| fannd Madame Rachel with the child upon her knee, and they were looking at pictures together. After breakfast, John Downey, ihe gardener and groom, came and shoveled paths through the snow, and when this had been done, he came in to inform Hagar that he was going up into the "Square.‘" Was there any errand he could do ? The old servant was upon the point of answering in the negative, when the silvery notes of a childish laugh caught her ear, and she rememberâ€" ed a matter of which she had heard her mistress speak. _She bade John to wait while she went to see. She ‘‘Missus, John am aâ€"goin‘ upâ€" town, an‘ he says de we want anyâ€" ¥‘tagt‘ "I know of nothing, Hagar." EV o‘t p‘r‘aps you‘d like to send upr to de oberseers ob de poor." A quick flash suffused the worn face, and a fire of reproof was in the eye, as the lady replied : The days came and went, and Rachel St. Clait made no call upon the overseers. The snows of winâ€" ter lay without, and the keen, cutâ€" ting blasts swept through the branches of the trees, and around ths angles of the Brookside; but witk‘», a ray of sunshine hadâ€"come, which gave g‘â€"azess and joy. The "Dar‘s sumf‘n more; dar‘s more dan dat, depend upon it. If all ais yer love be a jump ob blind chance, den de seventh wonder ob de Kingdom am come, sartin sure. Bre’ss de Lord, what a cherub it is . ‘"‘When I wish for the overseers, Hagar, I will let you know." "I think it is very plainly to be seen, that her mother left her durâ€" ing helpless infancy ; and since that time she has probably been in the care of a nurse, or of some friend who has done the best she couldâ€" a nurse who had no mother‘s love to give, and so the child has come to give its little heart to whomsoâ€" ever can share its affection." Hagar was a philosopher, and she accepted the proposition of her misâ€" tress as a wise and astute judgâ€" ment ; and yet, as she bore the child from the chamber, she muttered to herself, as she looked down into the sweet face : "You‘ll bee my da‘ma, won‘t you ?"" "‘Then Teeny hasn‘t got any mamâ€" ma ?‘ ‘"‘No; only da‘ma.‘"‘ ‘"And where is Teeny‘s grandma There was a brief hesitation, and then the child looked up with â€"a chirping smile and threw its arms around Rachel‘s neck. ~ Rachel returned the kiss and the caress, and then said to Hagar : "G@amâ€"ma!‘‘ corrected the waif, giving the sound of the "g"" in her eager emphasis. "‘Where is your mamma? Does Teeny wart to go to mamma?‘ "‘Cause Teeny loves da‘ma." ‘‘Lord bress de child! what can possess it?" cried Hagar. â€"‘"She takes to ye, missus, as do‘ she‘d know‘d ye allers. Isn‘t it gur‘ us 1"" nc n dimps weecl l de ce c cmd nen UL in 1 3 Lips ‘‘And yet,"‘ explained Rachel, "it may be perfectly natural. Eviâ€" dently the child‘s parents had no band in leaving it here. I doubt if she ever knew a mother‘s love, or, at least, ever knew it to rememâ€" ber it." And Rachel lifted the litâ€" tle one up and kissed her. nurse, whom it had been wont to call "grandma.‘‘ Rachel resorted to a variety of expedients or tricks to gain heart to put the little one from her, to inspire it with dread or repugnance ; the result of which was that, after them all, the azureâ€" eyed seraph crept to her bosom and begged for love and a kiss. Rachel kissed her, and the kiss was sanctiâ€" fied by the first pure flood of tenâ€" «aer emotion that had welled up from the stricken heart for years. By and by, Hagar came into her mistress‘ chamber, for the purpose of assisting in washing and dressâ€" ing the little stranger; and she stood just within the door, and saw the child and the woman playing upon the bed; and over her ebon face shimmered a glow of joyâ€"light such as gleamed at one time in her past. ‘‘Now, go with Hagar, and be washed and dressed,""‘ said Rachel. ‘‘Teeny may come back?‘ sisted in calling her "grandma," and was as fond and affectionate and as confiding and trusting as though its infancy had been passed in her keeping. It was a puzzle to Rachel St. Clair, and she could oply account for it upon the supâ€" position that the child‘s mother â€" perhaps both parentsâ€"had died during its early infancy, and that it had since been cared for by strangers, very likely by some old With early dawn, Christine was up, chirping and singing, and smoothing the silver locks away trom Rachel‘s brow. . The child perâ€" Near to the Dbregs; Yes !"‘ CHAPTER II OR, SAVED BY THE LOVE OoF A wWOmAN. In society, Christine was courted and admired, and yet, never for a moment, at the call of friendship or pleasure, did she forsake her dear old mother when she thought her presence could give joy or reâ€" lief. She called Rachel St. Clair "mamma."‘ The word had dropâ€" ped first in loving musie, from her ewn desire of love, and Rachel had â€"lovely in repose and lovely whea the warm, inspiring smiles irradiâ€" ated their pure surface, and played around the bewitching dimples. Her eyes had gained depth and ferâ€" vor to their soft azure, and the gold ef the rich tresses had deepened to a warm, luxurious brown, which still shimmered with golden glow in the strong light. Her mind had grown and developed with her body. She loved nature, and loved to study and understand natural laws, not with that abstruse philosophizâ€" ing which delves and digs, but with the poetic and artistic aspiration which soars, and feels most satisâ€" fied when nearest Heaven. The love and the confidence beâ€" tween those two did not grow less. They rather strengthened and deepâ€" ened day by day. The child was bright and vigorous, possessed of perfect health, and a happy, gleeâ€" some disposition ; and Rachel was tender and considerate, accepting the charge as a blessing from Heaâ€" ven, sent to make sunshine for the evening of her days. She adopted the foundling as her own, and gave to it her name; and when, in time, the assessors came to take an inâ€" ventory of her estate, and would have passed on without referring to the matter of schoolâ€"children, she stopped them, and told them that there was one child in her family old enough to be classed, and she gave them the nameâ€"Christine St. Clair. So the seasons passed for fourâ€" teen years. Christine St. Clair, at the age of seventeen, was not only beautiful in form and feature, but her graces of spirit were nearly angelic. In height she was of that medium standard which seulptors select for their most womanly creaâ€" tions, and the outlines of her form were as perfect as the most serupuâ€" lous artist could have desired. Her features, taking the more delicate lines from the meek and gentle spirit within, where simply lovely Though Hagar persisted in the beâ€" lief that there was mystery in the love which her mistress felt for the sunnyâ€"haired child, and that there was also mystery in the confiding love which the child had first evincâ€" ed, yet others saw no mystery in B e tte ie ies o s . e oo c en t e 0 it at all. In little Christine they saw a heart made for love and deâ€" votion, and a spirit trustful â€"and affectionate, while in Rachel St. Clair they recognized the true woâ€" man, whose nature was love, and whose heart had only been shut up by the collapsing power of some great calamity, awaiting through ali the dark years for the coming of a bright spirit that might have power to open it. sweet prattle of the childâ€" awoke a rew song in the house, and smiles beamed where sadness had erst held its sway. On a certain evening, while Rachâ€" el sat before the blazing fire of the cheerful sittingâ€"room, with the chila perched happily by her side, the movement of something at one of the windows attracted her attenâ€" tion, and upon looking that way, she distinctly saw a human face peering in upon her. It seemed the face of a woman, dark and old, and quickly disappeared. Rachel sumâ€" moned ‘Tom, and sent him to look. He hurried out upon the snowâ€"covâ€" ered lawn, and found tracks leadâ€" ing from the window to the gate; and when he reached the gate, he fancied that he saw a dark form flitting away in the distance. If Rachel borrowed trouble from this event, it was only the shadow of a fear that some one might come with power to claim the child from her, for she had come to love the innocent waif very much. A single cirecumstance, however, when duly considered, tended to inspire her with confidence. The child‘s manâ€" rers and method of speech, and its genial, buoyant spirit, so bright and yet so tractable, plainly evincâ€" ed that the surroundings of its inâ€" fancy had been pure and healthâ€" ful; or, at least, that only such influences had been allowed to bear upon the child. Such a child could never have been resigned by its parents; and if ‘bs rarents were dead, there was little fear that others would seek the burden. As for the woman who had peered in 3+ the window, it was probably the old nurse who had left the basket upon the piazza a month before, and who had simply come to assure herself that all was well with the little one. CHAPTER HI son living with Madame Rachel !"‘ ‘There is not, sit.‘ Christine looked _‘ toward the house, but only the obscure haze of trees and shrubbery met her gaze. She was beginning to be alarmed. Will you suffer me to pass, sir ‘"Certainly. I thank you for your information." We have said that Christine was ir the possession of perfect physical bealth; and so, too, were there strength and vigor in her delicateâ€" ly molded limbs. Instead of faintâ€" ing with fear and fright, she gathâ€" eced all her forces for resistance, and, with a desperate effort, broke from the hold upon her mouth ard screamed aloud for help. The man grasped her with furious energy and cragged her toward the brook ; and he swore, as he did so, that he would kill her if she did not cease ber struggling and her cries. s Christine was strong, but the rufâ€" fian was for stronger; and, moreâ€" over, her strength was failing, while that of the man was growing in volâ€" ume from rage and desperation. Help came. A lithe and manly form bounded upon the scone; a keen, quick eye caught the situaâ€" tion; and on the next instant a blow sent the ruffian staggering backward into the brook. s "Christine! Christine! Look up You are not hurt ? The maiden looked up into the frank, handsome face, and then sufâ€" fered herself to be drawn upon the welcome bosom. ‘"No, Paul, I am not hurt. Ob! I am glad you came.‘" ‘*But, who is it! _ What is it? Whatâ€"" thereafter begged her to call her so always. _ Early in the summer of Chrisâ€" tine‘s eighteenth year (always supâ€" posing that she had been three years of age when left at the Brookâ€" side), she was walking, late in the day, alone in the garden. The great city had been pushing its brick walls for out upon the highlands, and many a spot that had been green during the maiden‘s early childhood was now packed with the habitations of man; but no enâ€" croachment had been suffered upâ€" on the Brookside grounds. Madame Rachel preserved her garden and ber lawn and her park intact; and the only change she had made in answer to the outsetting tide of conâ€" struction had been the building of hicher fences around her estate. On the present occasion, Chrisâ€" tine was evidently thinking of someâ€" thing beyond the everyday blessâ€" ings. _ There was a lateat warmth in the eye, a delicate flush upon the cheek, an eager, wistful parting of the lips, and a fitful heaving of the bosom, as though emotions new and strange were stirring within. She sat thus, with her hands pressed over her heart, when she was aropsâ€" ed by the sound of footsteps, and upon looking up, she beheld a man who had approached close to her seat. Until that moment, she had not realized how long she had sat beneath the old tree. The shades of the closing day had deepened inâ€" to an unbroken vail,â€" and in the west, beyond the brook and beâ€" youd the Middlesex Hills, the evâ€" ening star was. slhning. ‘The man came nearer and she saw that he was past the middleâ€"ageâ€"a hardâ€" faced, broadâ€"shouldered man, with evil eyes and bated breath. He was respectabdly. dressed, not in the garb of labor, but in clothing which had once been fine and fashionable, but which had now become worn so that in some places it was threadâ€" bare. Christine would have hurried away, but he was directly in her path, so that she could not leave the place without jostling him. ‘"‘Miss," said he, with vulgar courtesy, "you must not fear me. I am not mistaken in calling you Miss §t. Clair ?" "That is my name, sivr.~ "You are the young lady who lives with Madame Rachel *‘ T am. sir." "Is there any other young perâ€" So speaking, the man stepped aside and bowed politely, with his kand upon his bosom. The newâ€"comer‘s speech was cut short by a loud splashing in the water, and, upon looking ia that With a quick step,. CUhristine moved past him; but he, with a guicker, leaped and caught her in his strong arms, and pressed his hand over her mouth. "‘Help! help!"‘‘ cried the maiden once more. Christine strayed down by the great willows that drooped above the brook. The _ air was soft and balmy, and the influence of the evâ€" ening shadows, after the hot day, was most grateful. The maiden stopped beneath one of the larger treesâ€"a patriarch, whose branches entirely overarched the stream, the bending boughs of the lower limbs touching the water; and here, upâ€" on a rude bench she sat down. She had much to think of. ‘The love of Madame Rachel was scarcely ever absent from her thoughts ; and even when the mind was occupied with other themes, and thought of that love might seem absent, it was yet a present power, operative, though silent, a part of the very basis upâ€" on which the superstructure of joy and cratitude was erected. ‘‘Easy, my dear! Make no noise, and you shall not be harmed. You need not struggle, for you must come with me. I have set my life upon the event, and I am not to be thwarted. Easy, I say! If you give me occasion, I may do you harm.‘‘ IX MERRY OLD ENGLAND James Cook, an aged weaver, of Slaithwaite, Yorkshire, choked to death at his dinner. direction, he saw that the ruffian had regained his feet, and was dashâ€" ing through the brook. He would have leaped after him, and tried to secure him, but he could not leave Ohristine. "Do not follow him, Paul.‘ "I will not leave you, Christine. But tell me, what does it mean t‘ As they walked up_ from the brookside, the girl told the story. (To be continued.) At Clifton Colliery, Nottingham, two miners were electrocuted by an electrical driven coalcutting maâ€" chine. William Franks, a labourer _ of Gateshead was seucenced to five months in jail for stealing money from a fourâ€"yearâ€"old child. Private Richard James Smith, of the Royal Maine Light Infantry, died at Forton barracks, from inâ€" juries received while walking in his sleep. Workmen near Canterbury found a bottle containing what they thought was beer. One of their number died in violent agony after drinking a little. Instructions have been issued by the Postmasterâ€"General of England that pens for the use of the public in post offices shall, in future, be kept in a proper condition for use. Matthew Adam, a London carter, was sent to jail for _ 30 days . for tearing out his house‘s tongue in a fit of. fury. â€" A twentyâ€"yearâ€"old Newcastle girl drowned herself in the canal. Grief for a dead sweetheart had affected her brain. ‘"‘There is no such thing as new milk in London,‘" said counsel in an adulteration case at the Stratâ€" ford Police Court. ‘"‘There is no such thing as new milk in London,"‘ said counsel in an adulteration case at the Stratâ€" ford Police Court on Saturday. Five railway men were poisoned, one fatally, by drinking a bottle of beer tney found near the track at Tyler Hill, near Canterbury. Dr. Jamieson arrived in England recently in connection with the passing of the South African Union Bill by the Imperial Parliament. Beneath the Church of St. Leonâ€" ards, Hythe, were found a collecâ€" tion of skulls believe to be those of Kentish men who lived in the fourâ€" teenth and fifteenth centuries. An epicurean pauper complained to the Shifnal (Shropshire) Guardâ€" ians, that the workhouse. food was bad. The Guardians decided â€" his diet in future would be porridge. Remarkable stories of the prevalâ€" ence of witchcraft in Somerset and of strange medical beliefs common in the country were told at a meetâ€" ing of teachers at Bury, near Dulâ€" verton, on Saturday. Almondbury _ Grammar_ School, Huddersfield, this year celebrates its tercentenary, the school having been founded in 1609 under an orâ€" der issued by James L. It is proposed to establish a meâ€" teorological station at Huddersâ€" field. A berring weighing a a half was caught by a boatman. Swallowing a farching death of Elien Conroy, ning Town. Mrs. Ann Roberts has died at Oswestry Workhouse in her 101st year. About $140,000 has been received from various London churches at the Mansion House by Saturday for the Hospital Sunday Fund. Damage to the extent of $200,000 was caused recently by a fire at a paint manufacturers‘ wharf by the riverside at Cubitt Town. The King of Spain, it is reported at the Isle of Wight, will race in his own yacht at the Royal Yacht Squadron Regatta during the Cowes week. ence of witchcrf_zft in pomeLrseb â€"ant "‘The memory of a kindly word of strange medical beliefs common Notlong cone hy 4P the country were told at a meet | pp. fragrance of a fading flower ing of teachers at Bury, near Dulâ€" §enp fosingly verton, on Saturday. The gleaming of a sudden smile, Almondbury .Gra,mmar School, A cudden toas Huddersï¬eld, this year celebrates The warmer pressure of the hand, its tercentenary, the school having | mpo tone of cheor : been founded in 1609 under an O"â€"| mhe hush that says I cannot speak, der issued by James L. & But T have heard Thomas Fulle.r, a youne pol}ce The verse that only brings a notée constable, stationed at Kentish | _ Frrom God‘s own word ; Town, was committed for trial at| Guch tiny things we scarcely count Marylebone police court recently on | _ As ministry. five charges of theft and one of | The giver, dreaming he has shown assault. Sceant sympathy ; To abnormal growth has been asâ€" | Rut when the heart is everâ€"wrought, cribed the death of a Norfolk agriâ€" Ah! who can tell & cultural laborer‘s son, John Dack, | The power of just such tiny things who, aged 5 years, weighed 4 stone _ To make it well ?" . Hull City Council purpose spend ing $25,000 for a municipal organ. Thomas Fuller, a young police constable, stationed at Kentish Town, was committed for trial at Marylebone police court recently on five charges of theft and one of assault. GOccurrences in the Land Thai Reigns Supreme in the Comâ€" mercial World. Twelve hundred years old, the church of Kirkdale, near Kirby Moorside, is to be restored. Mr. William Metcalfe, who comâ€" posed the famous hunting_ song "John Peel,""‘ died at Carlisle, aged eighty. The King has sent $1,32%5 to the building furnd. of wt. Barnabas Church, in the working class disâ€" trict to Epsom. Through licking the inside of a tin that had contained _ weedâ€"killer seven cows have died_ at Hawkâ€" stone, Shropshire. _ NEWS BY MAIL ABOUT JOHA\ BULL ‘AND HIS PEOPLE. His pound and Llandudno caused the 2, of Canâ€" â€"In connection with the tercentenâ€" ary of the rule of the Romanoffs the Russian Post Office will issue a series of new postage stamps bearâ€" ing the effigies of various Russian monarchs, including Peter the Great, Catharine II., and the reignâ€" ing Czar. The portraits will be exâ€" ecuted by some of the most famous artists of the day. According to Mr. Nevil Maskâ€" elyne, the wireless telegraph office on trains is quite a possibility. In his opinion it would be less difficult to apply the wireless system to a train man to a ship, there being continuity from the rails over which the train is travelling. He thinks A huge conger eeel, which had left the river and made its way up a small stream threading the marshâ€" es near Boston (England), was stranded on the falling tide. Two men secured it just before the tide came up the creek again. _The conger measured 5ft. 3in. in length, 23in. round, and weighed just 40lb. More matches are used in the United Kingdom than in any other one eauntry in the world. It has been estimated that English people use an average of eight matches each person per day. A Norwich, England, firm is comâ€" pleting 1,100 miles of wire netting for the Australian, Queensland, and Victorian Governments. _ The netting is retailed by the Governâ€" ments to settlers, and is used for keeping rabbits from the crops. The drink bill at most London hospitals is much less than it used to be. At Guy‘s, for instance, the sum yearly expended on alcoâ€" holic liquors for the patients is at the rate of $2.25 a bad. In 1862 it was no less than $17.25. Dogs are well provided for on the Prussian State railways. The latest arrangement for the comfort of touring canines is hotâ€"water pipes and spring mattresses. A bit of hard board with no spring in it is the ordinary man‘s or woman‘s portion. Interesting â€" Bits of_ Knowledge About ‘Most Everything. There are 750 golf link in Great Britain. The value of pictures in the Naâ€" tional Gallery is about $6,250,000. A single orange tree will produce 20,000 oranges, and a lemon tree, 8,000 lemons. The Japs make a paper cloth that washes like linen. Of British bird‘s eggs a complete set is worth about £200. Cairo has the biggest University in the world. There are about 9,000 students and 200 professors. The chief subjects taught aro Moâ€" hammedan law and> matters conâ€" nected with the Koran. The shareholders of one of the leading goldâ€"mining companies at Bendigo have just elected a lady, a Mrs. Holmes, to a vacant direcâ€" torshipâ€"said to be the first instance of the kind on record. an installation _ would costâ€" from $2,000 to $2,500 per train. "I want to go to prison, because it will straighten me up, and all I waut is work,"" said Benjamin Wright (41), who at the Surrey Quarter Sessions was sentenced to four months‘ hard labor for burâ€" glary at Egham. A man named Nolan, a native of Wexford, who‘ had been an inmate of Celbridge Union (Co. Kildare) recently had got a legacy of £20,â€" 000. The guardians have applied for the cost of his maintenance and acepted £60. Three gas companies in London consume between them 4,000,000 tons of coal per annum. When a hen attains her third year her laying capacity is at its best. She will lay, on an average, from 300 to 500 eggs in her lifetime. The champion shorthorn _ bull, Duke of Hoole, wnich belonged to M. J. H. Maden, of Bacup,, Engâ€" land, has been bought for $7,875 for exportation to the Argentine Republic. 10 lbs. He had been exhibited beâ€" for_e ‘t,he_ Medical Association. A kettle of boiling water which a Iaverpool man, named Michael Jones, threw after his wife as she fled from the house scalded two boys who were passing, and Jones was sent to jail for six weeks for assault. One _ hundred and _ seventeen miners living in the Tyneside vilâ€" lage of Swalwell, and employed at a local colliery, were a fortnight ago committed to prison for seven days, in default of nonâ€"payment of fines for having absent themselves from work. LITTLE THINGS. NEAR AND FAR. Now let us see what it is that makes one land rich and another poor. The poor land is found nearly always to be very destitute of carâ€" bonate of lime. It is often waterâ€" logged, underdrained. Lacking lime the humus has not gathered in it, thus bacteral life is absent to a large degree. _ Often it also lacks phosporus. Thus plants of a high type, plants that help mankind, do not thrive on that land. _ Let it alone and it grows up to serub pine trees or to some sort of plant or tree that can get along if it has only foothold and moisture, and. mere traces of plant food, some rather lowly organized plant that is content with little if it bas ample supply of moisture and chance to gather carbon by its , leaves. Useful plants, plants for comfort of mankind, thrive in living soils. Living soils are soils rich in carâ€" bonate of lime, rich in phosphorus, filled with decaying _ vegetable matter, teeming with bacteria of a useful sort. Useful bacteria are found ~always in soils rich in humus and carbonate of lime. Phosphorus is closed to the founâ€" tainhead of all life. Nearly all soils need more phosphorus than _ they have. Carbonate of lime in the soil makes better crops of clover and other legumes Living soils are filled with air, not drowned with water. y* a cross between an Irish_ terrier, which has been so trained that by means of sounds it goes to butcher and baker and other tradesmen on errands. Quite recently a note was placed in his mouth, and the dog trotted off to Rochester Fost Office and secured its owA license. Of iron, magnesium, sulphur and a few other chemical ingredients of plants, nearly all soils have a. sufficiency. In general we need only concern ourselves with the three constituents, limestone, phosphorus and. organic matter which also supplies nitrogen. Poâ€" tassium is found in abundant supâ€" ply in most clay soils made. from decomposed ligneous rocks, such as feldspar granite. Nitrogen is ac cumulated in soils through the aid of bacteria, often found on roots of leguminous plants. Clovers, if plowed under in sufficient quantity, makes land rich in nitrogen. Phosâ€" phorous is bequeathed to soils through the decay of limestone or other rocks, or is added to the soil in the shape of fertilizer, as in ground. bones, either from the stock yards or from the graveyard of prehistoric life called the "‘phosphate heds.‘‘ > What is it that makes the great difference in soils? I find as L go over the country such a vast differâ€" ence in crop yield, in vegetation, in types of plants coming from the soil. I am told that nearly all of the material of plants comes from: the air ; why ,then, do plans behave so very differently in aifferent soils t I not the greatest different in my own fields, and cannot account for it. writes Joseph E. Wing in Breeder‘s Gazette. No one knows all about soils. A few things we definitely know. True, all plants partake largely of:f4 water and carbon, which comes from the air directly or in rain, but after all the life of the plant come from the phosphorus of the soil, the nitrogen of the soil, the lime of the soil all the other minâ€" erals found in plants but first inâ€" importance are phosphorus, nitroâ€" gen and lime. Now bacteria of the useful sorts, those that make plant food and‘ make it available, revel in soils filled with air, with moisture, but not wetness, filled with carbonate of lime, filled with vegetable: matter. Carbonate of lime is an essential part of the foundation of all fertile soils; without that sub= stance one_ finds acidicy of soil which discourages useful bacterig and encourages harmful fungi‘ Carbonate of lime in the soil helps to make the dark colored vegetable mould that we term "humus." With no carbonate of lime in the soil humus does uot tend to _ acâ€" cumulate. uarbonate of lime makes. phosphorus available, prevents its union with iron or @lumium to: make insoluble compounds. Thus it is seen that carbonate of lime in the soil is one of the bed rocks of soil fertility. s . Mr. G.:G. Hamar, of Rochester England, is the possessor of a dog Thus the foundation principles of soil building are, first. let the water out and the air in by drain, next see to storing the soil with carbonate of lime. There are about 2,000 tons of soil in the top foot of an acre, about 1 per cent. of carâ€" bonate of lime is a useful working amount. Then_ LHâ€" the soil â€" with vegetable matter, through manures, through grass and clover roots, applying phosphorus 1ib1era,lly, and ‘ . 1 . ied Fay‘c PR ow en n & : if needed potassium_ also. _ Then plant good seed and till the surface and God will do the rest. _ The meaning of the fertility of the soil » will be revealed to you.