a ES P teen happy, 100. Or, The Curse A SHADOWED PATH: ©OOCOGOO Of The Family ¢ i CHAPTER X1.--(Continued). _ Llandy! Hall was the one plank which Blood between Mr. Renelle and abso- lute want; and this plank Mr. Mazing- ford had the power to pull from beneath his feet at any moment he pleased. "I am too old," Mr. Renelle said one morning, "to go back into the world's strife, and bear the heat and burden pf the day; and besides, when I was }eunger, I made nothing by the attempt yet still 1 know you ought to be re- Paid." "I do not want the principal--at least, Bt present,' returned Mr. Mazingford, sng amiable consideration; "all 1 de- re is a fair interest thereon, Now, @an you ensure me that interest?" "Not unless my family starve," an- @wered Mr, Renelle. There was a long pause, which was ®roken at length by the owner of Wa- Four Hall, "Do you know, Renelle, I think it would be a good thing for you to ook fairly at your position, and really to e how you are situated,' Mr. Maz- gford began. "You owe me, in round Bumbers, something more than the whole of your property would fetch, if jt were sold to-morrow; you have not fhe remotest prospect «of repaying me my money; and, it seems; there is no chance of interest either. Your jand, for want of culture, is every day de- feriorating in value--in fact, it is now almost worthi¢ss. We may give up the coal-mine as a mistake. Your acres seem to me to be returning you next to nothing; and if it were not for Miss Ridsdale, I do not believe you could meet mere household expenses. Now, supposing that she were to die or mar- ry, which first must be some day-- which last might be any day--you would bo at once. deprived of her annuily, which, small as it is, has been your trump card for years past. Thus, setting me out of the question altogether, you see your case is not encouraging; and putting me into it--your position be- comes desperate." Mr. Renelle inclined his head by way of assent; it was scarcely a proposition to which a man could be expected to relurn a verbal answer. "Suppose, again," resumed Mr. Maz- ingford, "that during your lifetime | were to allow that money to remain on the property at merely nominal in- ferest--that, in brief, I were not to ha- rass you on the subject at all, but to leave the question for future discussion --still, when, after your decease, my claim is settled, and Miss Ridsdale's as- sistance perhaps withdrawn--what, 1 ack you, is to become of your children?' "T don't ow," replied the victim, hopelessiv; stephen is not----" "Peoh! To was not thinking of him. Stephen is a man, and no man possess- ed of hands and arms, and youth and strength, need ever go begging. I meant your daughters, Renelie--what is here- after to become of them " "What is the use of asking?" retorted Mr. Renelle, with a sudden fierceness, which showed how tender a spot had teen touched by no gentle finger; "when you know I can return no satisfactory answer to the question? With breken health and ruined fortune, how can 1 ensure them dowries? I am powerless ---what can I do?" ~"Lillle, perhaps, but slill something," as the cool reply. "I want to place matter before you in a fair light, _ that you may understand me clearly as I go along. Lilandy! Hall, we may - consider gone--Miss Ridsdale, doubtful. What then, I ask again, remains for your daughters?--they cannot be gover- nesses, or servants, or clerks, or labor- as Lilian cannot, of course, seek an "asylum in matrimony; and Judith, it seems to me, is not very likely to con- fract, under any circumstances, a good alliance here. How, therefore, are they to be supported?" Mr. Renelle did not even attempt lo reply to this question. At any rate, he held his peace, and the other pro- "1 confess I see bul one way oul of the difficulty." He paused for an instant; but Mr. Renelle never inquired what that way might be, "Which is,' continued Mr. Mazing- ford, "for my godrdaughter to become my wile?" ' "Judith--wont--marry," said Mr. Re- n¢lle, "\Von't marry!' echocd Mr. Mazing- ford; "and pray, in Ileaven's name, if she gel the chance, why nol? Old as he was, the girl's father felt a longing to pitch his questioner out «ft the window; but he controlled his d per, ond ahswered-- Rotitise, as you well know, my poor thild's heart is-lying in a grave under the elms of Llandy! Church," "And is she, consequently, to remain a pauper for life?" demanded Mr. Maz- 4ngford. "Has no woman ever married affer a love-cross?--ay, halk any sentimental nonsense; foe her, ing. 2 Pt him--for you have / belween me and no one." Kenelle. * fis visitor; "for hbelween me and no one tween me and beggary. reasonable man, to what I have to say and then' daa you like, 'If Judith we re ie cite" astances. "vailing, and work} won't bring E Pesidys, the half of All willoweavearing in = swith the world speedily + qs matters stand at present, Very well: now covery, We before and I am not going to but > gull, I think I am quite as fond of Jud- ' iti as poor Lansing ever was, and, . what is more, can provide far better Had he lived, ten to one, you A would not have consented to their mar- -- riage; for he was as poor as Job, with- out manner, connection, anything, But fhe is dead, so there is no use in talk- 2 now to choose not between me and him, but "7 do not wish to choose," said Mr. "But, sir, you must choose," retorted means, in straightforward _English, be- Listen, like a rapa Wor Vie ap ge 'maiden, she ot be Oyo Srcehapier than she 1 65-" wits, even under the. worst {he weeping and the ansingto life again, a young girl's love ~ mich a few years' intercourse ey ers epeodily dlapels' Evet therefore, $ uner by remaining single. ee ai having made that. dis- will take a look Into the fu- BEEEFEFF EEF E FE FE EFE FES FEEEEEE Sd dE Ftd tte Hod ture, She stands there, probably, with- eut a friend or a shilling--unaided- by a selfish brother, encumbered by a lame sister; unable to work, or starve, or beg--carrying her pride, and the mem- ory of a foolish love-dream about with hey, through every depth of poverty, every trial, every humiliation. But if she marry me, she is at once rescued from the phantoms of the past and the dangers of the future. She is not mere- Jy resuced from peénury, but placed in a position of affluence, surrounded by every luxury, comfort, and pleasure. :f she and you allow me, I will make her happier than she has ever been, AS a marriage gift, 1 will give you back the mortgage-deed on Llandyl Hall. You can come and live with Judith, if you like; she shall do precisely as she pleas- es; and----" "For Heaven's sake, do not tempt me!" interposed Mr. Renelle. "lam not tempting you--I am only laying two pictures before you for con- sideration," returned Mr. Mazingford. "Point both out to Judith; tell her fairly and frankly how you are situated, and what 1 have proposed--and. then decide as you think best." "Judith would never-----" commenced Mr. Renelle, "Possibly not, in her present frame of mind," hastily interrupted the other; "put a word from you would be suffi- cient to alter that. Use your influence over her, and her happiness and peace are ensured, May I trust to your doing this?" "No," answered Mr. Renclle, and the monosyllable was decidedly uttered; "no; I cannot urge her one step along the road to matrimony. I will never force her into if. She shall do in that re- Spect precisely as she pleases. I will use no arguments, no entreaties--sho may marry you or not, just as she likes, but I will never force her to be your or any man's wife." "1 do not wish you to force her. -- 1] enly want you to----" began Mr. Maz- ingford. But Mr. Renelle interrupted him with-- "Please do not talk any more about it, Mr. Mazingford; the subject distress- es me. I never feel well, now; and the least excitement, the least discussion, makes me worse." So saying, he rose, as if to leave the room; but he had not taken three steps towards the door before he staggered, and would have fallen, but for Mr. Mazingford's timely assistance. "What can I do?" inquired that gen- tleman, when he had carried him back to his chair; "what can I get you?" "Call Judith," whispered the old man; "she knows." Mr. Mazingford knew more, however; and after he had summoned the girl, he went off himself in search of a doc- tor. "T am afraid it is all up with Mr. Re nelle,' he said, to the family physician; "the symptoms you spoke of have ap- peared." "A few weeks, then," said the doctor, as he hurriedly put on his overcoat; "1 fear, that is the most we can hope for; but we will see--we will see." And sc saying, he strode out of the house, and away up the valley, and so af last into Llandyl Hall, where he found his patient undressed and in bed. Judith administertd to her father a double dese of a draught he had been in the habit of taking for some time past, and the old man was better again. "Mr. Renelle will not be here in a 'month's time,' whispered the doctor to Mr. Mazingford ere he left the house. "If he wish to make any disposition of his property, he ought to do it at once." Having received this piece of infor- ration, Mr. Mazingford took a useful hint therefrom, and sedeously conceal- el] the extent of his danger from Mr. Renelle, till he was totally incapacitat- ed for any temporal business; and, moreover, he devoted himself with such zeal to supplying the invalid's wants. and anticipating his demands, that Jud- ith absolutely began to feel grateful to- wvards him. Admirably he acted his part; simulat- ing an anxiety he never experienced, a pity he did not feel. Very delicate and tender, too, he seemed to Judith, during those bitter hours of trial--and in that last bitterest one of all, when. her. fa- ther died, with his head resting on her breast, and her hand clasped convul- sively in his. He knew perfectly well how matters would work now Mr, Renelle was dead and buried; he did not feel the least Stephen's hands--nor need he, for Ste- vhen did much better for him than he could possibly have done for himself. It is marvellous to observe how rapid a change may be wrought by the re- moval of the head of a family; it was little short of miraculous, to see how speedily an alteration was accompli: hed immediately after Mr. Renelle's death, in the interior of Llandyl Hall. For there, Stephen was lord and mas- ter now; his father having died intestate, the young man instantly laid hands on the freholkd acres, and trees and house, and appurtenances thereunto belonging; proclaiming himself heiratlaw of ev+ erything, and told Judith she should soon sce "who was master now!" Yes, she did see, very speedily, a great deal more than was either good cr pleasant; for Stephen, being mon- arch of that small territory, made his sister "find her level" in an incredibly short space of lime. A little queen, over loving subjects|, she reigned no longer. Stephen took the management of everything out of her hands; ground the househo!d expenditure down to ils minimum figure; dismissed the old Welsh prophetess to an asylum amongst her own kindred, packed Judith's faith- ful nurse out of the house, and substi- tuted in her place a rude, country girl. All this was done, Miss Ridsdale saw perfectly well, to mortify Judith and herself; but she never expected that Stephen would take an early opportunity of informing her he required: her room, and should prefer it, as a whole, to her company. She had fancied her income would have proved a weleoome addi- tion to his; but in this she was mis- taken; for Mr. Mazingford having hint- ed to Stephen, that if he could get Judith to marry him, the mortgage-deed should be cancelled, the young man deemed it was best have that little matter settled as spiguily as possible; and con- sidering Miss Ridsdale an. obstacle in pis path; he removed her thence, as he did all other obstacles, sans ceremonie. The lady dared not burden herself with the support of her two nieces, but she bade the younger be of good cheer-- and taking, as a farlorn hope, a bundle of the girl's rejected manuscripts with her, set drearily out for London. Then, and not till then, began the great warfare of Judith's life--a cease- less battle for herself and sister, waged against her brother. Before three months were over, Stephen and she had done everything but come to blows. Llandyl Hall was a battle-field, on which Judith would not have tarried for a single night had it not been for the sake of her poor, suffering sister. But Stephen, knowing the vulnerable point, probed Judith's spirit through Lilian. The comforts she required were denied tc her; she, who had always heretofore been so tenderly cared for, and thought fully treated, was now called a burden, and a fine lady. Fact was, Stephen wanted to get rid of both his sisters and the mortgage-deed at once; and provided the end desired were compass- ed, he scrupled very little at the means. Judith was no match for her 'brother, now her father had departed from her side; between him and Lillian, she was tortured and tormented; one minute, Stephen almost made her vow to' leave the house, for ever--while the next, Lil- lian detained her in it. Love for the dependent creature, who clung to her so confidingly, was the one restraining influence over Judith's heart; but, day and night, she thought what could she de to support Lillian and herself? was there no profession open to her, no trade, no anything? Had she stood perfectly alone in the world, she would not have feared; but with Lillian, she dared not cast herself adrift on @ strange and unknown sea. London, and authorship, had), at one period, been the hope and stay of her existence; but Miss Ridsdale wrote her word to bear anything sooner than at- tempt it. "1 cannot get a single article accept- ed," she said; "I fear, my child, you hesitation about leaving his affairs 'n. must give il up. Even I, who have been doing a litNe for so many years, can scarcely make five pounds in as many months. Perhaps things may, in time, improve at Llandy! Hall; meanwhile, be patient, if you can." . But Judith could not, There was not a wild plan that she could imagine, but seemed feasible for a few minutes; and once she absolutely put on her bonnet and shawl, and walked over to the Ree- tory, where with tears in her eyes, she besought Mrs. Berbige to take her as servant--whereupon the Rector insist- ed on her remaining with them and went to Liandyl Hall for the purpose of remonstrating with . Stephen, who curtly requested the clergyman to "mind his own business;" further advising the worthy man not "to burn his fingers in 6ther people's fires. And as to Judith," continued the hopeful heir of the Re- nélles--tell her to come back here at once; or stay, I'll go myself and fetch her, for she is still under age, and J am her natural guardian; and until she is one-and-twenty, I should like to see the man dare interfere between us." "Her unnatural guardian, I think you mean, Mr. Renelle,' remarked the cler- gyman; to which observation, however, Stephen only replied by a snecr. Once Mr. Mazingford came over and enjoyed the fray immensc y, though he saw, comparatively, nothing of it. He made no proposals to Judith, however; was simply her god-father, and no more, Of the two, indeed, he paid more attention to Lillian than to her. He snubbed Stephen repeatedly, and. there rcigned during his stay almost a peace in the land, But his visit was very short, and Judith felt sorry when he de- parted. Mr. Mazingford rightly described Liandy] Hall as "a hell upon earth;" but yet there was little choice betwixt himself and Stephen Renelle; they were demons of a different sort, that was all --only, as he bore the smoother surface to the world, and was, moreover, capi- tally gilded, the world thought better of him than it did of his god-daughter's brother. Stephen was the rough dia- mond, Mr. Mazingford the polished stone; but both equally competent to cut their way through any opposing substance by fair means or foul. . The most remarkable difference between the two was, that the Wavour Hall monarch preferred gentle means, whilst Stephen had a predilection for harsh proceed- ings. At all events, when, during the course ef the autumn following her father's death, Mr. Mazingford invited Stephen and Lillian, and Judith to come and spend a fortnight at Wavour Hall, the younger sister put her veto on the mat- ter, by stating that "go she would not under any circumstances." "We'll see to that," retorted Stephen, and there the discussion ended; but when the girls retired to rest that night, Lillian, poor cripple, put her arms round her sister's neck, and said-- "Judith, should you think me very selfish, if, for my sake, I asked you to go to Wavour Hall?" There was silence for a few minutes, during the continuance of which Judith was waging one of those fierce con- flicts with her own spirit that had lat- terly become of almost daily occurrence. "If you wish it," she answered, "! will do whatever you wish, Lillian." "There is a clever Joctor lives near Wavour "Hall; I want to see him. Mr. Jones says I had better sce him;" and the invalid, who had never known the blessings of health, laid her cheek soft- ly and daprecatingly against her sis- ter's. as she spoke. Judith did not reply; perhaps she could scarcely have told herself! why she took Lillian. in her arms, and held her there tightly, as if she thought to preserve her from sorrow or harm, (To be Continued.) Yo WAITING FOR THE SIGNAL. At a series of races "for all comers," the sun was blazing down on a field of hot, excited horses and men, all waiting for a tall, raw-boned beast to yield to the importunities of the starter and get into line. -"Bring up that horse!" shouted the starter. "Bring him up!" "T can't," yelled back the rider of the refractory beast. "This here's been a cah-horse, and he won't start till he hears the door stiut, and I ain't got no door!" The average rigidity of the earth is the same as that of a ball of steel of similar size, BRITAIN"S NEW PREMIER HERBERT DO. ASQUITH HAS A COLD MANNER. Married One of the Most Brillian Wo- men in England--An Interesting Career. Mr. Herbert I. Asquith, who has been called by the King to succeed Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman as Pre- rmiier of Great Britam, has* been char- acterized by Sir Charles Dilke, assur- edly by no mean judge in such matters, as the greatest Parliamentarian in the United Kingdom. No man in English public life has a eolder mianner or a kinder heart. He ig wholly lacking in cordialily, nor has he any trace of that personal magnet- ism which some consider, and wrongly so, as indispensable to a polilical lead- er. But he impresses one by his extra- ordinary lucidity of ulterance and of intellect. His absence of humor is more than counterbalanced by his con- vincing cleverness, and he possesses in an altogether pre-eminent degree that one virtue of all others which the Eng- lish speaking races value so highly in their public men, that is to say, safe- ness. There is no danger of his. ever being carried away by emotion, of his deferring to mere sentiment, or of speaking on the impulse of the moment. In fact, no one credits him with any such thing as impulse, in the sense of its subordination to cold logie and rea- sen, and the hopes and expectations which were formed by his friends and acquaintances concerning him when he tcok to golf that it would inevitably re- sult in his learning to swear, have not been realized. HIS BRILLIANT WIFE Probably it was just because of these peculiar characleristics that he was cble to secure the heart and hand of one of the most brilliant women in Lcendon society, who is his antithesis in every respect, who is brimful of wit and of humor, possessed of such mag- netism as to render men such as Ar- thur Balfour, Lord Tennyson, and Wil- tam E. Gladstone her most devoted ad- mirers and subject to her sway, and who, known from one end of Europe te the other prior to her marriage as Miss Margot Tennant, is familiar to many people in America through her pertrayal as "Dodo" in the popular novel of that name which first made the literary reputation of its author, Edward Frederick Benson, younger son ot the late Archbishop of Canterbury. Miss "Jack" Tennant is understood to have rejected innumerable offers of marriage before astonishing not only her friends and acquaintances but likewise the public through becoming the second wife of Herbert Asquith, a self-made man in every sense of the word, without any special comeliness, birth, or fortune, and, moreover, handi- capped in a matrimonial sense by a family of six children, issue of-a former marriage. It is difficult to say whether it was the glaring contradiction between their temperamental characteristics that first fatiracted Margot Tennant to Herbert Asquith, or whether it was that, with Eer clever feminine intuition, she pene- trated the qualities of heart that were concealed under his cold academic ex- terior, and foresaw already, four- teen years ago, that he was destined one of these days to become the Prime Minister of the British Empire. Whatever the cause of her attraction, it cannot be denied that the union has turned out a happy one in every re- spect, and that, while the wit, the humor, the amusing persiflage, and, above all, the great magnetism of Mrs. Asquith serve to counteract the chilli- ness of manner of her husband and to altract those. who might otherwise be repelled by his icy reserve, he, on the other hand, has invested her with what may be described as an intellectual ballast which she lacked as a young girl. HIS SCHOOLBOY DAYS. Herbert Asquith is to-day 56 years of age and is the son of a manufacturer in a small way at Morley, a little un- important town in Yorkshire. His fa- ther was far from rich, and, destining bim to a commercial career, sent him to the city of London school, where he distinguished himself as a scholar, but not as a schoolboy. That is to say, he showed no taste whatsoever for the sports and games of the Institution, made few friends, and when by senior- ify and pre-eminence in his studies he should have been chosen for the posi- tion of captain of the school, was re- peaicdly rejected by his fellow pupils in the elections for that office owing to his unpopularily. He carried off, however, all the school prizes, including an Oxford university scholarship, and, entering Baliol Col- lege, from which so many men of mark have graduated, became one of its most brilliant lights, one of the bright par- ticular stars of Dr. Jowett, ils famous master, achieving a degree of prestige among his fellow students which led te their eventually electing him presi- dent of the celebrated debating club known as the Union. Having thus made his' mark. at Ox- ford, he proceeded to study for the bar, {) which he was called in 1876, and was, thanks to the name which he had won for himself at the university, suecess- fu: from the outset in obtaining briefs; so much so that in the following year he was enabled to resign his Oxford fellowship, which assured him an in- come of $2,000 a year, in order to marry the daughter of Frank Melland, of Ox- ferd, and, from a social point of view, remained for a number of years wholly unknown to the great world of London. GAINED GLADSTONE'S GOOD WILL. Asquith had already previusly com- mended himself to the good will of Gladstone by preparing for his private information a ciear and convenient statement of the law in the Charles Bradlaugh controversy, and was_there- fcre welcomed by him when he secured election to Parliament as a member of the Liberal party after -the latter's memorable defeat on the Home Rule hill some 20° years ago. It was in the House of Commons, even more than at {he bar, that he showed his cleverness. He spoke seldom, but when he spoke it was 'always to the point with a mas- terful command of his subject. So well did he do that when the Urionist Government was defeated in 1892 he was put up by Gladstone to move its rejection from office. Hip main point of attack was Joseph Cham- berlain.. It was a wonderfully able attack and a crushing indictment; not a word too much, and, withal, char- acterized by a certain indefinite mod- ecty. It was the speech of his life and fulfilled all the expectations of the grand old man, who, on forming his Cabinet, rewarded him by confiding to him the portfolio of Secretary of State for the Home Department. AT THE HOME OFFICE. Though new to office he proved a great success, and displayed not only much skill but also an altogether un- suspected amount of tact in dealing with the labor troubles, the Trafalgar square meetings, and the cab strikes, which had been keeping London on a ferment for a number of years. More- over, he inaugurated some remarkable and effective factory legisintion tend- ing to the improvement of the working classes, at the same time reorganizing the entire system of factory inspec- tion. Indeed, his administration of the Home Office remains on record as the most successful in every respect of any during the last 30 or 40 years. On the formation of the Adminis- tration by Sir Henry Campbell- Bannerman, Asquith was appointed Chancellor . of the Exchequer. As- quith is Sir Henry's natural sueces- scr, and, while there are plenty of men among the members of his party who have no fondness for him personally, yel one and all are compelled to ad- mit his superior qualifications for the post, qualificatons whch commend him alike to his Sovereign and to all factions of the Liberal camp. HIS OUTWARD APPEARANCE. Asquith is not good-looking. His face has been justly described as hard and parchmenty; the face of one who might have been fed upon the calf binding of Blackstone or Coke, mingled © with regouts made up of blue books, -- His figure is stiff and stocky. Nor does he improve his appearamce by the display of any care in dress. In fact, he is jusly reputed as one of the shabbiest garbed men in Parliament--this, too, in spite of the efforts of Mrs. Asquith to keep him well groomed, e Massees cee Solemn Man--"Do you hear the clock ticking slowly? Do you know what day tt is ever bringing nearer?" Cheerful Man--"Yes; pay day." +> t : + BAFAFTF +++ 44444444444 SEED OATS. Last year upwards of 2,700,000 acres were. used in Ontario for the cultiva- tion of oats, This area is three times as large as that used for any other cereal grown in the province. A return of 40 bushels an acre would give 4 total yield of 108,000,000 bushels. This could be largely increased by the use of better seed. At the Ontario Agriculture College for the past flve years some varieties of cats have yielded 102 bushels to the acre, while others, have run as low as 56 bush- els to the acre. The variety sown is not the main thing, however.. The yield de- pends to a large extent upon the qualily of the seed itself. It would be possible not only to Increase the yield of oats in Ontario by several million bushels annu- ally, as well ds greatly improve the qual- ity of the crop by using better seed. Every precaution should be observed when selecting seed oats. Oats contain- ing barley, wheal, wild oats, or other foreign grain, should not be used for secding purposes. Dirty seed means a Girty crop, and seed weak in vitality will result in an. inferior harvest. Foreign material in the marketable product con- siderably depreciates the value of the oats when being offered for sale. There- fore we cannot lay too much stress upon the importance of using only the cleanest of seed oats. Heretofore we have been accustomed to sow our oats upon our poorest fields, Think what it would mean to us finan- cially if we would place our best flelds at the disposal of our oat crop, for in the long run oats are one of the most profitable crops the farmer can grow. A large share of the surplus oat erop is exported. Large quantities are used in the manufacture of oat meal both for home consumption and export. The de- mand for this purpose is increasing, and could be increased still more if farmers would give closer attention te producing oats of the highest quality. For oalmeal purposes the crop must be clean and of the very best quality, LHPALAFALA THAD E PE AHH THE FARM WORK HORSE. The spring season is a trying one on farm work horses. Usually they are idle during the winter, and should not be worked too hard al the commencement cf seeding. If before the spring work be- gins, horses have had a few weeks' train- ing in some light work they will render better service and come through the seeding operations 'in better condition. Many colts are put to work for the first time in the fields in the spring. These slould be handled with the greatest care. The initial work they do should be light and increased as the colts become ac- customed to hard work. . The value of a colt may be decreased 50 per cent. by injudicious treatment when put to work. They cannot stand the hard work of the trained horse. While it is advisable that the older horse be toned up to the work, it is infinitely more so tha. the colt should be so treated.) Many an otherwise good colt has been spoiled during two er three weeks' hard work in the field when the spring rush is on, by not being carefully treated. After the winter idleness horses' shoul- ders are more or Jess tender. Care should be taken that the collar fits prop- erly and is in clean condition. Especi- ally should the shoulders of the young horses be watched to prevent abrasions and soreness. A strong solution of white oak bark rubbed on, will harden them somewhat, and there will be less danger of their becoming fender. Careful grooming, as well as careful feeding Is. necessary to keep horses in cendition at this season. ee ulia Soa Mother: "I.am sorry to hear that Tom- my Smith tied a kettle to a poor dog's tail. You wouldn't do such a_ thing, would you?" Bobby: "No, indeed, mother." Mother: "Why didn't you stop him, Bobby?" Bobby: "I couldn't mother; I was holding the dog." Rill: Is #t true that heat ascends?" Jill: "Oh, yes; that is why so many hotheaded -- ' dye NITY ELA cn i HAD ALL THE men get cold feet."