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l: L, _-_--V,,l ‘wvâ€" -V - v .- . J 1.‘ ..-e_n, ,<-, ...« M . _ -.,.-.,.».1~./»..- ;.- ,. ,x - .. ..~,.W~I_,~_'.-.v_. THE MYSTEBIUUS KEY OR, PLANNING FOR THE FU I‘URE. CHAPTER V.-â€"-(Con-t’d) my arm set. Oh, where did you get such a beautiful picture of her '2” Gerald returned the next afterâ€" noon bringing a brighter face than he had worn since learning of Al- lison’s sad fate, and which was ex- plained when he related to his friend the incidents and result of his trip. I He also brought home some pic- tures of Allison, which he had cop- ied fro-m an old one, and which proved to be very lovely and won- derfully lifelike. _ He passed them to Lady Bromley. “Take your choice. I intended one for you,” he said huskily; “that is, if youwould like it.”_ “Indeed I would!” she cried eagerly. “Oh!” as her glance fell upon the exquisite face, beautiful girl she was; and I am sure her soul was as sweet and pure as her face. to loo-k directly into it through her great innocent eyes.’ ’ Tears trained from her own as she spoke; she could not be recon- ciled to the fair girl’s fate, or to having Gerald’s life blighted in such a cruel way. Even though she had never known the fair girl, she had grown to feel very tenderly toward her, through hearing him speak of her many lovable quali- ties. “I do-not see why I could not have had such a daughter, or a son like you, Gerald,” she added, after a moment, as she turned _a Wistâ€" ful look upon her companion. The young man could not trust himself to reply; her emotion al- most unnerved him, also, and he was obliged to turn to the window, and gaze stoically out upon the street, to keep himself from break- ing down in a very unmanly fash- ion. He had believed that it would comfort him to have a better and largtr picture of Allison than the old photograph Which he had had for some time; but the beautifully tinted face, the uplifted look of the large, soulful eyesâ€"which the artâ€" ist had developed in a wonderful- ly lifelike mannerâ€"only seemed to make him realize his loss so much the more, and almost rent his heart in twain. But Lady Bromley soon recoverâ€" ed her composure, when she at once proceed-ed to draw his thoughts inâ€" to other channels. . She gave him a description of her adventure of the previous day, and how her sympathies had been enlist- ed in behalf of the poor waif who had been so sadly neglected and abused; that she had brought her home, to see if she could not bright- en her life for a little while, at least. _ Gerald was greatly interested in the story; but, after discussing it for a while, they drifted back_to his own interests and plans, which absorbed their thoughts almost to the exclusion of all else. The next morning Lady Bromley took Allison’s picture down-town, and had it fitted to a costly and beautiful frame, which added great- ly to its attractiveness, and, upon her return, she placed it upon an easel, where the light would fall upon it, and bring out its beauty to the best advantage. “Ellen,” she said, as the girl ap- eared in the doorway, “I would ike you to bring me a glass of water.” Ellen made no reply, and, hear- ing no movement, her ladyship turned to ascertain the reason of her silence. She found her standâ€" ing upon the threshold, transfixed, a rapt expression on her face, her eyes fastened with an adoring look upon the picture of Allison. Pre- sently she tiptoed across- the room, and stood before it, her_ hands clasped upon her breast, which was heaving with mingled surprise and delight. “It’s her,” she murmured rever- ently; “it’s her, and prettier than ever !” “Why, Ellen, did you ever see that lady ‘3” questioned Lady Brom- ley, astonished. Ellen started violently at the sound of her voice, and instantly came out other trance of admira- tion. “See her? Of course I’ve seen her, and talked with her, and loved her with allniy heart,” said the ' girlyh under her breath; adding, with more animation; “ ’Twas she who gave me those ten dollars, and took me to Doctor Ashmore to have ening,” her mistress replied, re- pressmg a heavy sigh. quired, still feasting her eyes upon the lovely face, which she had never seen, except in her mind’s eye and her dreams, since that day which to her, had been the most moment- ous of her life. directly to her question. She evad- ed it by asking another: that this is a picture of the lady who helped you the day you met with your accident? Are you sure?” “what a ly. I should live to bee thousand years old! She was so pretty, I couldn’t You can almost seem'take my eyes off of her while we lsent her and her bundle home in i “A friend gave it to me last ev- “Where is she now?” Elle-n in- But Lady Bromley did not reply “Did I under-stand you to say “Sure!” repeated Ellen positive- “Why, I couldn’t forget her if were in Doctor Ashmore’s office to- gether, and I’ve dreamed of her no end of times Since.” “Come here and sit down, Ellen,” commanded Lady Bromley, indicat- ing a chair opposite her. “I want you to- tell me all about that mis- hap; I did not suspect yesterday, when you spoke of the lady who was so kind to you, that I had any knowledge of, or interest in, her.” (The girl sat down, as directed, and went through- with the whole story, describing how kindly Alli; son had spoken to her on-the street; how, when she had fainted, she had insisted upon having her carried into the office of the noted surgeon, instead of allowing her to be. jolted over the pavements to a hospital in her suffering condiâ€" tion; how she had remained with her during the operation of setting the broken bone; then made up the loss of her aunt’s money, and also presented her with ten dollars ; then an “elegant carriage.” She was enthusiastic overAlliâ€" son’s beauty; her tones were re plete with reverence in speaking of her, and. of her wonderful generos- ity; in fact, she had seemedâ€"to the poor, downtrodden girl, who had been little better than a serfâ€"like some beautiful saint, who had exâ€" tended to- her an almost divinely beneficent hand to lift her out of a bitter bondage to which, almost all htr life, she had been subjected. From the moment that Alli-son had put that tenâ€"dollar bill into her hands, she had been a new creature. Money had, indeed, been “power” in this instance; with it lying hid- den close against her heart, sht had seemed to feel her chains slipping from her, for she knew that it would give her a start on the road toward an independence such as she had never known. . ' She then spoke more in detail of Doctor Avshmore’s' subsequent kindness to her; When he had dis- covered that she was actually dy- ing from slow starvation, he had been so indignant, upon learning the point of having her aunt arrest! ed. But Ellen begged him not to do so, for she feared that, in the end, she would only suffer the more; her chief desire was to watch her opportunity and get away from her, and this the kind-hearted sur- geon enabled her to do by offering her an asylum in his home. “And did you never meet Miss Brewster after the day of your ac- cident?” Lady Bromley inquired, when she concluded. “What? Miss who?” Ellen ques- tioned, a startled look sweeping over her face. “Miss Brewster, the lady of whom you have been tellrng me. Did you not learn her name '1’” “Whyâ€"why, no; she didn’t tell me. I didn’t ask her; but ‘I heard Doctor Ashmore call her Miss Al- lison. I thought that Was her name!” said Ellen, with almost breathless incoherence. “She told me if I wanted anything of her to ask him her address, and let her know; but he was so good to me, I didn’t need to. Wasn’t that her name?” she concluded, looking strangely mystified. “Yes, Allison was her first name; probably Doctor Ashmore was so well acquainted with her he feltat liberty to address her in that friend- ly, familiar way,” Lady Bromley explained. “Brewster ! Brewster !” muttered Ellen to herself, with a flushed, low- ering face, a sullen gleam in her dark eyes. said her companion, regarding her curiously. the latter name that affects you so peculiarly?” to her feet, and with a quick inâ€" drawn breath. I that glass of water now,” and she hastened from the room, as if anxi- ous to escape further questioning. stopped, and, putting her hand to her head, stood gazing upon the floor in deep perpleXity. thinking deeply for a moment or two. Bro-niley’s presence with the water, she waited until she had quench- ed her thirst; then, as she took the empty glass from her, again: backward glance at Allison’s pic- ture; replied her ladyship. floor, and the girl sank upon her knees beside it. wildly. shock you so,” said her mistsress regretfully; “but it is true.” bear it! And she was so rich and beautiful? Now I shall never see her overcome, burst into violent weep- to have its way for a while; inded, the reason for it, that he was on , Allison brewster,” “Yes, Miss “What is there about “Nothing,” said Ellen, springing “Iâ€"~I will bring you But, once outside the room, she “I wouder-â€"â€" No, I don’t believe t can be true,” she breathed, after returned to Lady When she she asked “Where is she now?” with a “you did not tell me.” “Oh, Ellen, she isâ€"dead!” sadly Crash! went the glass upon the “Noâ€"no, not dead!” she gasped “My poor child, I did not mean to “Oh, it can’t be true! I cannot again!” and Ellen, utterly ing. - Lady Bromley allowed her grief she herself was deeply moved, in view of the unassumed love and sorrow which the girl evinced for one in whom she herself had been so interested. - But when she began to recover herself sosmewhat, she quietly ob- served: “Yes, Miss Brewster died more .than three months ago, and she was not, rich at that timeâ€"her fortune had. been stolen fro-m her, and she was actually driven from her beau- tiful home.” “Stolen! from her? she was poor like me “Ye-s; every dollar from her.” “Who stole it? Who dared to drive her from her home?” cried the girl, springing excitedly to- her feet, her cheeks aflame, her eyes literally blazing. with an angry, vengeful light. “Her guardianâ€"the man whom her father had appointed to man- age her affairs,” replied Lady Bromley; but mentally wondering why she allowed herself to be drawn into these explanations to this poor, ignorant girl, who was almost a stranger to her. "‘His name? What was his name?” demanded Ellen, in a scarcely audible voice. “John Hubbard.” “Ah, that’s it! Now I know all about it; and I’m going to tellâ€" I’m going to tell! I don’t care if they kill me for it !” panted the exâ€" cited girl, as .she again sank, al- most exhausted from mtntal excite- ment, upon the spot from which she had but a moment before aris- en. Who stole her money You don’t mean that I” - was taken (To be continued.) ____.__>X< AN CIENT CON CRETE. .â€" Bridgc in South of France Built B. C. 56. In the south of France is a con- crete arch bridge known as the Pont du Gard, which was erected in the year 56 B. C. The concrete in this was not composed of crush- ed stone or other small aggregate of the variety now employed in con- crete bridge work, but was of the- old style, consisting of alternative layers of large and small stones, gravel, etc., and of cementitious materials. ' Vitruvius describes the materials and method-s in use before the Christian era, and other writers, like Alberti in 1485, and Polladio in 1570, accurately describe the me- thod which “the ancients” (as they call them) employed, “of using boards laid on edge and filling the space between with cement and all sorts of small and large stones mingled together.” It is very improbable that the Pont du Gard w0uld have withstood the rigors of climate of the North e-rn United States, but its actual state of preservation, as well as that of many other specimens of ancient concrete work, proves that if modern work is honestly exceut- ed, it will many times outlast any reasonable bond period, so that a very small yearly sinking fund per cent. is all that is required for pro- perlyvdesigned and erected con- crete work. 0 .â€"-â€"-â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"* I No man’s steady character will enable him to keep cool in warm weather. W0” QUALITY DEMANDED IN EGGS. A. G. Gilbert, before the Standing Committee on Agricul- ture, in 1908, said that, for stor- age, the best eggs could be collectâ€" ed from November to March, be- cause, as a rule, the fowls were bet-- ter handled, and; more: carefully fed. As the birds got outside, they picked up decayed vegetable matâ€" ter or animal matter, and the qualâ€" ity of the eggs is deteriorated. put into storage, or into tive liquid, are fresh, said Mr. Gil- blert, I think the summer months are the In order to secure reliable eggs dur- ing the summer season, there should be a guarantee not only that the eggs are strictly fresh, but that the hens which laid them were cleanly fed. It takes effort and care to place guaranteed eggs on This is an age where people demand pure food. strictly new-laid eggs of good flavor and quality, by people who must have them, even at increased cost. Let me cite an instance. summer day, about two years ago, I was met by a junior partner of a grocery firm. He said: “Can you give me a regular supply of strictly newâ€"laid eggs of good flavor. have a class of customers who will have no other kind of article, and we are bound to get such for them, if at all possible.” can give you a limited number, but you will not pay me what they are worth.” ditions. There is one precaution to be kept in mind in this practice, and that is not to plant the corn too close to the trees, as it shades them, and encourages too upright a growth. â€"â€"â€"_. FEEDING YOUNG CHICKS. Rations for young chicks, from the time they come from the shell, are given by A. G. Gilbert, C.E.F., Ottawa, as follows: ‘ First Dayâ€"Little or no food is required. Towards end of day, a few stale breadcrumbs may be fed. : Second Day.â€"â€"Stale bread soaked in milkand squeezed dry, may be given in small quantity. Feed 8. little at a time, and leave none on the platform. A little hard-boiled egg, finely cut up, may be added, With benefit. Continue this for a day or two", and add granulated oatmeal; finelyâ€"crushed wheat may be added to the foregoing with ad- vantage. After 14 days, give whole wheat, in small quantity at first. As the chicks grow older, they should be given a mash composed of stale bread, shorts, corn meal, ground meat, etc. Finely-cut bone or meat will be found a. great in- centive to growth at this stage. On the chickens becoming eight weeks of age, their rations may be drop- ped to three per day. Care should be taken that they are generously fed at last ration. For drink, give skimmed milk and water. >X‘___..__ HECTOR. 0n the Farm '3 In discussing the quality of eggs, Seiect If you can be sure that the eggs preserva- cst time to buy for storing. sale. There is a call for One early Saved His Master’s Life on the Field of W atcrloo. Many visitors to Edinburgh Castle have noticed the curious little burial-plot for garrison pets tucked in a corner of the mighty ramparts. A recent English writer, Mr. J. M. Rainley, tells the story of Hector, one of the dogs there buried. Hector, when a puppy, in 1815, was the property of a young Scotch officer in Brussels, who had bought him to send home to his youngest sister, Lavinia. But the returning. comrade who was to take the gift was delayed, and the dog became dcvotedly attached to his master. Then came Waterloo. The young. Scotchman was terribly wounded in the battle and left for dead. On the second day, the shock of .. his wounds having passed, he tried to summon help, but couiid neither move nor cry aloud. He lapsed again into unconsciousness, which must before many hours become death had not the wild and persist- ent howling of a dog by his ,s1de at last attracted attention. Uneasy at his master’s absence, Hector. had escaped, and by some miracle of instinct, persistence and shreer luck combined, had made his way to the battle-ground, fifteen miles distant, and amid that vast, confused and dreadful scene had found his mast-er. It could not be explained; but it occurred. The youngr officer, when he had partially recovered, returned to Edinburgh, and was assigned to easy duty at the castle. His three sisters lived near by, and despite fortunes ruined by the war. were happy in making much of him and of Hector. Then. from a lateâ€"de- veloping result of his hurts, the young officer died; and the girls were invited by a more prosperous brother in England, with an m- valid wife, to share his home. . But there was Hector! The Wife had a great dislike and terror of dogs; Hector could not accompany them. Moreover, Hector’s master had often ceclared that he could‘ not rest easy in his own grave, had he not the assurance that his loyal rescurer should rest in one marked cared for, and honorably situated in the precincts of the martial and historic castle. So the two elder sisters accepted} and Lavinia, to whom/thtv made over their little all to enable her to do so, remained in Scotland with Hector; to join them, it was’under- stood, at his death. Hector iived twelve years. When at last the old dog rested with the loved and loyal of his kind, Lavin- ia’s sisters were married, her brother and his wife died. Close under the castle walls she lived, a spinstei, to a great ageâ€" a sweet, quaint old lady, with the dress and manners of a bygone era, who. as long as with the help of staff and crutch she could do so, climbed the stecns of the ‘ castle every spring, to make sure that all was neat and green and decent about Hector’s grave. â€"â€"â€"-â€"-â€"-5‘ She: “He has a most extraor- dinary figure, hasn’t he?” He: “That’s so. I believe an umbrella is about the only thing he can buy ready-made.” Teacher (angrily): “Why don‘t you answer the question, Bobby?" His brother Tommy (answering for him): “Please, sir, he’s get a penâ€" permint in his speech.” We I replied: "‘I “What are they worth?” he asked. “Twenty cents per dozen,” I answered. He at once said: “I will give you twenty-five cents for all the guaranteed eggs of the freshness and quality I men- tioned that you can give me.” I exâ€" plained that we might not be able to give him many eggs from the farm, as we usually induced our hens to moult early, but that I might be able to procure the quali- ty of goods he desired from people I could trust. He said: “As long as you can guarantee the eggs, I am satisfied.” I certainly got the quality of eggs he desired, and in some cases had them put up in card boxes holding one dozen, with a printed guarantee on the box cover : “Strictly Newâ€"laid Eggs. These eggs are guaranteed to be non- fci‘tilized, and to have been laid by cleanlyâ€"fed and wellâ€"kept hens.” ' Summer market eggs should be non-fertilized. There is not the- slightest doubt that, if the egg is fertilized, and put away in a warm place during a warm month in suin- muer, the germ is likely to make such progres that, when its devel- opment is arrested, a certain amount of decomposition is liable to occur. The quality of the feed is doubt- less a factor in obtaining flavor. Our only safeguard is really to find the man who feeds his hens pro- perly, and takes precautions to secure the flavor of the eggs. He should certainly be encouraged by getting a high price. The bad fel- low is encouraged, as well as the good fellow, under ordinary condi- tions. ' onor BETWEEN TREES. Dealing with the treatment of a peach orchard for the first season, a New Jersey bulletin, No. 219, says that most any vegetable crop may be grown between the trees the first summer, without damage to the orchard, and it usually proves to be of indirect benefit. The truck crop is likely to receive attention in the form of good cultivation, and this is of much value to the trees. When the orchard is not planted with some marketable crop, the cultivation is seldom as well done. Such crops as tomatoes, melons, sweet corn or beans may be grown successfully in the young peach orchard, and, under average condi- tions, will at least pay the cost of the cultivation of the orchard for that season. Upon soils which have received good treatment in the form of fertilization and cultivation, pre- vious to the setting of the trees, the truck crop will often pay the ex- pense of putting out the orchard, in addition to the cost of the sum- mer cultivation. In the northern part of the State, it is stated. peaches are often grown upon stony soils, and under condi- tions which do not encourage the growing of truct crops, and the young orchard is often planted to the common dent corn, which will also pay for the expense of the sum- mer cultivation, under average con- mum.‘, 4-: «5.3;...â€" ..'“â€".'Ifl‘"