwoman' W‘th dark eyes and dearly, and had worshipped me so en~‘= An expression of languid discontent tirely? Was be living or dead! Hope. marred the beauty of her face. There I put on mourning for my lover. The â€"â€".~-_. ~ . I -led me was a line across her white brow that health. SUV-118.ch e‘eryttl'ng 3"; d betokened temper, and something in except my {ï¬lthy that “3-5 im- mnle the expression of her lips told the same and untouched. If he was Lying ill. story. The room was beautifully fur- unable to write, I knew ha.a was think. enld_ decorated. v£11.43 lady her- . 4 , _ . f'e . was yin‘g on a ccuc , doing noth- ing of me. ldngmg for me’ If 11: this: :ng. neither_reading nor working. She. been suddenly sent to some 13 ‘1 looked up With a glance of relief as†I place on business, from which perhaps BQFerPd- I l . ! l ‘ l 2'45! flat he was unable to send news t.) me, so Misha Ohesfter,†she eirclaimed, with .. W... i. as I was. £3.38. mourned-i311. am: if he was lying dead in the depth? 0f I did not know what to do with my- the sea. his last thought had been mine. selLf. dPniy (it down." ‘ ' d . ht this a y or e did not look like a perâ€" Every 1301}? Of the d“) 3;“ mg I son who was easily amused. I took a one questwn met 318-“ hat mUSt seat as requested. do? There were times when the impulse "I was greatly pleased with: your was Strong “pan me to go out, into references, Miss Chester. Madame do the with world and search for bun Deffand tells me that you are devoute. . . “ to [s it true? She. did not wait for an Then faith and patience came fny answer. “I am glad you have come," aid. They said. “Wait here for him. she continued; "time hangs heavilyon He win came with the “lies and roses; my hands. May I ask for wth you v‘oit in frame and patience.†are m mourning?†up . . . . I _d Oh, Mark, how little that mourning - 931195131108 033116 and “em: 3"“ “ expressed my true sorrows for you! ed io.lsiug at the lilacs. Their perfume I felt my lips tremble when I answ- filled the airâ€"I could not help breathâ€" “3%†are gentlem t h I . _ _ _ . . - ‘ an o w rug itâ€"lrnt I avaided looking at them-I engaged, Lady Yorke. cm was My heart was Sick, half dead With pain "How very sad!†she said) just in the and the sight of them would almost $913 Efï¬e in which she would have ' '. I , ‘ ,- ie , r'mv very peasant!†have Llllbd me~ Ill-0 June ‘3‘th “ 1th Then she looked at me with asmile. its roses, My little store of money “You did not tell me that you were was all gone. and Iknew that I could a. [beauty Miss Chester." not remain many weeks longer at the T-Ihél‘d In“ lfn‘maitg'lll l‘epliedQ _ _ . . - on y veice . a ad ‘ever called wtiage- le‘l‘L would minim July’lf me. bewu'tiful was hushed forever. he were hung; and If he (11¢ 11% comer _“People of your way of thinking do I should know that he was dead. So not value thle gift of personal beauty, in desolation and anguish 'of heart I I 8th? regarkgd' counted thle days- I dreaded at times "lVliat d?) mejï¬inlgy my do of to look in the mirror; I was so afraid thinking. 'Lady Yorke?" y that my hair had grown gmy_ The h‘l‘llfadame tells .me that your color :had left my face, and the light gagghghtszhaéremmï¬gg in heaven than on had died from my eyes; but July “'53 "The man Iploved is in heaven †I awning. . “\Vhere else could my thiughts Ah, me, can I ever forget the slow 1363}? I t rte V n . eope are no: 0 n true to a torturenf that monfth? I‘veli day ’I’ dead love," said Lady Yorke calmly. went. to the group 0 trees ii ere “6 I her my part, I do not see much! use had parted, to wait as I had promised. in it." . One by one the sultry days went by. ."_'I‘.ruth’ to the dead and truth to the and then I felt sure that he was 1113’an art? 0110 and the Eumfl thing-†dead. He would have come to me had‘ I salgl. With‘ the rash presumption of he been living. My handsome, brave. one Ignorant and inexperien:ed. 1 true young lover was dead. had known only one love and one; faith I would only Pray to Heaven with! â€"hlow could I .l'lldge 0f Others? ‘ weeping eyes that I might die too. ‘.'I hiope you will like your rooms." During these long months of suspense Said Lady Yorke. "I told Masbam the I had lived through the suffering of hflusekeep‘er. to give you the t“'0 most a “fetï¬ma cheerful. They are in what we call 'W'lien the month of August came I the 'Queen'S Wing.’ I hope yCu- Will be» very comfortable. Miss Chester. I think you told me you had no rela- sun of my life had set; I would mourn tweS?†for Mark as wives s.irr0iv for a belov- "No." I replied; "I am quite alune ed husband. I never thought of an- 1'11 the “'Ol‘ld-" other lover. or of future comfort, or "Ah. then," said Lady Yorke, with hope, or happiness. \Vherever he lay a. pleasant smile. “you will be the bet- dead' were my heart was buried with fer able to devUte all your time. mm, The realities of life came upon thought 941d attentl‘n ‘30 me": me, and I believe saved me_from g0- ing mad. I sold all my furniture. and , .‘ books. everything I possessed; I gave C’H‘Am‘ER V' liberally to Dix-uthy. and bade fare- In a. few days I was quite at home wall to my lovely old home. I was at \Vestii‘Oud and understood my duâ€" {meatyone when I went to London ties. They were certainly heavv. For- £0,991; my fortune. The first pOSE l tunately for me. with my great love obtained was that of teacher of Lng- ‘ of early rising and fresh air, they. did tish in n. hoarding Sabin! in France. not commence until ten in the morn- I did not like it. and through the UI- ing. Lady Yorke did not care to lg fliieacc of (-110 of the elder Pupils I disturbed before that ll’)u1‘. I do not obtained an engagement in Englundâ€" think she had ever seen the sun rise not as givcriicss 1113:; time. but-ascom- or the dew lying-Jike diamonds on pardon to Indy Yorke. who lived {it the grass. So the fresh sweet hours a grand old place called \\ estwcod. 111 were all my own. I rose almost with Kent. I was glad enough ti return the sun. thinking often that if people to England. Before 39mg t? V‘ 95t- knew how lovely the early morning wood I want to (iraa'cdieu witii per- was they would never waste much time haps a forlorn limo that I might 1194“ in sleep. and went out into the park. some news of )lill‘liâ€"OI how he had ' It seemed to me always that: I spent died. those early morning hours with Mark; I went the Old “UNIâ€"Prom “153 1‘90†the only difference lay in this that he tor to the lawyer, and from him to “as on one side of the blue sky and Marks acquaintances. ho me had I on the other. And 1 was possessed heard one WUl’d. He was deadâ€"Mark. I with the idea that he could hear and my darlingâ€"dead. and l was alone. see, me, nth, my love, hi\\' I loved you! There was but one th-ng “CINE 199â€"â€" \Vlien I went back to the house after to live my life and Pray that? I “night ’ those hiurs of peace and rest. my. mind join him in heaven. was braced for the day. If I had nz-t, It was whispered from 0118 t" “11' i seen Mark I had lovked long and lov- other that my lover was dead; and “Nil 1 ingly at the blue heaven where he was. to those who cared most for me there I had not spiken to him but the whis- L‘a-me fl glenm Or I'll)? for one “1101134 . per of the wind. the ripple of} the leaves no earthly ties. [the song of the birds. all seemed so It. was in the month of July that I many mesgages from him. After ten went to “’estwcod. Lady \Ol‘ke “'03 , o'x‘lrck I had never another moment very candid Willi mew 5118 to“ me that ; to call my own. Then Lady Yorke was the one complaint F118 Sum‘red from i in her houd'vir. and every morningshe was ennui. She waslonely: she want- i had a thousand new wants, It was 3 ed tuiiusement: Elle Deeded 9: "heerlm * puzzle to me how she invented them. ‘oocnpaniun- she “‘00†.l‘eqmrf‘ me_l° : There were letters to answer. invita- Spend the great“ 1’3rt 01 my tl1119‘chitions to send out. She liked to hear her. Imust read to her. axis“?r 11" me read. Every day brought its paâ€" letters, send out her invitatizns. She , pets, periodicals. magazines. new novâ€" would expect In? t" Sp‘md “33' 9"911‘ i els, all of Which must be read» to her. ings in the dra““08'r°'*"b ‘10 .5108 “13"†T Then we walked or drove. At lunch- needed, take a hand at “bust. the I ma [,vrd Yorke jozned us, and than wrote nit-st unresermdly t“ "19- “1". her ladyshlp rested. \Ve had another ï¬le would be tedisus. she Ownad- bl“ : drive in the afternpn dinner at man I would have a large salary and l seven and in the evening Lady Yorke a Cambium" home- requested me to sing. I liked that On the sevo'nd of Julyâ€"I shall never ' rune best. for I sung every sweet (rm-get um into-I found myself at the 1‘â€ng that I knew. and I sung oral-17 simian “r Wm‘lb’iatoni the always to Mark. 0!}. my love, how I awn-st to“: to “'esttv'ood. A luxur- Ioved you! . m carriage awaited me. and I enjoy- Lord Yul-kg was a kind]; genera than man. quite fifteen years older very rich. They owned this fine es- tate at “Eastwood. and they had a :nagnifiwnt house in London and a villa in Florence. That was Lady Yorke's whim. “hen the winter was to: cold and the spring too wet. she went to Mentme. where she could bask in the sunshine the whole day lung. They had nuimerous visitors and friends. It was to fill the interval between the departure of one set of visitors and the coming of the next that I was wanted. Lady Yorke could not endure to be alone, she must be constantly amused. They had no chil- dren; and that was the one- drawback. I liked Lord Yorke: he was always kind and courteous to me. He was not much interested in politics; the care and well-being of his estate cc- cupied his whole time. He would not have a land agent or a steward; he did everything himselfâ€"kept 1115 acâ€" counts, received his rents. saw his ten- ants overlcoekd the home estate. Hardly a weed was pulled up without his orders. He was just as indus- trious as his young wife was the re‘ verse. \Ve were always excellent friends. At times he asked me to help him, and his thanks always pleased me. Poor Lady Yorke! Young. beautiful- wcalithy, she was yet one of the most discontented and miserable of had a. husband who indulged her and granted every wish that she express- ed; she was never called upon to make any exertion either of body or mind. She was never compelled to think; Lord Yorke and Mrs. Mashlem thought for her. If twenty visitors were comâ€" ing. it made no difference to her. Be- fore I had been many days there I had read her character accurately. She .was ill from indolenice. \Vatcihzing her for a while day, seeâ€" ing her study nothing but herself, her wants, her wishes, her whims, and her uaprices. ordering things because she fancied. and not because she wanted them, spending money profusely with- out looking at what was purchasedâ€"â€" seeing her send away themost delâ€" icate fruits, the most recherche of dishes, the most crstly of wines, under some pretext or other too absurd to mentionâ€"J thought of the many poor “women dying for want of food, of the many children perishin'g from hunger, and have wondered. She did not seem to know anything of the hard side of life. She ate from silver plate; she drank from the rarest of Bohemian glass: tea was se‘i'ved to her in‘ the finest of Dresden china. She wore the finest of linen. of lace, silk velvet, and satin; she had jewels of priceless value; in all her life she had never wished for one thing that had not been She perhaps had read "cold." "priva- tion, starvation." but she did not understand their meaning. Howcould she when she had never felt either cold or hfunger in her life? Her life had been a. Sybarite’s life of pleasure, and the result was that beyond herself she had not a care or thought in the world. It seemed to me that if I could awaken this sleeping soul I should not have lived in vain. I remember the first time that she seemed to wake to a consoiousness of suffering. She had never been ill her- self, and she had never seen anyone in pain. \Ve were crossing the park when suddenly above our heads we heard a discordant cry of birds. Sudâ€" denly a little bird fell fluttering and dying at our feet. It had been atâ€" tacked and wounded by some bird larger than itself. I shall never forâ€" get the look in the dark eyes; the faint fluttering of the little wings ere it died. I had raised it in my hand and it died there. "Poor little thing!" I said. "It has had a short life, but a merry one. I hope. in ih-‘se great green boughs." “Is it really dead?" Lady Yorke, ask- e-d. drawing near with a pale face. "I donot think Ihave ever seen anything. dead." "Is that true. Lady Yorke?†Iasked, leaking at her in wonder. “Yes. quite true." "Have you ever wondered what death is like?" I inquired. "‘I do not think so. 1 have never “bought of death at all." “Have you never lost any friends?" I asked again. "Has no one whom you loved died?" "Noâ€"no one whom I loved. People I have known have died; but lhen they always seemed to me quite apart from the rest of us." . I looked in wonder at the beautiful face. "Have you ever thought that you yourself must die?" "I suppose I shall die 5 \me time," she replied: "but I am young nowâ€"~I need not Ire-gin to think ab t it yet.†“Have you ever hear of young peoo ple dying. Lady Yorke?" I asked. "Yes. but, that does nit often hap- pen. I should think. Age and death naturally go trgether." "My Mark was young." I said. “and strong. he never had a day's illness and he died." "\Vhere did he die?" asked Lady Yorke, and suddenly I remembered that I did not. know. That which seem- ed so certain to me might be very unâ€" certain feathers. “I try never to think of such disagreeable things." continued Lady Yorke. "It does no go‘d. and makes one's life miserable." "No life can be really happy that is not ruled by such th'ughls.†I replied. "\Ve ought to live for the next world and not for this." “Madame Deffand said you were very serious. For my part I could not give my mind to such ideas. The very sight of that dead bird has made me feel ill and miserable." ' Yet. everything living in this world has to die sooner or later." I said. She made no remark. but I saw that the indolent. selfish soul. was roused from its long sleep. The first thought of death and pain had come to her. nev- er to be forgotten. {To Be Continued.) granted to her. the words “hunger.†n u his leautifnl languid young wife. He ~.-.~orshipped'her, and she in her help- 'e§ way was fond of him. They were wom- royal small arms factory at Sparkbrock en. She had not a. useful inttesrest liln near Birmingham, the world. She had servan w J , waited upon her hand and foot; she S“ 0RD MAKING- ! SWORDS MADE FOR INDIA. HOW THE BEST SW70RDS ARE MANU- FACTURED AND TESTED. l‘he Strongest Jun In England -â€" He Does fllsgltest to Break the relished Steelâ€"ls “Great Favourite of the Queen. The recent fighting in India has so alarmed Lord Salisbury that he has prevailed upon the Queen to send a supply of fine Birmingham swords to the English troops in India. writes a correspondent of the Cleveland Leader Fighting at close range the English have been driven back from their strongholds ‘through the impotence of their bayonets which crumbled undera thrust. and the delicacy of their swords that snapped when in use. The tronps of India. on the other hand, armed with native dirks and swords, made steady advances, and the result was defeat rather than advance. The Queen has opposed the use of swords. but-now cods'EIâ€"itéwto theirflu'se: and. proud of her work, she has for the first time in the history of Great Bri- tain 'thrown open to the public the Hitherto the Queen has carefully guarded the making of her rifles and swords, and those who were in the sec- ret. have like Hiram Maxim with his gun, kept to themselves the process by which small arms are made. But in these days of war talkâ€" it is ELI) abad thing to know how these pieces of steel are turned out. _ In the first place England does not pretend to use all the arms that she manufactures, but she goes on mak- ing them and storing them away in the big storehouses for use some day if need be. The process by which the rifles are made is not greatly different from that of other countries but the swords have a prozess of their own which is truly remarkable. The writer had the pleasure of going through the small arms factory near Birmingham a few days ago and of seeing the swords turned out. The bars of crude steel are brought in loads to the factory ready to be made into swords. The building in which they are made is a long, low one, and1 each workman is impressed with the im- portache of his position. In Her Ma- jesty's workshops there is no such thing as slighting a. piece of work. The men are paid large sums, even in these days of English low wages, and each understands that he has an important part of this work resting on his shnulders. The workmen in the first open shops open her factory for public Inspections In another part she has a vex-3'3"} department where weapons are ro-' paired. Here sword handles are re moved from defective swords and good swords put upm them. A rifle goesthrough one hundred one! fifty promwes lief-ire it isfinally har- dened. This hardening is done by dip- ping when red-hot into avessx‘l con- taining oil. The same process is car- ried on with _a sword only the steel is made much finer and the hardening procemcs are repeated many times. The Queen is very proud of her big man who teits‘ her r ya] arms. and on .1 when he was taken ill. she was so fear~ ful of his life that she sent. the niynl physician down to Birmingham to treat him free of charge. Swords are now being rapidly ship- ped to India and English Sildicrs can fight at a short range withaut the crumbling of their weapons. â€"â€"â€"-â€".â€"â€"â€"-â€"_|â€" GRINNIN G SKU LLS. 'l‘lim‘. lnclosed Tlmcplccen In Early ban or France. Some timepieces have come within the reach of every one. and watches are made large enough for bicycle bars and small enough for a lady's ring. it is curiously interesting to recall smueof the oldâ€"fashioned ones that served our ancestors so well generations ago. Even to-day some of us have caught a glimpse of the partly old gentleman whom Dickens loved to picture with his ornate seals wide guard and enor- mous watch that filled to bursting the capaoious fob that was its resting place but like many other cumbersome fiish< ions lliese msrxacunble timepieces are interesting new only as curios. Long before our time or that of our grandfathers watches were made in such’ fantastic fashion that it is a marvel that their owners managed to carry them about. No one scams to know the exact: date of the first timepiece, but the middle of the fifteenth century seems tr.) have been the period when "portable clocks†began to appear. In the different col- lections of antiquaries there are a few specimens of the "Nurembung eggs." or watches made in oval shape- and coming from the town after which they were named. - In the possession of Lady Fitzger- ald. of England, there was one watch which was SHAPED LIKE AN EAGLE. which had a small boy on its back. This odd ornament was made to hint at' the story of Jupiter and Ganymede. This breast of this bird opened to show the dial beneath. it, and the works worn most elaborately ornamented. When the fair owner of this treasure did not wish to wear it on her girdle shq could stand it on her table. Gold and silver smiths seem to have let their fancy run riot, during the sixteenth century, and watches made in the form of ducks, acorns, of cockle Shells and of all p ssilde things made. their appearance. Most of them struck the hour. and one notable invention fired a diminutive pistol at certain in- were at work upon bars of rolled steel torvals. - which they were heating and turning into different shapes, ready to Le car- the right length. It was then placed l \Vhen Henry II. of France, fell in love with Diana of Poitiers. about 1547. . [she was awidow and Wire mourning. Pied Fed-blot? Ollt 0‘5 .lhe furna'ï¬â€˜ey and ‘ Of course that offered an opportunity dePOSlted Into a maï¬swe milChine- Here . to the extravagant courtiers of the the steel was elongated and cut Off at : day! and result “73,3 that “H ornaments at court were fash‘ionedafâ€" under a Steam hammer, Which Shapï¬d i ter such' gruesome ideas that the ridiâ€" It 111 alllll'ommavtely the Shape that it ' (iu‘lous was clrse upon the sublime. to finally bears, the rifles being rounded and the sword steel flattened. It was then put through a bewilder- ing mass of machinery, gr ing from one machine to another. until it has missed) t mos-t striking pndm-tg (,r the through -:ne hundred processes and been carried by twelve miles of leather belting. It was afterwards carried inâ€" to ancther building, where final work was put upon it,and, finally, into the third building. where it was to be test- ed by machinery. THE BIG M AN. The most interesting thing of all is the final tasting of the swords. This is done by one man. the most powerful workman in the United Kingdom. IIe weighs nearly three hundred pounds and is as musoular as he is heavy. I-le ! say the least. Rings were formed liked skeletons, tiny coffins of gold were worn as ornaments, and they contain- ed enameled figures of death‘. but the hour were the watt-hos, which dangled from fair ladics' belts and wlii'hropresenb- ed grinning skulls. the tops of which lifted to dim-lose the. dial plate. Of course, the eyes were brilliant jewols and small fortunes were spent in the elaborate ornamentation of these fu- neral trinkets. llut the. ivnb-hcutho trinkets and the [topple “’h'l wore them have all passed away. and since 1620. or thercabnuls, the flat, oval or round timepiece 'lflL‘l lreen the general fairoritc. Time. does nut go so fantastically with us as it; dirl with those untut red is a giant, and could take a place in l geniuses of mirlicr limos rind i‘erlmps any dime museum in the world. He is an athlete as well as agiant. and ! our plain Bul‘ï¬lflllllfll wot-hos tell all much of (ur character as did those li- k‘K‘l)cl Ill) his Strength “3' CODSlflnt 34X“ zarre inventions of earlier daysabnnl ercise. ’l‘his man's work is to test the swords. He has before him an im- mense elm block. round and hard. without the smallest defer-tin it. It is absolutclysmooth, and there is no chance for a groove or flaw. As the swords are turned out they are placed in great piles near this huge workman, and the giant takes them the men and women \Vhl wore them. THE VEGETABLE WORLD. â€"â€"-â€" I: .h'conuls l-‘or "le' I'c-nr lie.qu Turin Month-s Long. It is all owing to the vcgvtable world that the year is 12 months long. it one by one and tries them upon the I might have teen shorter or longer. had elm block. He takes his sword in his right hand, and with all his force strikes the block with the blade. 11': it] proves equal to the test and does not ! “mun†“'i†snap. he turns it over and strikes the block with the bark of the sword. .He stands alone in a Mg. «pen space. so that no one can be hurt by a defec- tive piece as it flies off. If it misses this test it is a pretty good sword. and needs only the final trial of tlw. bridge. The "bridge" trial consists in bend- ing the sword over a machine until it describes a beautiful curve. It is then quickly released and must snap back to its former position. It in a fact that one out of five swordnbreak beneath the big man's blown, and at each broken one the big man laughs and rubs his hands gleefully. for he has wromplished his missionâ€"that of finding « A DEFECT. IN THE STEEL. To watch him at work you would think he were a demon to destroy the weapon which is the pride and 11 pe of the British army. There has never been an armor ar'ano dnl in Victoria's works. and perhaps it is to show how elegantly her royal arms are made that aha has thrown Nature arranged nimirs differently. as things are now, however, a little re~ show that any other arrangement is out of the question. In an interval of 12 iiirvntlis. act-or- ding to llr. Whlewoil. "th- cycle of most of the cite-run! influuntL-s \illlt'h operate upn plfllll‘i is cmnplt-led.†If the. earth were moved by i no eighth of it»; distant-e nearer the sun the year would be u. IlllllUl thorlcr. In the course of a year the fruit trees-,1“; an exauzp'e. lime pie ~iselyvn- ough time to fulfil their duties; if the year were twice its length they would be unable to bring forth twn crops of fruit. for the rcnaln that they would not have. the winter .vnaw‘n for rent. The aa‘iinduncy of the Hip. the put» ing forth of the leaves. the flowering and the fruit tearing, are all timed precisely according to the season». For this reason they calm t be altered, and the year is 12 month-4 1' ng. It has been calculated that there an at least 10.001 kinds of “vomtablg watch-s." of all kinds, which are timrt.’ m; mourntely as mechanical watt-hm u fulfil their duties in the worse 0; a solar year. .. .. u... ..- ....a..4 -..- . . ..