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t Death in a tal Fire. e men and one 1 about thirty » a fire which i the sanitarâ€" t. Luke‘s Sociâ€" ‘abash avenue r the greater received into hose _ seeking bit, and those n, although : list of dead is as follows : @H, Call & igton, Samuel m ; George A. i.. Wm. Kent h Ward, Chiâ€" )man, Mrs. M. . 78 vears of id raise _ ladâ€" he rear, some x being burned to get to the were in front eir only hope form of a fire ow just west. doing, aund 23 rAke out there r a number of ) delirium tree vere deranged { these were 8, and it was e them, so rape J through the â€"One Woman of the Deadâ€" briate Asylum nes â€"An Awful men lying on x smoke, and 18 donbtful ' C P heir Places will be found Identified, . . RNED PEATH, Inc K witu lhis atâ€" The Alderâ€" ily blind for iight jacket, B T0 BED 11s â€" waist r shaft â€" & N e second isement c upper As the building 18, and ed sevâ€" lows to that the m e is they rtion of :\ down, ‘y were mrpose ‘vr direcâ€" ie _ fire teadily window anding. r that g&h that n 8. Wa8 recery l pro strong io wimâ€" ich to sCreeD M before » help na blo «lical n aAs lower ouble, with n bas a ptch t had W ndow winâ€" id on iron and rowd ifterâ€" TS h to re m winâ€" and able fastâ€" N h * his winâ€" OO ntly Wi winâ€" ne i to lace so ible Ho dieâ€" and at itio the it "Ab, yes; I bad both seen and loved â€" her before . she came to Welr Cottags," he confessed. "I will teill . you how _ it hapâ€" pened. Three yearse Ago I was visiting friends who resided some distarce from Croome. They are gone abroad now, and will never returr: to England. I went to bid them farewell. I was always fond of beautiful scenery, and one sunâ€" ny morning I started off alone for « ramble, and found myself in the (Croome woods. I walked om, wishâ€" ing to see the Hall. I passed by the pleasance, and _ there, reading unâ€" der a large cedar tree, I first saw Blanche grew. I need not tell you how beautiful she is, nor how beauâ€" tiful she looked, her goliden bair CHAPTER V. "No doubt, Miss Wood, you think that I began to loveo Miss Carew when I first saw her a year ago?" sald Mr. Chariton, raising his eyes guddenly from the flowers over which they had been lingering for several minut es. "I imagined so," I replied. "I was not aware that you had seen her beâ€" "If you think I coulid be of serâ€" vice to you, I shall hear it with inâ€" tberest," I replied. I ought, perhaps, to have been more angry with him, io have reproached him vehemently with the wrong he had contermplated, but his sorrow and his humility disâ€" armed me. Ho sat down again and took the flowetrs in his hand. For some few minutes his eyes lingered uEnn them, anmit I knew thon that in his heart he was saying farewell to Blanche Carew. "I wish," interrupted Mr. Charl ton, "you would lat me tell you my history. You are a good woman, Miss Wood, and I have never had a good woman for my friend. I never had a true friend. Perhaps, if you knew all my story, you would be that to mm now." ‘"Your secret will remain one so far as I am concerned," I said, ris Ing. "In a few days, when you have had time to reflect, we will talk about plans for the future; at presâ€" ent, let me ask you to write those letters at once." "I am, Miss Wood," he replied, frank!yâ€""I am glad for her sake; although losing herâ€"losing the hope of wlnninf herâ€"will take from my desolate life the only joy it ever knew. Still, for her sake, I am glad I cannot commit the crime I hbad taught myself to consider no crime at all." "Let your better self answer me, Mr. Charlton," 1 said. "Aro you not glad that it is so ?" "I will," he cried; "I promise you. I love her so madly thait I have rigked much for her sake; but something told me all along that my secret would be discovered." let the sin rest there; do not be wicked, because a great trouble has fallen upon you." * I saw tears shining in his eyes. "Thank you," he said, gently, "you speak to me as a friend. Tell me what to do, and I will do it." "There is but one course open to you," I replied. "Write atonce to Mr. Carew, and tell him that circumâ€" stances have arisen which cause you to withdraw your appiication for his daughter‘s hand. Write to Blanche and ask her to lat you be her friend and not her lover.‘ *‘ beautifu! girl you have been thrown into contact with," I continued; "but "No," he said, earnestly; "I should sever do that." "I can understand how lonely your life must be, how isolated, and {\ow you have learned to love the bright, "! shall do nothing," Ianswered. "But I ask justice of you; tell Mr. and Miss Carew you withdraw your Bulitâ€"that is the oanly thing that conceras me. I have seen with my ewn eyes that, although your wife ba concealed, she is kindly cared for. I have no fear; in spite of your harsh words, you will never harm the woâ€" man who is more helpless than a child." "Then what do you mean to do? bhe asked. "I am in your hands, suppose," he added. "No," 1 replied, vehemently: "I woula not for ali the wealth of the Indies tell Blanche Carew how you have insulted her. You do not know bher if you think she would bear it calmly." "You are right," he said, dreacily. "Do not judge me too unkindly, Miss Woodâ€"you cannot tell how 1 have sullered. What are you going to do with your discovery?" he asked, sudâ€" denly. "Of course you intend to exâ€" pose me, as the world phrases it. You will go to Miss Carew, and tell her what a villain 1 am, what a1 esâ€" cape she has had." "I knowl1I am wrong," he muttered; "but I love her, and I said to myâ€" weli that she, my curse and â€" torâ€" meoat, was dead. Can you call a life like here living ?" "Yes," I said, ca‘mly, "she is livâ€" ing; and men, Mr, Chariton, men with human hearts, do not speak so of their wives, however afflicted they ber. You think only of yourself. Have you no thought, no consideration for the false and cruel position in which you would place her ?" " Bhe does not," L answered ; "and even if she didâ€"if she loved you as blindly, as masdlyâ€"ah ! and fet me say it, as sinfully as you ilove herâ€"she would still rather die than bear to koow the snare you have laid for it ds Ns fl ’ ' d. 1 MONSOONâ€"The most delicious Breakfast Tea in the worl +TRX IT. T . t uen 9+ It is a good many years since the good wrought by Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills was lirst recorded in ‘the columns of the Aun, but during that period the sterling merit of the medicine fhpas increagsed its reputaâ€" tion, and every day adds to the number of those who have _ found health through the use of _ these famous pills. Many of this town have {reely spoken of the benefit they have derived from the use of Dr, Williams‘® Pink Pills, and to these another is added in the person of Miss Victoria Widdis. To a reporter of the Sun, who had heard of her cure, Miss Widdis said:: "Several years ago I became very much run down; 1 {elt tired all the time, my bloodl was watery and I was in what the physicians called an anâ€" aemic condition. I _ was always weary and worn out, not able to do anything and yet not â€" sick enough to be in bed. My heart bothâ€" ered me with its constaot palpitaâ€" tion, brought about by my extreme weakness. My â€" appetite failed me and 1 was gradually growing worse. 1 had heard and read of Dr. Wilâ€" liams‘ Pink Pilis, and decided to give them a trial. After using them a short time a decided change was mroticeable and it is no exaggeraâ€" tioua to say that I felt like an enâ€" tiwrely different person. _ My appeâ€" tite returned and with it good blood and strong nerves. 1 can conscientiously say for Dr. Wilâ€" liams‘ Pink Pills that they did me more good than I can teli To &il weak, nervous, easily tired, _ run down women, I say by ali means give Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills a trial and you will be delighted with the result." It is because these pills make rich, red blood that they cure such troubles as anaemia, shortness of breath, headache, palpitation of the heart, rheumatism, erysipelas, St. Vitus‘ dance, and the functional ailâ€" ments that make the lives of so many . women a source of constant misâ€" ery. The genuine pille always bear the fall name, "Dr. Willlams‘ Pink Pills for Pale People," on the wrapâ€" por on every box. Sold by all dealâ€" ers or sont by majll aÂ¥ 50 cents a box, or six boxes for $2.50, by adâ€" dressing the Dr. Williams‘ Medicine Co.. Rrockvilie, Ont. ; _ * Given in the Story of One Who Had Suffered and Has Fouud Renewed Health and Strength. (From the Sun, Orangeville, Ont.) To Weak, Nervous and Easily Tired Women. "I knew Mr. Carew would wish to retire to some outâ€"o[â€"theâ€"way place. The bouse be lives in is mine, alâ€" though he does not know it. I told my solicitor to offer it to him at a very low rent, and as though it were his own property. He did so, and the old man eagerly accepted it. I was not misled by ‘the story he told of going to live in Fraree. 1 knew he would be glad to take Weir Cottage, and thus 1 came here to live at Woodieigh Grange. "I do not offer one excuse for my conduct, Miss Wood. I have none ; but perhaps when you hear the story of my youth and my wrongs, you may judge me mercifully. 1 must go back to the‘ wrong done to my father before me, in order that you may understand mine. my deep love for the young girl I had seen and dreamed of ever since. I know it was wrong. I do not exâ€" cuse mysel{. I was aware that I was bound by a sacred tie, but I loved her, and I _ had never loved before. "The deeds of the estate were given over to me, and virtually I became master of Croome. Only one motive prompted me in all I didâ€" "By a strange coincidence, it hapâ€" pened that my solicitor in London was the very man that Mr. Carew entrusted with the settlement of his affairs. To him he revealed the estate. At that time, Mr. Lees, the solicitor, had been commissioned by me to lend out, on a good mortgage, the sum of money that had been left me. When he told me of Mr. Carew‘s application, I was delightâ€" ed. I instructed him to lend _ the money, but forbade him to mention my name in the business. I need not say that I was quite a stranger to Mr. Carew ; I bhad never seen him. "I do not know whether you beâ€" lieve in love at first sight," he conâ€" tinued, "but from that moment the image of the young girl, in hber fair, girlish beauty, has never left my mind. I tried, but could not forget her. I made many pilgrimages _ to Croome Wood, but I never saw her under the cedar tree again. I loved her, Miss Wood, with the deep, true love of a man‘s heart, and I have loved her ever since. e falling like a veil over her, and the sunbeams playing upon it. She raised her fair young face as I passed by, but she rarely noticed "My grandfather was a very wealâ€" FRIENDLY ADVICE " I was so young and so inexperiâ€" enced in the ways of the world that I was hardly to blame for falling into the trap laid for me. ‘The <pretty smiling young face that blushed and brightened for me, the kind, flatterâ€" ing words that soothed and charmed my boyish vanity, the kindness shown to me, & @tranger in a stranage countryâ€"all led me on. It «did not seem strange to me, as it woulé have seemed to one older, that the wealthy merchant should evidently be so anxious to see me married to his daughter and heiress I know Alice would be very rich; he, her father, told me often and often of her fortune, and how hara he had worked for it. If I had been o~lder or more worldlyâ€"wige, I should have wondered "Time after time I was invited there, and the some thing invariably cecurred.. Mr. and Mrs. Dormer loadad me with attentions andi kindness ; he solicited my advice, and said more than once that if heaven had but favored him with such a son his hapâ€" piness would have been complete. ‘"The next Sunday Mr. Dormer made me go home to dine with him. After dinner Alice sang and played. On some pretext or another the merchant and his wife both withâ€" drew and 1t us together. es ‘"You will perhaps‘smile, Miss Wood, when I tell you that then, in my twentieth year, with the world beâ€" fore me, my heart at rest, and no shade of trouble upon me, I was conâ€" sidered a handsome young man. The merchant‘s daughter was very pretâ€" ty. I need not describe her â€" poor Alice! you have seen her face as to some extent it was, and as it is. I had mixed so little in society that I thought the blugshing, smiling young face, with its frame of golden brown hair,one of the loveliest in the world. I cannot tell you how it happened, but in a hundred ways that evening Alice Dormer showed that she liked and admired me. My vanity was flatâ€" tered, but no warmer feeling roge in my heart for her. "My destination was San Domingo. How I have hated that place ever since! The first year I was there I worked very hard. I never went inâ€" to society ; I made no friends ; time, thought and energy were all devoted to the acquisition of money. "One eveni business took me to the house of ugr. Dormer. He was a retired merchant who had been in a large business at Cuba. I was introâ€" duced to his wife and daughter. _ "I had an especial gift for lanâ€" guages. I could speak French, Spanâ€" ish, German and Italian, and speak them well. I had studied as men do study when they have a set purpose in life; and before I had finished my nineteenth year I was offered an exâ€" cellent and lucrative appointment in the West Indies. Proud and elated at my unusual good fortune, I bade adiew to home and the parents I loved so well, and took my first step in life with a light heart. see my mother once more surrounded with luxuries, and I dedicated my life to work. % own sake, not for my own pleasure, but that my father might be happy againâ€"that he might take the poâ€" sition that rightfully belonged to himâ€"that he might one day be as rich as his brother who had supâ€" planted him. I knew my motives were mixedâ€"some good, some evil; but I am sure the strongest of all was love for my parents. I wanted to f they are troubled with constipaâ€" tion, diarrhoea, or ‘any of the ills that afflict little ones, give them Batby‘s Own Tablets. This medicine will give reliel right away, making sound, reéfreshing sleep possible. â€" It will put children on tha high road to health at once. _ It is doing this toâ€" day for thousands of children in all parits of the country. Mrs. R. L. McFarlane, Bristo‘, Que., says: "I take pleasure in testifying to the merits of Baby‘s Own Tablets. I have used them for my baby since she was three mounths old, and preâ€" vious to using them she was a deliâ€" cato child. She is now quite the reâ€" verse, as she is plumg, healthy and strong. [ think Baby‘s Own Tablets the best medicine in the world for little ones." These Tabléts are good for children of all ages, and dissolved in water or crushed to a powder they can be given with absolute safety to the youngest, weakest baby. Guaranâ€" teed to contain no opiate or harm{ual drugs. Sold by all dealers at 25¢ a tox, or sent postpaid by writing diâ€" rect to the Dr. Williams‘ Medicine Co., Brockvilic, Ont., or Schenectady, Baby‘s Own Tablets Make Children Weil and Keep Them Weli. If your children are subject to colic, indigestion or any stomiach trouble, "From my earliest youth one amâ€" bition burned within me. Ihad one dream, one thought, one ideaâ€"and it was to make money. Not for my 4C" , _Be° Rad no prolession, and it was with difficulty he made his way in the world at all afy mother was a gentie, patient woman. She had loved my father when he wase the supposed heir, and she would not deâ€" sert him when he became a peoniâ€" less, brokenâ€"down man. They were married, and I was their only child. From my earliest boyhood I had a keen sense of the wrong done to my father, I felt that he had suffered all his life for it, an? I should do the same ; but for tha injustice, I in my turn should have been the heir of Marston, 1 C "It was a cruel and unjust deed ; lt‘ spolled my life, as you will see. MWOKE Un itb vdalifiiceccintvinasal ~ i "It was shamefully â€" unjust. My uncle Raymond was not a generous man, elther ; he never made the least attemptl to rectify the wrong his faâ€" ther had doneâ€"he never offered his brother one farthing of the vast wealth so unfairly given to him, and my {ather was too proud to ask.. He passed through life a brokenâ€"hearted man; he had no profession, and it thy man. He had but two childrenâ€" my {ather, his eldest son, ani my unâ€" cle Raymond, his second and best beâ€" loved. . His estate was not entailed, but my father, being the eldest, was brought up to consider himsel{ 15 beâ€" ing the heir. I cannot teli you how or why he and his father quarreled, but they xiid so ; and one day my father was turned ignominiously from Marâ€" ston Manor, the home he had always thought would be his â€" The quarrel was a desperate one, for father and gon never met or spoke again. When my grandiather died he left the whole of his fortuns to his secord son, Raymond ; while to my father, who had been brought up as the heir, he“({ld not leave one shilling. HEALTH FOR LITTLE ONES. rohâ€"c Avvetopue s 2 es k Hocmndiinne The ostrich is believed to see obâ€" jects behind him as well as those in front. Persons standing directly beâ€" hind an ostrich can see the pupils of his eyes, and are thus easily saen by the animal. f \g® All men of genius are said to have eyes clear, slowâ€"moving and bright. This is the eye which indicates mental ability of some kind, it does not matter what. y As is Being Proved Every Dayâ€"Operations, With All Their Risk, Expense and Danger, Frequently Fail, But You Can Rely on. Jt is said that the prevailing colors of eyes among patients of lunatic asylums are brown or black. ¢ Eyes placed close ‘together in the head are said to indicate pettiness of disposition, jealousy and a turn for Taultâ€"finding. Unsteady eyes, rapidly jerking from side to side, are frequently indicaâ€" tive of an unsettled mind. Oysters are provided with eyes, but the oyster‘s eye is not located where public opinion placesit. What is called the eye of the oyster is the great mauscle which holds the shells toâ€" gether, and which is separated by the knife of the opener. Brown eyes are said by oculists to be tha istrongest. The eyes shoyd not be used in weakness or‘ sickness. . A red objeot is not nearly so visible at a distance as one of wnite. A red globe a foot in diameter can be perâ€" ceived clearly only at a distance of 8,000 feet, and a blue glass a little furither. It seldom happens that both eyes are exaclly alike. An examination with a magnilying glass usually disâ€" covers many differences botween the two. The iris of the eye is rarely of one color but commonly mottled with black, blue, orange, yellew, grey or all combined. t The utility of shedding tears is to keep the eyes cool, though the balâ€" ance of the head may be hot. Homer attributed a protruding eye to Juno. He called her the oxâ€"eyed Juno. m People of melancholic temparament rarely have clear blue eyes. The chameleon is almost the only reptile provided with an eyelid. _ Eyes with long, 'sha.rp corners inâ€" dicate great discernment and peneâ€" tration. t t Eyes of any color with weak brows and long, concave lashes, are indicaâ€" live of a weak constitution. "Once or twliee after we were marâ€" rled I saw a strange expression, a look that almost frightened me, upon my wife‘s face. The fatal truth never occurred to me until one day when I discovered all. " You must bear in mind, Miss Wood, how little I Jad seen of the young girl I was in some measure half compelled to marry. If I had been independent. not all Alice Dorâ€" mer‘s money would have tempted me to make her my wile. Ishould never have fallen in love with her, but as it was I had allowed myself to be flattered and coaxed and persuaded. I had been left alone with her ten or a dozen times, but we had spoken very little; she generally sang little love songs to me. When once our wedding day was fixed I saw but very little more of her. Ofâ€" ten after that, when I called, she was not visible. It never struck me as strange. I went blindly enough to my fate. «foope foferfenf: sprofuefnops eprcfncieofs Grofcte tb coch db ie & «t n o +4 uB ue afe hn eP nhe ue e hn aht uhn oi on ufe ue uies Soofe ut pe ope ETTET vlu'kl.v €1M00D DCPR O RMPD DIERD EROICHMY " We were married. Mr. Dormer furnished a house for usâ€"a house that a few years ‘before I should have considered a palace. Ihad but three years longer to remain in San Domingo, and then I promised myself the happiness of taking my young wife and her fortune home. We never, to the best of my recolâ€" lection, had a rational conversation. I attributed her nsual silence to reâ€" serve and love. I was so entirely a stranger to love, its usages and customs that whenever I did not unâ€" derstand or was puzzled by her ways I laid them to that score. _ Nor did it strike me as being strange that the few acquaintances I had made in San Domingo expressed some surprise at my marriageâ€"that two or three asked me if it gould be posâ€" glible that I was going to marry Mr. Dormer‘s daughter. Ithought their surprise was at my good fortune. Not one of them had the courage, the sense. or the kindness to come forâ€" ward bravely and tell me the truth. _ "After three applications I felt better, and by *the to recovery. I continued the treatment untill thoroughly am firmly convinced that the ointment made a perfect ‘"After three applications I felt better, and by the time I had used one bex I was on a fair way to recovery. I continued the treatment urtll thoroughly cured, and I hare not suffered any since. I am firmly convinced that the ointment made a perfect cure. "I consider Dr. Chase‘s Ointment an invaluable treatment for piles. In my case I think the cure ;v.u rehn:m:"kl&ble. when you consider ithat I am getting up in years, apd had been so long a eulferer rom ithis digease." & .34 . This is ‘the only preparation guaranteed to cure every form of piles. 80 cents a{ bor, at all deal» It would be difficult to imagine a more difficult case of piles to cure than that described below. After twenty years of migery, Mr. McLaughlin was cured, and cured permanently. Mr. Alex. McLaughlin, for 30 years a resident of Bowmanville, Ont.. warites : ~_"For twent{ long years I euffered from itching piles, and only persons who have been ‘troubled with that annoy nT disease can imagine what T endured duzing that time. : About seven years ago E asked a druggist if he had aoything to cure me. He said that Dr. Chase‘s Ointment was most favorâ€" ably spoken of, and on his reeommendation I took a box. F T "Never was victim more docile. I was dazzled by her wealth. Half of it would maka my dear father a rich man. There was an end to all povâ€" erty. I pictured their delight at home when they should hear that I bad married a wealthy heiress. _ _ "It did strike me as somewhat strange that my pretty fiancee did little more than smile and â€" blush. why, wiih her great advantages, her fair girlish beauty, and her wealth, he could have ever consented to see her married to one so poor and inâ€" significant as mysel{. But he did so, and one evening he told me that he had noticed my evident love for his daughter, and that he only wished for her happiness ; therefore, when I ;vanted his consent I had but to ask or it. "I have almost cursed myself since for my folly. He had never seen any sign of love for Alice Dormer. I never did love her, poor girl. I was flatâ€" tered, embarrassed, and, above all, annoyed to think that that pretty young girl loved me. ITCHING PILES CAN BE CURED SOMETHING ABOUT EYES AND SHIGHT. (To be Continued.) DR. CHASE‘S OINTMENT ONTARIO ARCHI TORoNTo Plaoe. c i i lt cce is ~ h. EHOR n Next morning the Chief reâ€"appearâ€" ed on the platform with his "tail," and begged the acting stationmaster to show his Indians the locomotive in less bellicose mood, and if it were humanly possible to give them a short ride behind it. As there was really nothing Coing at the station the stationmaster decided to humor the young Chief‘s wish, and, hookâ€" ing an empty coal truck on to the locomotive, he told the driver to take them for a few miles‘ run along the line. Ubunu and his "tail" got into the coal truck, the «tationâ€" master Into the cab of the engine, and off they set. It was "fair and softly" for a‘ short distance from of the train could be heard in the distance. With straining eyes they watched the track to see the flying wonder they had heard of. But when the engine, with screaming whistle and two great lamps glaring like the eyes of a monster dragon, rounded the curve and came screaming toâ€" ward them, they fled like panicâ€" stricken rabbits to the nearest cover, leaving their chiel and the few white men on the platform to face the ganger._ ce . @bPIb4ARbbAbOOAi bédiHGA44AbLO4AqqQq Ubunu, the young King of Swaziâ€" land, appeared in full court dress, that is to say a fortyâ€"shilling slop suit, with a bowler hbhat, and atâ€" tended by his "tail" of Indunas â€" about a dozen nearly naked Swazis â€"on the station platform at Barberâ€" ton and waited patieatly until it was almost dark, wuen the rumble f Swagis‘ Fir.éf + Railroad Ride. wfhe oo ofe ce ce ol e o ofe o o ahe ohe o4 4 in en ip Go h hnd on fpietfy What Home Life Ought to be when the farm house is nothing better than a boarding house. It is not too much to say that the future life of many a bright boy or girl in this country has been a failure through too little attenâ€" tion having been paid to their yearning for home comforts. One of ‘the first things to be aimed at in operating a farm in this way is ‘to employ none but good men, and ‘then to do everything in reaâ€" somn ‘to make their lives comfortâ€" able. Farmers have no right, even gibility be his men in the siack part o the year. The employed also wourld not take undue advaniage of the emâ€" ployer because of a temporary scarcity of Jabor; would never shirk his work, but wouldl be faithâ€" ful in doing mis duty, whether his employer were with him or not, and would in all cases be ready to put Iort‘h_an extra effort at a busy time. In an idea) condition of affaire, the employer would never ask or expect bhis men to do mone work than was right or reasonable, and when hirâ€" ing would in all cases be ready and willing to give a fair and Jdust Remuneration for Services to be performed, and would endeaâ€" vor to carry out a system of {armâ€" &mg that would give employment to and this men to put in each day a solid day‘s Work All the Year Round amdl even then it is difficult to hold one‘s own among the keen competiâ€" tion. In these days when the comâ€" petition betweer capitar and labor nas become so tense that a dittle extra strain at any time may bring about the most serious results, it is a matter of no small importance for famers to consiler whether someâ€" Lbhing more cannot be done to put the dlabor question, as it affects the farim, on a better basis. e aXL § MANAGE] on & satisfactory basis as farm labor. ‘There ure various causes which tend to brimy about this state of things, aml perhaps none more so than the unreasonableness of emâ€" ployers. Socialists tell us that the workd coumd produce enough for itse needs if every man worked but half the number of hours that is now considered a working day ; but unâ€" fortunate‘y on our Canadian farms it seems necessary for the farmer Unquestionably there is nothing connected with the business of farmâ€" ing which gives us as much annoyâ€" ance or m.hi.ch is as difficult to get 1 MANAGEMENT OF FARM LABOR. o oot P nnalrien o cegpe h s The man who is born to rule ebhould never get married. were soon laughing 1nd taiking ‘m as lively as ever. At a ddlfi way to Avoocm, they hakted, e enâ€" gine changed ends, ang the rem journey began. Ubunu gave the that he would like a bit of speed put on, and ‘the driver, nothing loath, whipped her up until she was going between thirty and forty miles ar® hour. He imagined that the Awass would get the funks again, for the road was not very smooth, and the truck was jumping about a good deal, but he was mistaken. The Swasls had geen enough to satisly them mt he was master of the "Smoking rse," and a hundred miles an hour would no‘t have shaken their confidence. On returning to the station they fot out of the truck with ovident reâ€" uctance, but highly delighted with their adventure. The stationmaster was no longer a person ol conse quence. They crowded around the cab of the engine, made their most dutiful obeisance to the master of the Smokâ€" ing Hors> and his mate, and departed with shouts of "Inkoos, Inkoos !" (Thank you, my lord, thank you !)â€"4 The Seotsman. 14 Ubunu did his best to reassure them, but in vain, and some of them were on the point of jumping overboard to ercape a worske fate when, U‘nn shouted to the driver, and asked him pleage to slacken the pace. No sooner sald than done, and in little more than a mipute their speed was reâ€" duced to that of an ox wagon. . The Swazlse were quite reassured, and the start, and the Swazis secemed deâ€" lighted with the new seesation, but the driver put on speed, and when it got to about twenty miles an bhour his passengers were clearly in a great state of alarm ; they grasped the ‘side of the truck and _ gazed like paralytiecs at the rocks and trees flying past them. h HMHowever, owing to the conditions in which most farmers are placed, the larger number of farm hands are unmarried men, who are boardâ€" ed in the house, and this is most likely the state of affairs that will continue for some time to come. It is a difficult question to deal with and as far as both employer and employed are concerned, it is & most unsatisfactory state, largely awrising from the fagt that in many sections there is comparatively Little Work for One Half the Year and just so long as the farmer has to look out for new men evez spring, ard the good man fin himself digcharged at the first sign of winter or {)zlore. it will remain so, and no amount of philosophizing will put it right. The rapid extenâ€" sion of winter dairying during the past few years has done a great deal to ensure steady employmert the year round, but conditions are still unsatisfactory in many disâ€" triets. _ In conclusion, it may be said that as a general thing the best men are the cheapest. Try and get hold of good men and where conditions wilt admit of it, haze profitable emâ€" ployment ‘the year round, and use them as you would like to be used if you were in their circumstances. F. W. Hodson, Live Stock Commisâ€" sloner. be in keeping tiiem, if we, as emâ€" ployers, do our part. It is our duty to try to make them as comfortable as clrcumstances will permit. If we do so we may expect 1saithful ser vice, and from good men we will get it. Let the rwles be strictly laid down and adhbered to, and on no consideration keep a man after his time is out, if he has at any time given a word of imperitence. can be grown on the ground _ they would be more appreciated than by those who can alford to buy them. A cow is almost a necessity to a family on the farm, and an arrangeâ€" ment should be made to have it pasâ€" tured, but on no account have At wintered by the farmer. It is too severe a trial of human nature to allow a hired man to feed his cow from his employer‘s meal boxk, and is abmost sure to cause trouble. The faculty of getting on well with hired men on the farm is well worth cultivating. My own experiâ€" ence leads me to know that if you enâ€" gage good men, there is little trouâ€" to take up too much of their time, amd if a few apples and small fruite be mage comfortable. The gardens attached should be large enough to enable them to grow vegetables for their own use, but not so large as Then again it is a matter of the first importance that the men servâ€" ing shall be well treated. ‘Their houses if not large should at least Many a good boy has beex: @riven from home by tha; sort of txsatâ€" if they have the power, to make their men work from early mornâ€" ing until late at night, and looked at from no other standpoint thas that of personal gain. It is a very decided mistake, Incidentally, it may not be amiss to say that the farmer ought not to ask his sons to do what n»no reasonable man would expect his hired men to do. Treatment of the Men. it D {1 YÂ¥