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It has the reputation of nearly a quarter of a century behind every packet sold---- Black--Green--or Mixed ---- E204 THE LAPSE OF . ENOCH WENTWORTH By ISABEL GORDON CURTIS, Author of * The Woman from Wolvertons *' CHAPTER XXVI.--(Cont'd). "Are you sure?" Merry spoke gent- ly. "Yes, sure." The reflective tone had gone from Enoch's voice. - it was em- phatic. "Out there in the sunshine," he continued, "I realized what defeat meant. I knew my oration was mere- ly a babble of senseless words; there was not a throb in it. Besides, I knew that I could not make it better. Suddenly, on the quiet hillside, I heard a voice close beside me." There was a long pause, Wentworth turned his eyes from Merry and stared out at the window. A trumpet vine climbed over the back of the Waverly Place house and one scarlet blossom hung vivid between him and the sun- shine. "Say, old fellow," said Merry in a low voice, "you and I are friends, closer friends than we ever were. What's the use of raking up old mem- ories if they hurt. The story of some- thing you did when you were in swad- dling clothes doesn't count. Drop it!" "It does count," answered Went- worth stolidly. "I tell you it does count. It is the only thing that ex- plains what I did--when you called my bluff. I have lain here--I've had.days and nights with nothing to do but to think and to analyze things. Why, old man, I haven't had a chance like this for years before. Let me tell you my story; it's interesting even if it isn't much to my credit." "All right, have your own way." "I sat there in the shadow of the wall listening. It was young David Ross practising his oration. Dave came of what the niggers called 'po' white trash," but he had ambition and genius and was working his way through school like a man. He had chosen the death of Caesar, as I had. I crouched there, scarcely breathing; I was afraid he would hear me and stop. His speech was great! As I sat looking out over the valley I could see the Roman warrior while he stood there in the Senate, down and out, hooted at and reviled, yet haughty and defiant, facing the enemies who had once been his friends. I began to sob as a boy does in a shamed, husky, choked fashion. Suddenly a thought came to me. I leaped over the wall and held before Dave a new twenty- dollar gold-piece father had given me that morning. It bought his ora- tion." Wentworth paused as if in an em- barrassment of shame. Merry watch- ed him in silence. "I feel--even now--the reluctant grip with which Dave held on to those sheets of blurred foolscap. I never gave a thought to what I had done. Every moment for twenty-four hours was needed to cemmit Dave's speech to memory. My father, proud and happy, gave me another twenty-dollar gold-piece. I carried it to Dave. He refused it, turning his back on me with angry scorn. Twenty years lat- er I met him again. He had gone to congress and was blasting his way up- wards towards fame. I was assigned to interview him. He remembered me instantly. For a moment he stared at me from head to foot, then he turn- ed away without a word and never touched the hand I offered him. My God! how that hurt!" A shiver went through the man's body. "That happened twenty-five years ago," said Merry hesitatingly. "You can't lay up a boyhood sin against a man. He changes--he's almost an- other human being." "No, he isn't," answered Wentworth doggedly. "I want to show you that the psychological fellow was in the right. That was my first fall from grace; but there was a second lesion. It was worse even than--than what I did to you, Merry. I.was out in the Balkan mountains where the blamed barbarian Turks go tearing at each other's throats once in so often. The world looked on, waiting for a story of war. I had none to tell, nothing hap- pened but a skirmish or two once in a while. There was nothing a man could make into a story. It was a wretched campaign. Young Forsyth, of the Tribune, and I hung together through it for months, living like stray dogs, sick to death of our job, and ready to throw it up at any mo- ment. One morning at daybreak we were awakened by shooting. We scrambled from the cave where we had slept and looked down into the valley. While Leather leather and rubber. 40,000 tons over last year, ) Thus, thanks to the British Government's foresight in encouraging these plantations, the Allied armies supplied with all the rubber ermany and her allies have been §iice to the world at large has actually eanwhile leather has been gettin scarcer and more expensive--80% higher than fi 1014 have been abundantl products they need cut off--and the been reduced. --and the end is not yet. At normal prices a pair of good shoes cost about four times as much as a pair of rubbers--and would last twice as long if rubbers or overshoes were worn . to protect them. Or a pair of heavy rubbers for "the ~ farm cost much less than hea ¢ I] much more wear in bad weather. war rubbers were a mighty good investment, to say nothing of their prevention of wet feet, colds and doctors' bills. rubbers, overshoes, rubber Rubber Supply Steady This Explains Low Price of Rubber Foot- wear in Spite of Increase in Cost of Chemicals, Fabrics and Labor. The war is using up enormous quantities, both of At the same time it is seriousl restricting the output of the former, much of a came from Russia--while rubber production keeps pace with the demand. From the great now reaching maturity in B will come this year 150,000 to of the world's production, and an increase of over ritain's tropical Now, when leather costs so much more in proportion, the faving from wearing rubber footwear ding ~ that no one who believes In thrift will think win the war, for by wearing rubber he her. that is so scarce, yet so absolutely necessary to the ear Rubbers and Save Leather for Gets Scarcer lantations ominions tons of raw rubber--75% shoes, and would stand So even before the Te is so outstan of doing without or whatever kind of rubber couldn't see what was happening; didn't want to see. Death eks echoed all around and above me. It was the most hellish din of battle I ever listened to. I had turned cow- ard. I lay there with every tooth in my head chattering. A nice confes- sion for a man to make, eh?" asked Wentworth with a grim smile. ~ Merry half rose then dropped back into his chair. "Hold on, Enoch, I swear you're not fit for this sort of thing! Your temperature will go up, then the nurse--" - "Damn the nurse. I'm fit enough; keep still. I want to finish my story. Forsyth, the intrepid young fool, went creeping along the face of the cliff. By I knew as surely as if a judge had ! | passed sentence on me that my years | waste paper. He had never seen a battle before. I | called to him to lie low, but he never heeded me. Through a crevice in the rock I saw him stretch his head over the chasm and crane his neck, then plunge down and begin to write as if he were mad. Once I sneaked out and tried to drag him in beside me. He fought like a' wildcat, so I went back to shelter. The bullets pinged on the rocks all round me. Suddenly I heard a low, gurgling awful cry and somebody called my name in a hoarse shout. It was Forsyth. I crept out. He stood on a cliff above me, clutching at his throat, then he toppl- ed and fell. He came plunging down over the rocks until he reached my feet. He was dead, stark dead, when I pulled him into the cave. His note- book was clutched so tight in his hand | that I tore a corner from one page as, I took it from his fingers. I buried him right there. After a little while the battle fiz- zled down to a stray shot or two. That night under the gleam of a sput- tering little torch I read Forsyth's story. It was tremendous--perfectly tremendous--yperfectly tremendous! It read like inspired stuff. I had never dreamed the fellow had such a vocab- ulary. And he lay there close beside me, asleep--under the damp, warm, soft earth. I had a fit of the horrors, I put out my light, stuffed the pages of writing in my pocket, then went doubling and twisting down those wild mountains, dodging the enemy's camp- fires and their infernal bullets, until I reached the miserable little town in the valley we two men had our head- quarters. I hurried to the telegraph office to send out Forsyth's story to the; Tribune, with the news of his death. I was waiting to get the wire when somebody handed me a cable. I look- ed at it half-dazed. It came from my own paper, crazy because I had sent them no story; they were hungry as vultures for news. As soon as I, could get a wire I sent out Forsyth's| story." "Under his name?" asked Merry quietly. "No," Enoch lifted his head, looked at his friend with guilt and shame in his eyes, then he turned away. "No, I signed my own name to it. I sent it to my own paper. I wired the news of Forsyth's death to the Tribune." Neither of the men spoke fof some minutes. When Merry turned, Went. | worth lay staring at him with a pray- er for pity; comprehension, and for- giveness in his eyes. ~"] want you to understand one thing," pleaded the older man. "When you called my bluff that morning and I wrote that bond, I was innocent of any thought of injury to you. I don't know what was in my mind. It was nothing in the world but an idle fancy. I told you so at the time. I did not dream that you could write a play. If anyone had told me you were capable of turning out 'The House of Ester- brook' I should have laughed at him. Then that day, when you came and read the manuscript--I had just given up all hope, as I did with the oration on Caesar. I had been toiling for years and years on a play. There was one--it had seemed to me like a great plot--but I had begun to realize that labor does not mean everything. You want inspiration, or genius or art "or something, and I didn't have it." Enoch paused, wrinkling his eyes as if in an attempt to remember some- thing." "I was trying to think of, something Ellen Terry wrote on thel back of a photograph she once gave! me. It ran like this: " 'When am I to be an actress? Well, after fifteen years' labor, per- haps, Labor! Why, I thought it was all inspiration. No, labor and art are 'oundation; inspiration--a re- "Terry wasn't altogether right. La- r alone won't land the prize. You've proved that, Boy.." : "I don't know," said Merry vaguely. "I do." The man's palesface flushed. "When you dropped in on me, eager as a young victor for a laurel wreath, and years of toil meant nothing but! Then, suddenly, as temptation had clutched at me twice before in my life, came a revenous de- sire.for fame--the fame that another man had labored for an--" * "I understand," cried Merry. There voice. ar old et! forget it. The one thing I can never the depth have been worse than hadn't oo 1 was a thrill of compassionu in his| "Now, dear old man, let's|, forget is that you have raked me from |, » BL He sat silent for a minute. Went-|. worth's eyes were fixed upon him like| "Because an insistent question. y Enoch," he went on in a steady voice, "because Dorcas has promised to be my wife." i 3 . "Oh!" cried Wentworth quickly. "Oh, thank God for that!" / CHAPTER XXXVII, It was a wet night in October. A line of carriages moved slowly over the shining asphalt to the door of the Gotham. Grant Oswald stood in a corner of the foyer watching the throng pour in. "This beats your first night in Lon- don, doesn't it?" queried a newspaper man who stood beside him. "Yes," acceded the Englishman, "the first night or any other night." "Wentworth's escape from death was a great ad--if yowlook at it that way. He had a close call." "Yes." Oswald spoke absently. That morning he had arrived from London. Although he was the least curious of men, he felt as if the peo- ple from whom he had parted four months ago were living in a different atmosphere. Before the ship docked he had discovered a, group waiting to welcome him. Dorcas was there, her beautiful face glowing with happiness. He watched her untie a gray scarf from her hat and wave it. Merry stood beside her, but the girl's hand was clasped inside her brother's arm. Wentworth was wan and thin. Across his temple gleamed a wide red scar. Merry lifted his hat when he caught sight of Oswald and the wind tossed down, almost into his eyes, the wavy lock of long fair hair which proclaime: his calling. Alice Volk stood in the group, with Julie jumping impatiently beside her. Little Robin clasped her hand, while he searched for the ship with his sightless eyes. With a courteous "Good night" Os- wald left the man and walked into the theatre, where a gay, chattering crowd streamed past him. The throng was so dense that he was pushed into a corner. When the overtur2 began he moved toward the rail and took his place among a group of men who had not been able to buy seats. 1%e found Singleton, of the Times, at his elbow. (To be continued). mre Cereals. Seed Grain.--Early attention should be given to the seed grain which is to be sown next spring. If no special fields for seed purposes were grown last summer, next season's require- ments may be met by very careful re- cleaning of the main crop harvested last autumn. One can never- afford to sow weed seeds, and one can seldom afford to sow grain more or less mixed with other types. The fanning mill should furnish plump seed free from weeds. If other grains are present, such as oats in wheat, or barley in oats, it will be necessary, and quite bushels during the winter so as to + His appreciation "LASTING. 0 x4 iS Véo) | Ro { because it guarantees unequalled | service--from Christmas to Christ- | 'mas -- over and over again -- is It's the "safest" gift youl can select, for every man shaves, and knows that in the Gillette you are giving him the best equipment that money can buy. Christmas Gillette displays will be in the windows of all the hustling Gillette dealers--Drug, Jewelry, Hardware and General Stores--everywhere--in a dozen styles or more--priced from $5 to $25. Gillette Safety Razor Co. of Canada, Limited /RB Office and Factory--GILLETTE BUILDING, MONTREAL." ~ 1h & will be SURE and THREE VITAL QUESTIONS. gedaan? Ds I eee and onion the foundation of good health; Pains and o 1S MOTHER EIGELS SYRUP, in and sfter eating, with ache &re sure signs & other 's Syrup, the great remedy and tonie, cure you. i as the smaller. A, f , L The At all Druggists, or direct on receipt price ea and. $100. lo bottle contains Three times as. 'West, Montreal, ~~ A varieties recommended for your dis- trict. For the first season the new | sort should be sown beside the old, and i careful comparison made of their relative merits. Purchase of Seed.--If new seed is to | be purchased, inquiries should be made | early in the winter from those who have grain for sale. No large pur- chase of seed should be decided upon without first seeing a sample and ob- taining a statement as to its germina- ! tion, and as to the quantity of other 'grains present. To intending pur- ' chasers of seed grain the Dominion ' Cerealist will be glad to furnish in- | formation as to possible sources of | supply of the varieties they desire. | Farmers who have seed grain for sale Free Distribution of Samples.--A worth while, to hand-pick two or fee) are requested to communicate with us. have a field of an acre or two to fur-| nish pure seed for the following year. Hand-picking may appear too labor- ious to any one who has not tried it, but by devoting to it an hour or two at a time a great deal can be accom- plished in the course of a few weeks and without undue strain on the eyes, It there is any doubt about the vital- ity of the seed, a test should be made betere the winter is very far advanc- ed. While the laboratories ofthe Domin- ion Government are always available for farmers who desire to have an of- ficial report on their grain, any one can make a test for himself without delay by placing about two hundred seeds between layers of blotting paper or cloth, and keeping them damp for a few days. An ordinary dinner plate is very handy for this purpose, with another plate set on it in reversed position. . or The grain after being must not be allowed to become dry, and must not be exposed to frost. After about six days the sprouts from the seed of strongest vitality + od will be sufficiently developed. Seeds | which take an unusually long time to sprout generally give weak plants, If less than about ninety per cent of the seed produces strong sprouts, it will be necessary to sow such an increased = quantity as will bring the s vital kernels up to the usual number | Pe Maceo of : : ange of Seed.--The best advice regard to change of seed Change only when you a you are getting something jor to your old stock. grein should : to + free distribution of samples of seed i grain will be made from this Farm for the season of 1917. Farmers who desire to test some other variety than those they are already familiar with | may obtain a free sample in this way. i The quantity of seed supplied is B pounds in the case of wheat, barley and peas and four pounds in the case of oats. Only one sample of grain will be sent to each farm: For an application form, write to the Domin- jon Cerealist at Ottawa. No postage is required.--C. E. Saunders, Dominion Cerealist, Ottawa. Adding Fibre to the Soil Everyone who has had experience in breaking up new land has noticed how soon the rich black mould disap- pears after the soil has been brought | under cultivation." The reason for this is that the vegetable. matter in | such soil has been reduced to humus -- i Pa (OISSSTISTISIINISITTITISSITSISOR { ed Rh ~ 3 \ \ N) N 172 A of a very~tnstaple condition. It is readily attacked by bacteria and brok- en down so that soon not a trace of it is to be found. The exclusive grow- ing of grain crops, so general on new, land and by which but little vege- table matter is returned to the soil, hastens this process of depletion. The, process is also most rapid in soils tha are naturally rich in lime, a this ne tralizes the acids formed by the deca; of humus and provides ideal wor conditions for the organisms that break down organic matter, In restoring humus to the soil by growing of legumes, the plowing of green crops-and the application manure, vegetable matter of a mi fibrous nature than that which ii \ on the forest floor, is added. 1 not readily reduced - to humus. contains considerable cellulose. woody matter, which offers c able resistance to the attacks bacteria of decay. is fi ter, when added to t! store of vegetable matter, which broken down inte humus and into available plant food very gradual ly. Vegetable matter from this oi does not disappear from the soil as rapidly as the humus found in newly, cleared land. Permanent produc-| tivity in soil demands a this fibrous material. : referee The Ideal Citizen. "I neither argue politics nor re ligion, but I'll tell you what I do." "ry vote ahd go to chee" supply of Some women are as flighty a somes'. soil, provides a