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found in ttis Old Sign. the Durban Bakery. .. It 'fn moon-tn! but they In" b0. that it does - In It. it “and. Peat 00”.]. “‘13. qteth nanny wht " 5.11:”- and mu- are now prepared MPTLY. 1tity of Sash, ad the differ- rniture at Quality IRAN EVER, lass Hearse. Mu Promptly “tended h. JAR! 38888. cal Discovery AU. L'n','l) if CERES 1M side sheeting. " ‘riqcipleo. that no that all orders 0‘wa KECIINIE ath always 33H] actory, relfmmi u. til m.dicirtqq. to trest the org" "'H‘h Amortm har. not beeq y: ..»to It. .uo. KRESS Meri. , Q " boot no "til 5 lune w v. pow." which the 1.” supply the or“. t cud-nu rd, Indie n)» qrfr'n" 9". thetr C he ape! .nny ' " Wu. m. mu may be but rank blesphemy to you Tet. you know. Ind I know. In what 'hat divine spark consists. and it WP be only true to it, then we have an: Glitwrt so lnw, however lore our plum, hat that life still holds out for us its infinite and ever-recap";- tivr, possibilitiu. I don't suppoee that Geoffrey he put all this into words in his mind, but he knew " very well. Just on we all know it. and when he rose from his piano, and reached out hls "In waive his head. and said aloud to him- eelf. "I elmply curt do it," he know vary wall that it was no outer or my terial obstacle that made him any no. but only that “not name of colt-oom- vaou which eh timely tofu-ed to her of 1.- banana “as gods," and if ax- "111"“th have: us deNneehvo, no mu wa mar he dragged down to the aw! J the ”hrnrm that pariah." It MIL-ya in owl) human soul. widely, nrvrr'mrruilr. The highest aim of one is hr M the poles from that of un- oth-r What seems . holy religion to ma. may he but “at bluish-my to "f" 3:90. you know. Ind I know. In 'tr. old Crooks understood it, nnd all 'he Krnat heathen writers of old. Bo- :mm- it is simply. in oat-h of us. tho *lltrk of sacred fire, that if kept alive If»! t1ifk-rimt van make each and all n.-.nz can by sin or folly, be placed -n "hm that of having let himself l-mn in his own eyes until, in spite 4" :H 'he inner pleadings and excuses lf his torr indulgent sell. he is forced f , vwn mm in his own estimation he hm inn-om:- base and despicable. That N rho lowest depth into which abu- m in will can fall. The world may de- an 1H. encmloa may jest. friends may 'vn'n rheir banks upon an, the voice tt' unhlic amnion may condemn "N, but 4.. Inns: as to our inner selves we still -m my. "I have. at least. struggled , ham done my but, according to my 'crht--.t have kept that which the mm H knows: nothing of, bright and un- mxilvwl."-eo long; we have not thr- 1- MM ourselves. we retain at"! our to "hold. firm amidst the shifting 'wiI'kanda of life. And thin has noth- ing ry do with repentance. nor with. m . oluur-nor yet with any creed up- trt 'h. fare of the earth. It in omn- mun to the savage and the saga. to 'Y Christian and the Bindoo. lo the m h l .u. Geoffrey knew himself to be sl~innary and to be worthy of the tho‘lnpt of nine sensibla men out of TI: but. after all that, he eould not 'hor himself. nor be untrue to his .vn nature. without that dirost of ills Willing him-the loss of his own self- w‘gmrr, I take it that there ia no uu- terrible situation. that nhuman houghts. minutimas too, his face looked and nd dreamy, and the brown eyes: seem- " n. we things that were far Bwar- Mutiilnes again a little grim smile wki- forth upon his lips, generally t his own expense. as he recognized h, uornewhat ludicrous aide of his w-iimtinus. Mme!” to men on their way through every-day life. He never knew which of these two natures would be Mper- most with him, or how long each would hold its sway. He was aware that, in mum vague way, two women at this prisent time occupied either end of 'he mental see-saw of his existence. Mme. dt, Bretour represented to him 'h" poetry of devotion, the nobility of 1 life of self-obnegationv the bean- C/ of all that was true and chivalroua. _sshilst Angel Hallidny. at the other -ntl of the swaying balance, meant suc- "(-13 in his career, a comfortable the mm“, a aim houso in town, the pros- n-vt of wealth tor the children that ~rmuld name after him and aposition ti inevrttestahle respectability and in- I"1t‘nce fur himself CHAPTER Xrx.-Continuod. Geoffrey Dane possessed one of thoee highly strung nervous organizations, that are absolutely fatal to happiness mil very often to success in this world. He had something of the Poet's tem- perament, and something also of the <uint. He had a terrible fashion of qllitting hairs about his own actions and feelings, about his conscience and his ideals, that frequent, landed him in a very quagmire of morbid and nus- emble misgivinzs. There was within him a subtle blending of two natures if a higher self, that was ulmost too refined for this wicked world'a daily use, and of a lower self that was con- atuntly at war with it, dragging him llill'k into the materialism. and the com- uwn sense. and the solid reasoning powers which are of most use and Cs-nffrey sat at home. one Sunday I-:!‘l’nt)l.n. and thought over alt these l; mu. He was in his own room in \m phi Terrace. His sitting-room. in! had once, a century ago, been a ruljxlq reception-room, was large and sir.) with a handsome carved ceil- mt. and a high wooden panelling of thins painted wood all the way round I 1ieotfrey's furnitnro was of the mug-lust and mantiest. and his few ‘il-‘le "hairs and tables stood about u v; helpless fashion, each by Itself mun a wilderness of dingy, faded car- r't There were, however, warm. red minim at the high windowa, and a leigrhtt‘ul. distant view of the river m: of them: a view that was especi- .l. 'leap to him. Moreover, a cottage mum stood crossways in one corner, ml it was at this piano that Geoffrey ylm seated, his fingers wandering vznuly over the keys. as it was his tt .mm when he was thinking det'ply, viking strange chords. flowing into mums melodies in minor keys, or making out into little spurt; of a Itrr' joyous nature, according to the numb" and fancies of his changing wns-tan and to the unbéliavor: old Crooks understood it, and all airy-at heathen writers of old. Ber- Hint a fool all his friends would nk him, that he could even hesitate noon the two alternatives of his ‘lle'P. Even honest old Miles, who m' m-ithor worldly minded nor mer- mry, would assuredly set him down .m ass. could he know of the con- mng irwlinations, that made war no HI; wirhm him. No doubt, thought Jfrey, Miles would be uni-any as to W!” of his liver. recommend I to hut, or to ride, or to play k t itt order to restore himsle' to mm wholesome state of mind. and lltl comma. him to forget the idle zinq for a woman whom he could w-r marry, and take to himuelf tho Hi wife who would bring him not V hnr sweet self, but also so large hum of the good things of the M i how Matthew Dane was a. hard- natured man. He loved money, and 5 he lined himself: and, over and above iboth, be loved the sense of Power. lAnd, besides these things, he loved little else on earth. His wife believ- iell him to be the coldest and hardest.. fhaurtc-d man in the world; and if a iwites Is not a correct judge ot her fhu~lmncl‘s charair, I should like to lknnm "ho is! He had not e single soft or vulnerable spot within him. He was pleasant and conciliatory to the persons to whom he found it of use to be so; and harsh and unrelenting to those whom he was unable to bend to his will. But he had no personal predilection" towards anybody. Now, for the first time in his life, as he Med up in the young man's face- btring down upon him with thet brilliant smile upon lt-there came in- to his inner being a new and utterly extreordinery sensation. A sort of inward warming end tightening taround-I had almost written his heart-but, possibly. his organism of g sensation would be . more correct! term-tor, to speak socuretely. Met-l thew Dene had no heart. And, Pe..'::) tsneously. he tho ht--"Whr ls this boy not my son 'tef could hare loved] him." For, in truth, Godfrey would hare realized all his ambitions. Well- looking. and well-unnered. s manly young "l1ow--rmd yet one whose In- tellect wee awake end keenly recep- tive, he would have been. es his pert- ner. Mr. Hellldny. had seld of him-. "e son of whom any men might be proud." I - And ho almost hated his brother, the? Char clorgyman, when he ratieeted that up ! misfit. Now, Geoffrey had a charming smile. It was a smile that flashed up sudden- ly into a face that was habitually sumowhul. a grave one, lighting it up like it glram of sunshine. ll was the sort of xmile that helps a young man on in the world, that makes women love him and men lake kindly to him; it had in it that rare and subtle charm which. for luck of a Iretter name, we call “fascination.” Sometimes it is in the tone of lhe mice that this intang- ible attraction lies. sometimes In some mere trick of manner and glance; but wherever it is met with, it is never acquired. but always born with the lucky possessor; and is as true 8 fairy gift as any with which a super- natural godmother ever endowed a mortal babe. .--- .=._. uI75,V-Ill slULUB. 'Why, 1 am sure you don't like him much yourself. uncle!" answered the young man. smiling. _l Geoffrey always saw in that picture 'a glimpse of the river, silver blue, be- youd the trees of the Embankment, with a puff of black smoke from a passing steamer, and the tawny red Hull ot a Thames barge floating lar.- ily seaward; and in the little pause of spee’th that ensued, there came the sound of the Sabbath afternoon church boil, above the distant murmur of the. street traffic. below. And his uncle. who leant back in his chair as though he Were tired, with his gloved hands upon his knees, and his dark, power- ful farts. a little graver and sterner thun usual-Geoffrey could even recol- lect down to the dust upon his boots, which showed that he had walked and not driven, so vividly did all the lit.. tle details of that seemingly small and insignificant svelte remain impressed upon his memory. "l am sorry to hear that you don't like Triehet, Geoffrey," said his uncle, at length, as he began slowly drawing off his dogskin glm es. come and look after me t" [ He drew forward the one comfort- able arm-chair in the mum. and Mr. lmne sat down. depositing his hat and mine upon the floor. Geoffrey half launt half Bat, upon the Corner of the table, facing the windows. Afterwards, many times, that. little scene came back to his memory, just as pictures in our life's history, some of them startling and dramatic, others trifling and tame, like a Dutch interior. or a corner of still life, have a habit of coming back to us, we know not why nor wherefore, just with atlauh, as if some hidden hand turned the kal- eidoscope of our past, and showed us, tvsp-hazard, the little vivid touches that stand out in sharpened outlines above the dull and monotonous col- ouring of all other things that are dead and Bone and over. l " Dear me, what a huge, airy room you have got here. Court; and anion view out of window, too; but I daresay it is a bit (haughty in winter; taktsa a dear” of warming,[ should any, in that old-fashioned grate. You have a bed- room. I imagine, opening out of it t" 'N0, Only an attic upstairs. Behind those folding-doors there is alumber room. I am rather thinking of asking Miles Faulkner to come and take it, and to share the sitting-room with me, it would be a pleasant arrangement for us both. and an economical one. Mr Dane frowned slightly. ., Miles li‘aulkurr t" he repeated slow- ly. " Why him? Why not Albert Tri. chet i" " Ilccause r like the one and I don't like the other," answered Geoffrey with a laugh. But won't you sit down uncle? it was very kind of you to come and look after me. t" not been to lunch. Your aunt was afraid you might be ill." All this time Mr Dane was looking about him with observant glances taking in the carved ceiling and the high wooden Pantelpieee, and the chairs and ttv. bles. and photographs. He noticed ev- trythjng, down to the handsomelv It was at this moment that alrrt.otsi.r- ing at his door on denly attrtusted his attention. Somebb, whilst he had been playing and thinking, had come unheard up the wide carpetlesn stair- case without. And if the Lord Chan- cellor. or the Prime Minister, ttr the Archbishop of Canterbury in 901100- or even all those three dignitaries to- gether, had walked in. he could not have been more profoundly astonish- ed than when be beheld Matthew Dane quietly enter the room. " Uncle l" " Yes, my dear bor-it is r, you 599- I thought I would come and look you Up. You have not been to Cromwell Road for a long time, Geoffrey, and this Lis the second Sunday you have nut A-.. A, ' _ -- "ope extinguished. glance, taking in the iling and the high wooden re. and the chairs and ta- photographs. He noticed ev- r like the one and I don't "her," answered Geoffrey h. But won't you sit down was very kind of you to "That is one of my condition, Geot- frey. There is another." "Yea t" "It is even e we important one than the other; it ll eoeentlel. in bet. to the compact between as." (To be continued.) Charity u e clock often was a There was a little pause. Geoffrey, feeling instinctively. with a vague sense of presentiment. that more was to come, waited patiently and silent‘ ir, with a little expectation. and per- haps too, a little apprehension, in his enquiring glance. Matthew Dane seemed to hesitate. It such a thing could be said about no masterful and determined an autocrat, it might al- most hare been suppoeed that be me nervous. He did not meet his nep- hew's eyes, but looked away vmntly out of the window-drum-d his fin- gers upon the ems ot his cheir. and cleared his throat. Geoffrey gave it gloomlly. with downuast ”as. He felt, indeed, that Whatever his objections might be, he was scarcely in a. position to mention them. "No matter what you thought. Geot- trey; personal prsdilecrions, us you know, must be set aside in certain cases. Trichet hears the old name, is Cleve! and pushing, and thoroughly up in the business; and for the welfare of the house. he must come into it some day as a partner. To that I TB- quire your consent. .. You surprisa ma, uncle. I thought--" "I am sorry to find, for Instance." he continued, "that you do not like Albert Trichet, because it is a matter of fact that he will have eventually to be taken into partnership in the busi- tttyas." Geoffrey looked up in unfeigned al- tonishment. Mr. Mme waved all that awa_y " a matter of course, with a tsignificant gesture. "r trust, sir, that my conduct and action.» may always continue to give you satisfaction," said Geoffrey, in the modest tone of the good yawn: man who is conscious of a. clean 1 H. and has nothing to hide, and nothing to be asks-med of. "Of enurse. yuu must understand that before such an important change can take place in your prospects, Geof- frey. I must receive some pledges upon you: side, some sort of security con- cerning your future conduct - some conditions, in fact, with regard to your actions." ' And then, as one who hears a voice out of a fog, he found that his uncle was speaking again: "Unele, l have no words in which to express my gratitude for your good- ness to me," answered Geoffrey; be [naked down as he spoke, and his voice shook a little, and, quick as thought, there flashed through hia mind the un- spuken words: "Should I be worthy of her-will she take me when I am a partner in Dane & Trichet's great house, instead of an obscure and penni- less clerk t" "My partner now, and the possibility of becoming my heir hereafter," he repeated slowly and lingeringly, with a surf of unctuous roll as though to let the words sink well into the mind of his nephew. “Does that idea please you, Geoffrey V" he asked quickly, after a short pause, looking up keenly, and somewhat kindly, at the ynnng mun. "My dear unclei" Geoffrey could hardly believe his ears-the magni- tude of the proposal almost took away his breath. There went a whining and ringing of blood into his head-. sur'h as any great and unexpected stroke of fortune-whether good or evil-is apt to produce in the calmest and most self-eontrollgti, Old Dane watched the effect of his words with furtive glances. He had calculated upon this agitation, this shortening of the breath, and height- ening of colour. "It will turn his head, for the moment," he thought with satisfaction. "However, Goeffrey. the time has come. when I wish to make my views known to you. As things are, we are bound, in this world, to make the best of them. And I am much inclined to take you into partnership al once, with the eventuality. at my death. of making you also my heir." a doubt, be regarded her conduct. However, he did not choose to enter into this branch of the s'uhjeei-and dismissed it with a. wave of the hand. . ,. -- "'"-%r' an new. All“, “111)“!!!le ir, he pat forth his hand and laid it upon that of the old man. For this seemed to him to be an outburst of genuine affection towards himself, and he was quite touched; so that he was. henceforward, more drawn in sympathy towards him than he had ever deemed it possible to be. But the momentary weakness was already over, and the Old Adam had re~asserted itself. Matthew pressed his nephew's hand, but even as he did so he recognized the distinct advan- tage which his little passing outburst had enabled him to gain. "He is a Soft-hearted young fool," he said to himself, "and if I have made him a ‘bll. fond of me, he will be easier to manage when I put the screw on." For that was, of course, the end and aim of all his ttetions--that his pup- pets should fall into their places. and dance out their parts, according to his pleasure. Now, evidently, was an appropriate moment for unfolding something of his intentions. "My dear boy," he began, in a fath- erly and kindly manner--."" has not, alas! pleased Heaven to bless me with a son of my own-your ttttat--" i "My aunt, air, surely regrets it as} muck as you do," interrupted Geoffrey quickly. . Mr. Dane frowned slightly, but let the observation pass. If he had enter- ed into it, he would, no doubt, have stated what he really believed, that Mrs Dane was an obstinate, ill-con- ditioned woman, who had chosen to fly in his Gee, and to thwart him of malice prepense in his dearest hopes, out of sheer feminine spite and "cuss- edness." For that was how, without on 31111.3(» ‘h‘qd no may!” nepd ttf - ,,-__-..-_. -""'" w-.. enough. he felt I kind of rage else ‘snlnst the young man himself. In that he was only his nephew. "Why are you not my aon8"--the words were actually wrung from him !sloud in the bitterness af his unavail- mg regrets. and with such a force and depth as to be almost startling. _"M) dear uncle!" cried Geoffrey. WIN}. an emotion which his hard; auto- cratic master had never, hitherto, been ttte arouse in him. And, impulsivev I 'boon. Ltiir, G/n1iGiirirGiririii Pee _bostowod. ‘ 4nd. odtilr tat-5m. um nucuuuu, "ut IN sellleu. In the winter the Viroruy's Legisla. the Council-la'., P1.rliamentGio, and representatives, European and native, arrive from all parts of the country, Each native has a consider- able retinue. which, on its departure "rom Calcutta. would become e new _ FOCUS 0F INFECTION. It plague increases in Calcutta the supreme government cannot go down there this winter. Simle, when snow tells, in inecceeeible, end the Viceroy end hie mlnietere must reeide in the cold weather where epproech In any. If Celcntte end Sink be out of the question, In there no elternetlve! Yew, Imperial Delhi. the Clephem Junction of the Eeet. the future cepltel of Indie. The enclent Jed-veiled city, the we of hloodeh end bottle. the seet of many dyneetiee, where Hindu. Ina guvernmo-nt of India recognizes that it cannot, in cummon humanity, Hauler its army of clerks from the ttalubrioits heights of Simla, to the sickly squalor of a plturue-atrictrea capital. This matter has already en- gaged its gttenlipn,-_lgut is settled. tion of a Poe. It is as a matter at fact, a plum. unvarmsned tale. These rookeries dotted all over Calcutta have gained for it the reproach that it is a city of palaees in front and a city of pig-smog in the rear. The governme-m of India recognizes that it cannot, in common humanity, tranfor its army of clerks from the salubrious height}; of Simla, to the "in this 150 square feet of area there live two hundred people or more, who are for the most part en- gaged in making sweetmeats, which form an important item in the daily sustenance of the punrer classes. The eight of this horrible place is bad enough during the day, when nearly all the adult population are away bai- tering their sweets. At night, when they return to prepare confections tor the next day's sales. and to sleep. its condition can be better imagined than described." Such is Calcutta. To a person not hardened to the slums of India’s pro- seul capital this descripxiun will read as if it came from the fervid imatrinae tion of a Poe. It is as , matter at "A bastee in the purlieus of Burra ,Bazaar is a fearsome thing, and that in Rup Chand Roy's street. the de- struction of which the municipality is contemplating. is an aggravated speci- _ men of noisome squalor and unrelieved misery. To get any idea of it one must imagine a rhomboid framed in by large tenement hangs}: which of- teeiuaiir shut. out sunshine and air. Houses in this irregular since are dotted about promiseuoualy, and the present accumulation of filthy debris would appal the dirtiest lazzaroni of the dirtiest part " Naples. They are fungthe most part built in two stories. There are, no windows, and the only; entrance is I so NARROW AND LOW that an ordinary sized man has to Squeeze in on all fours thruugh a hole in the wall. The wattle of which the wall is made exudas 01min.” The climate ot Calcutta is bad, There are less than six weeks when the weather can be called cold. Malaria is constantly present. The city aut- fern terribly from over-crowding. To give an idea of the Present state of sanitation of some quarters in Cal- cutta. a description ot a "baatee'u-a congeries of bamboo and mud huts where the poorer classes crowd togeth- er-may be quoted from a local pa- per.'-- In 1884 the Governor-General of Bengal was created Governor-General of India, and a lieutenant-governor appointed to administer that province. Since this date the affairs of no one province have been specially under the care of the Viceroy. He rules Indus, and his capital should be at the heart of India. Calcutta was never intended to be the capital of India. Located eighty miles from theme on the banks of the River Hooghly, a waterway with the moat dangerous navigation in the world, the little Bengal settlement. founded by Job Charnock two hun- dred years ago, has gradually grown ‘into the largest city of Hindustan, ‘with an immense maratime trade. So long as commerce was the controlling factor of British power in the East there was reason for the headquarters of the chief government being at the spot where the largest mercantile in- terests lay. But as the John Com- pany's factories were replaced by forts, and the merchant's ledgers gave way to conquering armies, the pro- priety of the situation was lost. "In considering where the seat of the supreme government should be placed," wrote Sir George Chesney, "the fact that it is at present nomin- ally at Calcutta need not be taken in- to account as is determining cause, this being merely an accident arising from the fact that the supreme gov- ernment has been gradually developed, by force ot circumstances. out ot, what was originally the government‘ of ‘ k, INDIA'S FUTURE UAPITAL. W the Genre-en Should be Ie-eved Pro- CnIeIue-Whu a “mm” "- A '"rrttrtr Dirty Place "he" POO!“ lake Sweet-enu-The - and Inn-x “the Punjab. Plague in now at the winter heed- quarters of the government of Indie. Hitherto the disease has been of e mild form, but it it assumes Inelig- nancy its revages will be terrible. Its presence brings the question of I. new capital for India once again with- in the range of practical. politics, writes a correspondent. IMPERIAL DELHI, THE RAILWAY CENTRE OF THE EAST. ONE ISOLATED PROVINCE." "Trude Aura-mu in numb-Ilium: Burl-a; I i.a~l Gonna”. i i, The story of the use of iron as a , material for the construcriun of ships‘ , is full of interest, writes Clerk Rus- sell in Pall Mall Magazine. Iron “1.! long ago used experimentally for building boats; several referent-ea to these crude attempts wilt be found Int the Annual Register of last ven- tury. Grantham quotes from u pub- lication dated July 28th. 1787. l he ‘writer hays: "A few days all” t, boat built of English iron by J. Wilkinson, Est., of Bradley Forge. mime up out“ canal tuthin town, loaded with men- ly-two tons and fifteen hundred- weight of it., own metal, etc. it in nearly of equal dimensions with other ' boats employed upon the canal. being To feet long and B feet 81-2 inches wide; . the thickness ofthe pinteu with which it is made is about five-sixteenth" of 1 an inch, and it is put together with 1 rivets. like copper or fire engine boil-. era; but the stem and stern-poem are I wood, and the gunwale lined with the! same; the beams are made of elm planks. Her weight is about eight tons; she will carry, in deep water. uit-'; wards of thirty-two tons, and draws eight or nine inches of water when t light." It is extraordinary that such t hints an these would have fallen dead. I Was there no shipbuilder with an eye t swift to witneas the enormous ponei- t bllitiea latent in these little canal ex- periments? A small iron boat was tt Ruched in August, 1815. She “an ' titted up in Liverpool as a pleasure- I boat. Hundreds viewed her as . i cnrioalt . She waa Mink maliciously I In the {Duke's Dock, as though 3mm. 0 Daniel Quilp of a workman. torreeving I iron to an inane it this boat was euf- I? “rod to go on hinting, had put an Plld n to her. Her owner raised her. and h sold her retold iron. but "t he loan of: thin boat," he an. "turned my alien-t ttoat to the practicability of making; an iron boat which could not: b. sunk‘ it by any ordinary man." Ib l Delhi is: within «ix hours' railway ‘journey of the Himalayas; so the ‘move to Simla will be accomplished ‘with much greater easn and at mur.h Hess expense in the future. The old Moguls, when not conducting a cum- :paign. would leave the plains during 3 the torrid hunts of summer. Kashmir , was their favorite mountain residenre. I'm, British Government in India has {chosan Simla, and its annual migra- ition is, after all. nothing but an um talent custom of Hindustan. i COST OF ERECTION [is calculated to be at least L'l50,000, ', and India has not the money to spend. 3Thia money question may delay the (trottsferende, but it will nut prevent iit, for It irby no means itriur.vrahlts. i Calcutta. boasts lhut remuvnce with- iin her gates linings the government ‘into close touch with all shades of inch-official opinion. But Delhi, with _ her growing industries. will supply as ‘strong a current of European opinion. iAnd her native nobility and gentry l am an infinitely greater factor in the 9 peace of the empire than the glib citi- , nuts of Bengal. Delhi's political situa- ‘ltion in the midst. " the mtrlike raves to! Hindustan is the strongest argu- , meant in her favor. The Winter and spring of the Pun- l gis jab are among the more exquisite nt- , in mospheres of the earth's surface. The 1 qu, keen. penetrating cold of December. i mg: with its via". Mun sky. is nature's {in most invigorating tonic: and the warm ant noons of March. when the rose gs rdenn big are aflamn with blow-mm and a melody an of (magmatic, are more deiicluu.< than it i the. kisses of a bride. Men who have i ms to seek the Government of India go I che now to Calcutta grumbling; they will I but hasten with delight to Delhi as to a , ha) charming health resort. l Whether the Viceroy rests there this winter matters not. Sooner or later the city will assert her old sover- eignty. More than one great Mogul endeavored to create a new Capital for himself; somn even moved by com- pulsion the whole population; but every attempt was foredoomed to fail- nre. The rose-colored bastiona beside the Pumna were possessed of an ir- restible fascination. Each time in a few short years Delhi arose from her desolation. the crowned mother-city of the Orient. So it will be again; though factory and workshop have encroach- od on palace, mosque and fort. The advantages which Delhi has over Calcutta may be thus summed up: Po- litical situation, greater accessibility to the whole of India. better climate, proximity to Shula. Against these must be set off the fart that there are no public building»: in Delhi. The I ABOVE THE DWELLINGS (of men and sending up their black ‘vapors to the sky to tell it Delhi is developing. You cannot pass through the city's densely populated bazaars without hearing the ring of hammers and the roar of furnaces. sounds which tell that the iron-founder is busy at work making his columns and pipes and a thousand and one things which formerly came. from England. The old view and the new bring in- to clear relief the change that has passed over Delhi, a change that Brit- ish rule is working throughout the empire. Through the walls that kept at bay the small army of heroes for three awful months forty-one years ago seven railways now enter. Glance at a railway map of India, and Delhi will be seen to he at the heart of the spider's web of permanent ways which our engineers have thrown over the country. Bombay to the tsouth-west, Calcutta to the south-east, Karachi to the west. Peshawar to the north, from all points of the compass the iron roads run straight to Delhi. across the sky. 77TH;;;;3 :egtcwup lofty chimney alums. towering high ed and been supplanted, has under- gone a mrvelloue metamorphosis. Bishop Heber described the view from the historie Ridge u "a very awful scene of desolation, ruins utter ruins. tombs otter tombs, fragments of Much- work. treestone, granite and marble scattered everywhere over e soil neturelly rocky and barren without cultivation. except in one or two spots. and w.it!put f eingle tree." A visitor looking down t name "ntatregrouiid, to-day tells us. on one side the snore stretching tomes the plains, other streaks of smoke. w hthan, Mus-ulnar: and Nahum: have tmtthtfnd copquered and reign- FIRST IRON SHIPS. sidt the saiwUf iGGi he plains. on the Symon stretching barren without one or two spots, u tree." down from the oNTAttTt5 ARCHM TORONTO PM. he upon ; When a man [out but in him.- ‘in he bio hill-alt . alarm I blow. In England and Holland the feeding of roots is universal; and it would In impossible for dairy and stock nr. meru to gel on without them. one hundred pounds ot hay is equivalent to 200 pounds ot potatoes. Now In nor. ot land that will produce 6,00t pounds of hay will produce ”UNI pounds of pontoon; that is, one so“ In potatoes will keep " much sun-k as three acres of hay. With manual“ or lurnips, the difference in much greater. The object with tho leg cow is to main her produce In one milk as poulNo. or to bring her te her highest nnturnl flow. Your horse miendn lo _bul does not Nun'- gwishoa. Dark or dump nimble: spirits Ind vurmus diwonm l Home: new] . \‘Irlely "nuets as ynurselt. It is wine ttt pm yourself in In. p1tuw--and think it over. It is cruel and silly to whip a horse for fright. Soothe! him with kind wordl. . Cruelty quantum for crane-(hey --to'e close neighbors. Clipping raver-ms mature. is cruel and causes dines“. Home» and blankets when I mu would need tn overcoat. He who than“ I horse will chum his wife or children. Overloading is I wally (all, and a (real mushy. Axle grease pay- ].llll) per cent. profit. Good blankets are profitable III‘ sum tood-Ut windy used. Patietttt and qewie grooms 1nd drivers are warm Auger pay that others. Quiet and patient driven are worth twice as much as any others. Competent drivers use the. whip but rarely. Whips mm mum than they cave. or CRUELTY IS THE DEVIL'S EARr- MARK. Check reins are cruel and injurious. unless very slack. it is the resml of a large number of tests made. in various butter and chew: factories, with no other teed. but ordinary pasta”: in summer Ind hay and straw in “inter. Let me say that the French thura. dian cow that duets not. give 6,000 lbs. ot milk in the year. when she receives reasonable care and food, is run. a good cow. 0n common pasture and dry hay and dry 'straw, with a hand- ful at bran in winter, she uughl to give from 4.500 to 5.0"" mu. of milk in (he year. is ibis mid: of good quamy? or course it All. The aver age percentage of Mabc,ock test in from 4 m 5 i-il. It is mummies C and 6 1-2 per cent. and humanly " high as a per cent. In "poking at avenue :1: hams: 4 lo 5 i-g nor vent. cry any and dry ulmw, With a hand- ful at bran in winter, she otaght to give from 4.500 to 5.0"" lbs. of milk in the year. In um miik of good quamy? or counts it a. The aver- age percentage of Mabc,ocir teat In from 1 m 5 i-g. It is sumetimea I and 6 1-2 per cent. and {runway u high a: a per cent. In speaking at tveruge as being t to 5 ru per vent, it is [he retguit of a large number of can. Ks mn.l.. i-. .-__ ..i. ___- L... A.,_ ,.,J When the little Canadian - in properly fed she repays well for the trouble and expense. as proved by the following result obtained from the cow Pruniere ITU, the property of the Hospital du SatrriA3oeur, Quebec. She calvod on the 38th of August, 1898, when four years old. end was milked until July ma, being due to can. again on the at» of the same month, During these 318 days she gave 11.3"! lbs a milk, or a daily avenge of 35 tba. She weight! about W.5 lbs. Her daily food Cousiazed of cut my 10 lbs. cut straw c, tus, ensilage 20 Ills. bran 2 lbs, cottonseed and meal g Itm. The is mixed and [unwanted for gt hour. in advance. She “as kept all this time in the rumble. The cow Azilzn do Levin 9iiti given 6.000 lbs. ot milk a year on pasture alone in summer. and on lit lbs. of dry hay and t lbs. of grain. one. bran and oil cake, dmly in winter. As milkery they no the but cowl at any of the breed: in cm be. the average farmer. Tur will not give the large quantum. at milk yielded by the uulswinu or ovou sou. Ayrshire: in one day. or one week. but they Will give a (and quantity daily trum cult to call. and the tutu for the year wall be surpassing. usual- ly larger than that. given by olhu broods. The, difference in their favor will be tstill mow evident when the cost of keeping in consider“. CATTLE. Very only in the We" at America. some time helm 1065, e number at smell block or brown oottlo were II- trodueed into what on now the Gene- dien provinces, writee J. A. Canton. of Quebec. They come tron: France end were etrictly dairy aatimau, ro- oembllng the Jerseys in e general my. These cattle were not ellowed to croo- with other breeds. and for over 300 year- were kept very pure and took the nuns of trench Canadian. They become quite numervus. hung peculiar- ly adapted to condition- in Cathode. In 25 counties in Quebec praotioallr no other cattle are kept. Ther on the eesieet kept of all breede of oat. tle, and also the hardleet. The] tr. free from tuberculoele. Their tesata are large, consequently they or. our ily milked. In color, they ere ootid black, or black with yellow strip 0- back end around muzzle. or brown with black polnls, or wild (own. Bu, few faran nurses need about Wide tires save much horse HARDY FRENCH CANADIAN FEED] NG ROOTS so ”Moulds Io please yu- not alway- knuw your "" 1M.- tttttLM, tow can“. r at food u [ and band- n to milk mm Q T” t? H