Monkton Times, 27 Mar 1908, p. 5

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©6008 _ Or, The Curse i A SHADOWED PATH: | | | ¢ faTOLE IO) Of The Family CHAPTER VII.--(Continued), Pela clergyman used from the casement with a rplexe sigh, for the young henuly pas ea _ too good to style a mere tool of the Evil One, being almost as perfect men- tally, as might have proved the caso _ had she been plain as his own wile and seamed with the smallpox into the bargain. Judith Renello.was an excep- "tion fo every unpleasant rule--she puz- zled everybody, and no wonder, So lib- eral and frank-hearted, albeit the daughter of Mr. Henry Renelle; so ac- tive and healthy, and yet the sister of a delicate cripple; so gay, although born in that desoiste, gloomy mansion, on 3 ht--w the storm-fiends held jubilee together; so Clever~and accom- plished, notwithstanding she had never crossed the mountains, nor been to school, nor journeyed thirty miles from - home in her life; so capable of winning affection; so cheerful and light-hearted nd loveable, and still the same of Whom it had been prophesied by one, whose word had never before been ut- fered in vain, that her life would be a@ hard and weary struggle: that with hands upraised against every one, with sorrow, and grief dogging her footsteps, she should pass to an early grave, bat- ting her way. ~ She puzzled everybody; even the old enone who had croaked forth her note - of ill-omen over the~-unconscious in- fant, that night when a fresh soul was born into the world--Judith puzzled even her. "Tt is before her yet," she would say to those who rejoiced over the failure of the prediction; shaking her head mysteriously, and looking away with bieared eyes into the distance of time, as though the future had been a sort ef flat landscape, over which she could gaze and track out the route of each individual across it. "It is before her yet--let her beware!" _ And the old woman repeated this cau- tion so offen to Judith, that the girl grew weary of it. "But what am I to take such care of?" demanded the young lady,~upon one occasion. "Of what you are Coing," replied the other. "Look for once fairly into your own heart, and learn what is in-it, and then do right. I know you don't like 10 hear about what you call superstition, Miss Judith," the woman _ continued, throwing aside her mysticism. as she beheld a richer color than usual mant- fing in the girl's cheek: "and perhaps if 1 tell you the truth in a different way you will listen to me. Some people dike to take it out of one glass, and Bome out of another, so I will speak = fel say there was a look in} : cé-the night you came into this -world, just like what four sisters I once new bore in theirs, a'l through their sinfancy. Yes, four of them, and you Nave that in you they had in them. I Hiave watched you day by day, and I know it." : "And if f have, what then?" demanded © Judith; who, conscious, pcrhaps, of the weak spot. felt no inclination to press for a clearer explanation. *Root it out, as you would some pois- onous plant; if you have any fear in you--any dread of a wretched future-- any desire for peace and happiness, root it out!" "Why should 1?' persisted the other. "That your life may in no single re- spect resemble theirs," was the reply. -- "What happened them?" asked Judith. | What happened them!" repeated the | "old woman, pressing her sk nny hands' almost conyulsively together; "years to turn away tion. © stories of those women's lives, of the way their haughty: spirits were bent, "their strong hearts broken, might wring tears from stone. They could love, "pnd they did so, with the whole force of their souls. and yet not one of them married for it, The eldest and the hand- "somest vowed before Heaven to honor and obey a man she hated--a cold, "heartless, selfish creature, who treated her like a slave. (ill the day of her death, "which came not an hour too soon. The "noxt first jilted a poor sultor, then mar "ried a rich one, and finally soparaled rom him; she brought sorrow and ag- ny to more hearts than her own-- made "more unhappiness in-more homes than "could well be believed. dead Now, so 1 will talk no more aboul her "to you, for it is a story [ do not care Pfo think of. The third of these sisters She "is mMever wedded at all-why, she knew " ~best--and the fourth---- wee The woman paused, and Judith im- : 'en! emanded, "Weil?" Bees tourih" she pursued, "had her "tale thrust upon her by her own char- "acter, rather than by her own sys her €nd yet still she made a good deal : {i for herself, and a great deal was mat : for her by (the other sisters. She found her fale: some say. because of home harshness; others, because of a BY eross; a few, because she wanted { 3) ee "der her condition; let that he as it w a one thing is certa:n, she marvied 8 je eS Jous miser, who prought her Seen! ' "a lonely house, and crushed acy anit and broke her heart and killed her. a "avas.so faled for all of them: and vik &lill, T>repeat, they all. cast Papen haps, the youngest, made their pas Oia? firely for themselves. rake SD a ts Judith, I say again. for the sgnié mee "which crushed their lives ' n you also. The last. of the <fotr wos sour ee : three ror ft =. 0 -- er. three your eae i pefore you. whien There is a sage : ould net go birth ec] 4 Powia. read er I can, unless you take "heed in time.- Don't remember, my words when it 1s too late, but lay them . " ; . ae: i ging by the girl's face she did Jay here A heart just then, but if was merely for the motnent; for it seemed impossible to the fy, yant spirit that she should aver strickan by caro; that with upra to mect if you ds, a ote from her, a home aj $ Sagrel she howtit ever © oe ~ through life--she who tad al to a welcome and 4 emite an. she turned, and hed never 3 + with llving mortal, savé per p ber wart brother, Stephen;---with me éhe had indeed hatiled and fough =. bally, and hy might of hand, since ae F444 t+444+44444444444444 t44444444444444444444 day she first flew at him, when only four years of age, and twisted her fin- gers in his hair, and pulled it, spite of kicks and thumps, till the lad of ten absolutely yelled with pain. Since then, up to her seventeenth winter there had been a perpetual series of petty skirmishes betwixt the pair; for the warm, daring generous nature of the sister, and the mean, suspicious Sneaking character of the brother, agreed like flre and water; they never came into contact with Jone another w:-thout a terrific hiss and a splutter ensuing. "IT wish I had the strength to beat you well, Stephen," she said, one day, afler some controversy, more violent than usual, when both had arrived at what might have been considered years «Ct discretion, "Iam sure you don't want the will," he retorted; "but I cannot see what good it would do you," "It might not do me any geod, nor you any good," she replied, "but. still 1 would dé it for the mere pleasure, I 4m sure, if I had been a man, I should have killed you long ago." "It is fortunate, then, you are not," replied Stephen, who, whilst his sis- {er's eyes were sparkling, and her cheeks ctrimsoned with anger, could outward- ly remain quite calm, with a sneer on his lips, and without a trace of height- ened color in his face. "Fortunately for myself, perhaps, but not for the world at large," said Judith, flouncing suddenly out of the room, to end a contest in which she felt she should be certain to come off second best. "It is of no use quarrelling with Ste- phen, papa," she was wont to say; "be- eiuse I cannot hurt him either bodily ee mentally, and he comes out so quiet- ly with speeches that make me perfect- ly wild, and stays quite calm no mat- ter what answers I make. It is of no manner of use quarrelling with him." "Then why do you quarrel with him, my dear?" "Because I cannot help myself; if we eould once have it fairly out--a real war of words or hands--if I could nip and pinch and box him now as I did when I was a little girl, I think should feel the better for it." "Judith, Judith," said her father, shak- ing his head. "Only once, papa; bul if I could over- throw his imperturable composure, even for an inslant--take him out of himself, and make him look like any- body else--it would satisfy me for ever 'after." "Tf you are quite sure of that, Judith, tl is a pity you do not declare war at ionce, in order that we may have @ speedy peace." "And so I would this minute, only that he is twice as strong as I am, and I should be sure to get the worst of the battle." "Mm that case then, had you not better yield?" " "yield, sir!" she repeated; "yield!-- 1 would die sooner;" and then, when the old man looked sorrowfully at her, she would fling her arms about his neck and call him her own dear, good fa- "her, and push the grey hairs back from his forehead, and kiss his thin cheeks, and remind him Stephen was (he only person she ever did quarrel with. and finish by putting her hand en his shoulder, and oe him out * a ramble over the hills. Oe Mr. Renelle was satisfi: d, for he loved his daughter, and he did nol love his son--he clung to the impulsive be- ing who so little resembled himself; and turned coldly from the lad who was his fac-simile, only with the dark- upon years of misery, shame, humilia- | ep lines more strongly traced, with every What happened them!--oh,' the bad and unamiable characteristic more intensely developed, more mournfully apparent. He did not love his second whole strength of his nature; and Ju- dith, though she saw h"s faults--though she knew he could not bear to part with a shilling, amd was perfectly conscious ol his failings of temper, and errors of judgment--would have laid down her life for him. And Judith understood him; for she had such a simple, childish manner, and such an earnest woman's heart, that she could do with him what she chose, even to the extent of making the reserved man communicative; and so, sitting together on the summit of one of the steepest of the neighboring hills, gazing away over the landscape lying below, she got 'him, one lovely summer's day, to tell her his history, to tell her all which he had never men- tioned befcre to mortal. There was not much in it, merely an unsatisfactory catalogue of misfortunes and disappointments; he had not the art of making a story out of it; he re peated facts, but never attempted scenes; there was no enlargement, nor demanJ- for sympathy. The tale resembled evi- cence given to a jury by a witness on the table of a county court; he had not been accustomed to talk about himself, and the effort seemed strange to him; but still, at her request, he cast back his eyes to his boyhood, and stated every circumstance of his existence, just as it happened; and Judith with her usual quickness fitted the fragments to- gether, and made a life out of them; and when at last, being near the end, he said how his wife had never cared for him, there was such a touch of na- ture about his trembling voice, that Ju- dith, forgetting all his faults, and think- ing only of his lonely, desolate unhap- py existence, fairly covered her face with her hands. and wept. "If my mother were here now," she sobbed, "she would. love you; but as She is not, I will love you enough for both, enough to make up for all the long weary ifme when you had nobody to care for you." Would any one have known Henry Renelle then, as he clasped the speaker to his heart, and murmured forth a broken sentence to the effect that the only portion of happiness he had ever felt, had been conferred upon him by her, his Judith, his own dear, darling beautiful child? What a power she had over him! And as she advanced to the frontier lends of womanhood, she began to take an active share in domestic matters, and, like all very new and fresh, and good brooms, she swept remarkably clean. She carried the moth-caten draperies away from her father's rooms, she saved up the money her aunt from time tc time gave her, and bought white muslin and glazed calico, and put up snowy curtains in lieu of the old, faded damask, and made his bed-chamber really look quile cheerful with some bright carpeting and fresh hangings. She would sit sewing for the length of a day, looking so gay and happy, that you would have imagined it the most amusing occupation in the world; she washed the old portraits, frames and painting, and all, and if she did nething else, cleared the soot and smoke and dust effectually off them; she put flowers in the cracked china vases; she discovered a chest of ancient bro- cade dresses, some of which she altered for herse'f and Lillian, others wehereof she tore up into covers for the old gti!d- ee chairs; she discarded hosts of use- less rubbish, and had rooms washed and floors scoured, and tables polished, til. Llandyl Hall really put on an agree- able face once more. She got her fa- ther to help her in the garden, and to- gether they cleared away brambles, and evenings, she darned his clothes, "and manufactured all sorts of garments for him; her fingers were never idle, mend- ing, making,. patching, sewing on but- tons and inspecting holes, arranging sefas, and easy chairs and footstools in comfortable positions for poor lame Lillian; trimming lamps, that Lillian might see to read easily; singing old ballads for her, talking to her aunt, and trying to cook little dainties for all three. Judith Renelle never had a single unoccupied moment. She was as gay as a lark, and as busy as a bee. lifted. off the girl. She hoped, living iv that quiet country place, temptation would for ever be kept from her; and wght and morning she prayed that sor- row might be long a stranger to the gay young heart. ae CHAPTER VIII. Mr. Renelle was not the only person in existence who considered Judith "per- fect." There were others in the world who had long previously arrived at the same extravagant conclusion; and among those who admired her more than he ever previously admired any ef Eve's fair daughters, and who loved her about as well as he was capable of loving any woman, which, to say truth, happened to be very badly in- deed--was Mr. Lewis Mazingford, her godfather, During. the years if had required to convert Judith from a helpless infant in- to a very beautiful girl, time and death had done him the good service of re- moving Mrs. Mazingford from earth, and leaving him free once again, When Tizdith was almost sixteen, he became a widower of over forty summers, left by a generous wife in affluent circum- stances--at liberty to marry a second {ime for love, or beauty, or connection, ov anything he chose; but Mr, Mazing- ferd was not to be ensnared, even by manoeuvring mothers; or papas who vainly poured. out wine for him. He spent a deal of his time at Liandyl Hall, and tried to establish a closer connex- ion beiwixt himself and Judith than that ef godfather and god-daughter. She was the handsomest creature he had eyer seen--handsomer than her mother --handsomer than anybody. Dressed in the height ef the fashion, and glitter- ing with diamonds, there would not b: such another wife in England. He fancied her sitting at the head of his fable--imag ned the sensation she would produce. in London; scrutinized her manners, accent, carriage; and decter- mined she should be his wife. (To be Continued.) oe FES te +e ott eeteete+eoe About the Farm REFEH4EF E+ Fett tte steed VETERINARY WORK FOR DAIRYMEN S¢oter ere rs k++++++4He If a man is going to raise animals énd keep animals he needs to know something about ailments of animals. He must not think he is a veterinary simply because he has this knowledge and a few instruments. He won't be within five hundred miles of being one but he may be enabled to save himself a lot of money loss in live stock year- ly by owning the instruments I will briefly mention, says Dr. C. D. Smead. A horse or cow may be bloated, If taken in time by simply using a rectal syringe made for horses and cattle a Valuable animal's life may be saved. If the veterinary igs depended upon it would be dead long before the veterin- ary could be had. Cows may have an altack of parturi- ent apoplexy (milk fever) and die be- fore a veterinary could ke had when if the farmer has an air syringe milk fever device he can use it himself just as well as the veterinary and save his cow and the veterinary bills also. Cows will occasionally injure a quar- tev of an udder and some thick or trained roses, and grubbed down among | Stringy milk-may be the result. Unless dandelions and thistles and weeds of|this can be milked out or got out of all sorts, and they raked, and dug, and} delved, till Judith looked as brown all a berry and Mr. Renelle became quite | a practical gardener; and in the winter | the udder in some way the result will be the loss of the quarter either by gar- get or caseous hardening of the quar- ter.. Had the farmer a modern teat sy- tinge to wash out the milk cistern of the udder with warm water, with some common baking soda dissolved in. it the quarter could have been saved. A cow may have clover bloat and die before the velerinary surgeon can get there, when if the farmer had had a trocar he could save her life. A hard milking cow in many instances can be made to milk easily by a little slit made with a proper fistoury. Many a cow with an injured or lacerated teat loses it simply because the farmer has not "2 milk tube and a knowledge of how tte use it. Thirty-Eighth Annual Report TO JANUARY ist, 1908, OF THE Mutual Life of Canada HEAD OFFICE, = WATERLOO, ONT. Audited and found correct. J. M, SCULLY, F.C.A., : ; : : : = ES e : = ; { ae FH +4 44444444444 TH+ 4444444444444 4444544 pelf--but he idolized Judith. with the | trusted that the ban of their race was CASH ACCOUNT od GEO. WEGENAST, nee lied ae wate coches tne Mena + INCOME. DISBURSEMENTS. NET LEDGER ASSETS, December TO POLICYHOLDERS: Rist: 1906 ste aes ee acee as Oe Death Claims ....... ..$317,776.50 PREMIUMS: Matured Endowments . 178,785.00 First year ...... ++..8 230,636.63 Surrendered Policies .. 92,138.63 _ Renewals. is sav 2 ob, 019 022.77 SULPlLUS yok ae od ee vee OU, 000s19. ATU a5 <3 eee 3,450.00 Annuities <0. vecse es 2 10,014,938 --_--_ $ 680,220.30 $1,753 409.40 EXPENSES, TAXES, ETC .... «... ~ 383,081.33 Less Re-assurance 20,367.52 BALANCE NET LEDGER ASSETS, 1,733,041,88 December "Bist; -1907:<. cess sas . 11,069,846.22 INTEREST oo tenes eee eee 509 240.02 PROFIT CAND LOSS. sho sues eth 1,288.25 $12\134,047.85 $12,134 ,047.85 Se Fe cmannrnsy acon oy BALANCE SHEET ASSETS. LIABILITIES, Mortgages .... .... seeeeevecs $5;756,070.85 | Reserve, 4p.c:, 334p.c. and 3p.c. Debentures and Bonds .... .... es 3,593,965.84 Standard .... 'sve5 cess eeee os 910,019,563.89 Loans on Policies 3... ..e. see. 1,410,180.87 | Reserve en lapsed policies on which Premium Obligations .... .... .s. 22,534.21 surrender values. are claimable. AA7L.2A Real Estate (Company's Head Office) 30,875.79 | Death Claims unadjusted .... .....6 89,350.00 Cash in Banks 52 ois se 8 ¥aaaes 280,494.29 | Present value of death claims pay- Cash atsHead< OMe i256 as oe 1,505.19 able in instalments .... ...-.. 38,506.93 Due and deferred premiums, (net).. 319,277.97 | Matured Endowments, unadjusted . 1,693.45 Intcrest due and accrued .... sc. 241,554.91 | Premiums paid in advance coteleers 12,737.18 Due for medical fees and sundry accounts ake eho ed core 10,936.75 Credit Ledger Balances ,... ... a8 25,730.82 Surplus, December 31st, 1907 ...... 1,503,719.68 (Surplus on Government Standard of Valuation $1,897,358.28:) $11,656 409.92 $11,656 409.92 Auditor Managing Director. Waterloo, January 29th, 1908. New Business written (gain over 1906, $1,577,855) - - - $7,081,402 Insurance in force (gain over 1906, $4,179,440) - . - - $51,091,848 Surplus (gain over 1906, $300,341) - : - * " * $1,503,719 Booklets containing full report of the Annual Report, held March 5th 1908, are being publishee and will be distributed among Policyholders in due course. The treatment of parturient apoplexy af tapping a cow, is no more of a skil- ful operation than the hoeing of a hill of cucumbers, and you might with just SS much sense send to town for a man to come to hoe your peas and cucum- bers simply because you had no garden hoe as to send for a veterinary to tap a bloated cow or treat a cow for parturi- ent apoplexy simply because you had no fools. The whole kit can be bought fo: $12 and $10 and that is about what a velerinary has to charge you for two visils if he has te go five miles to make them. POULTRY AND EGGS. Mr. Edward Brown, secretary of the National Poultry Organization Society, of England, has prepared an exhaustive review of the work of his Society, and of the poultry-keeping pursuit gener- ally, during 1907.. His remarks, on the whole, are encouraging, the year, in the Old Country, in spite of the cold and welt spring and summer, having wit- nessed greater progress in the develop- ment of the pursuit than any preceding {2 months since the Society was estab- lished. He states that on all hands there is evidence that more and better fowls are kept than ever before, and that farmers are paying more attention to this branch of live stock, that there :s an increasing number of specialists {aking up the business on progressive lines, and that the demand for eggs end poultry increases rapidly, to an even greater extent than the supply. Steady increase in the number of fowls is anticipated wherever small holdings are formed. To obtain the best results af such development, however, the need for co-operative marketing will be in- creasingly manifest, and, therefore, every effort should be made to extend the co-operative system where the con- ditions are favorable. Mr. Brown. gives interesting figures, showing the con4 sumption of poultry and éggs in the United Kingdom, and the sources whence the supplies are drawn. of the total of fifteen million pounds' worth of eggs, nearly one-half is import- ed; but, of the four and a half million pounds' worth of poultry, less than a million pounds' worth comes from abroad, or, taking the aggregate of poultry. and eggs, which amounts to about twenty million pounds' worth steriing, eleven and a half million pounds' worth is produced at home, as against liftle more than eight million peunds' worth imported from the col- onies and foreign countries, FARM NOTES, We would not have the milkhouse larger than is really necessary for the successful handling of milk and but- ter. connection with the milk should find a place in the milkroom, Nothing but the utensils used in , and butter * By having. just the room we need, the : work of keeping in order will be less and we are not tempted: to give place to things which should, find room else- where. Whoever would Have sweet and wholesome butter must skimy the milk early after setting, and churn often. There is a great quantity of good but- fer in these two rules; as there is poor stuff in their neglect... The keeping of milk till it sours anises from a desire en the part of the ecomomical butter- maker, to get all the cream, forgetting that as soon as coagulation begins, the rising of: the butter globules ceases, as they cannot force their way up through the thickened milk, They can barely lift: themselVes,. and they cannot do this when the milk is thick or viscid (sticky), as it is ins the autumn and wine ter. The souring or coagulation of the milk begins at the: bottam, and so we: are worse deceived, and give more time for greater fermentation of the cream. , me na otha o ey ® ane eae an : GAMBIT, HAF NOALARUMS FRAU AN ae MBIT And her aunt, as she gazed upon her, VE VATCH HERR fe ea ig if Fetwicn SCH (f # fi a iad : Bee ath ae LOCHMEYER'S EXCITING Gd santana) 4 3 WCE $6 op? gE alah Mca cn an stn teh ee Rains aioe aii wh we peowweoe a ee ea ae a ip tt TN page ne oe gta aN i >

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