dia lin BY MEX WELL D IN INDUSTRY omes a* k FiL RGED MOT} ARS|I on of on GROWING. the 1 or Cruitâ€"Growers® ogether Large Nelsor Monâ€" MY & 4 IURDER. iv onre v a s Â¥i« ‘ui. He got hold of this ranch by a lucky chance. An old hunter had got it for a song some years ago. He dig a gOOd deal of clearing and improving, till e came to the end of his cash, and got sick of being settled. So Wells bought it as it stood, cheap enough, then he found he hadn‘t a penny left. Just about time I wandered into San Francisco ’ met him, so we entered into partnerâ€" . I hope to buy him out by and by." "I think," said Mona, "were I a man, I should rather like the life; but it must be lonely." Positivem FREE FROM DUST, DIRT AND ALL FOREIGN , SUBSTANCES. "There are one or two things wanting â€"â€"still, one can not have everathing. You see, my friend and partner, V ‘atson, is a queer {ellow, sharp and clever in his "Oh, it would be terrible for a woâ€" man, I am afraid," said Waring, with a llfth. "I must take out some tough books with me, to provide for the winter evenâ€" h".n "How long shall you be in London*" "About a week." "It will be full. as it is near Easter. Shall you not look up some of your old friends? The contrast â€" would amuse you." "No, I have done with all that! There : are some relations of my father‘s on! whom I must callâ€"but I really do not| care to see any one else." l This conversation had lasted while they made a tour of the stony, heathery piece of lard outside the low, mossâ€" grown wall which inclosed the lawn and bit of pleasure ground, and came out upon the road leading to Kirktoun. As they paused to look at the sunset and just as Waring had uttered the last words, a gentleman on foot came round & turn of the road. Waring‘s brow conâ€" tracted; he glanced swiftly at his comâ€" panion, and exelaimed: "By Jove! it is Lisie!" In another moment Lisle was lifting his hat and shaking hands with Mona. _ "Waring!" he exclaimed in a tone of supreme surprise. _ "Waring! by all that‘s astonishing. _ Whereâ€"howâ€"what has brought you here*" "Chiefly railways and steamboats." "My uncle knew some of Mr. Waring‘s reople. They met in Glasgow, and Mr. Waring came back with him." "I thought you were lost forever!" etied Lise in a tone which did not express very lively pleasure at his turning up again. tss 14 older." R "Xow, Sir John, pray account for yourâ€" self," said Mona. "Your sudden appearâ€" ance requires explanation, as well as Mr. Waring‘s." "Does it?" said Lisle, flashing a quick glance into her eyes. "Well, Finistoun was coming north for a little rest and fishing, so, as we both had had enough of gl{ and festive scenes for the preâ€" sent, I came with him, and am staying in my old quarters at Kirktoun for a day or two. How is a‘ wi‘ ye *" as your quaint old uncle would say." "We are all remarkably well. He will be a goo deal surprise to see you." "More surprised than delighted, susâ€" M-†"It takes a good deal to delight Unele Sandy: but I think he was always placâ€" idly pleased to see you." «aAnd how goes the Highland cousin? Has he grown more reconciled to his uncle‘s plans*" "Oh, no!" cried Mona, laughing; "he is more irreconcilable than ever." "Well, hare I am, you see, considerably the better for a sojourn in the wils." "So oit seems! Why, you look years Then Lisle asked for Mme. Desbrisay, and described with cool sareasm the sutrâ€" prise and indignation of General Fielden‘s friends at that warrior‘s marriage. Waring was very silent. Mona‘s quick intelligence told how that each man wsa annoyed by the sight of the other; Warâ€" ing, of course, did not care to meet the man who had advised a step which led to pain and mortification; while the otherâ€"well, she understood his irritation clearly enough. " Won at Last "CALADA" Lisle ;;;pâ€"x;';od a good deal of London Lead packets only. 40c, si)c and 60; porâ€"lia. At all grocers. The Purest GREEN Tea Grown. CEYLON GREEN TEA coant ue C PBLe gossip before they reached the house, and was then duly _ introduced to Uncle Sandy. .. _ y en "Eh, but I‘m varra pleased to see you!" he said, with unusual warmth. "It‘s an uncommon time of the year for a Londoner to come amang the hills.". "Thanks; I shall be most ha.})py. I need not trouble your nephew. In your wellâ€"ordered country the roads are as safe at midnight as midday." "May be so, may be so. It will be lookin‘ brawly in another month, And now you‘ll tak‘ a bit o‘ supper wi‘ us. We have supper at eight, and Kenneth will put you on your way back." "Thanks; I shall be most ha.})py. I need not trouble vour nephew. In your "That‘s true!" emphatically. "I am glad you‘re aware of‘t. That great, lang, selfâ€"opeenionated young _ womanâ€"how d‘ye ca‘ her?â€"that just turned up her nose (more than nature had done for her) against Scotland to a Scotchman!â€" that wasna weelâ€"mannered for a lady that goes to the Queen‘s Court, they tell me." "You see, Craigdarroch always has its attractions." "Well, this fellow is about‘ up to her shoulder. and rather a doubtful personâ€" age. â€" They are fighting over settleâ€" ments at present; for though she is said to be fathoms deep in love, she does not like to lose her grip of the £. s. d." *‘ "Oh! the court is a regular olla podrida now," said Lisle. "A what? What tongue is that?" "Spanish. It means a general mixture." "Eh, powâ€"sowdie is the same thing; that‘s rale Scotch, and mair expressive and wiseâ€"like. Weel, that tall leddy would told her ain against the biggest powâ€"sowdie of a‘. Where is she?" __ _ "You mean Miss Morton. She is the most appaling female I know. She has captured a (Gireek prince, who goes to balls in a white petticoat, and says he is descended from Alcibiades." "Eh, he would be a shifty sort of a greatâ€"grandfather to have!" cried Uncle Sandy, who prided himself on being a "soond claussical scholar." "And varra right she is. Noo, the tea is ready, come awa‘ and have a cup." It was, on the whole, an uneasy sort of afternoon and evening. _A sense of unfitnessâ€"a want of harmony, oppressâ€" ed every one, though Mona and Kenâ€" noth did their utmost to entertain their guests. Both the girls sung and playâ€" ed and talked theiz best. Indeed, Mona was unusually gracious to Lisle, yet he was dissatisfied, and left Kenneth early, saying that he was bound to Lord Finisâ€" toun for the next day, but the following he would come to see them, as he was going back to town on Saturday night. At luncheon next day, when the post came in, Waring, after reading his letâ€" ters .anounced that he must start on Monday, that he had been away too long and it was time he returned. To Mona this was a cruel stab. He was. then, to vanish away from herâ€" this frank, kind, brave man, whose qualâ€" ities were the complement of her own, for whose troubles she felt responsible, and whose wounds it would have been the sweetest and most congenial lask to heal, and she dared not try to hold him! _ No: if it cost her her life, she could make no effort to reveal herself. He was her friend, and nothing more. Yoet a vague, dim belief breathed through her heart that he loved her still, to justâ€" ify which there was not a tittle of eviâ€" dence. "I did not know you were here," said Miss Black, coming into the drawing â€" room, the day after this visit, and findâ€" ing Waring seated with a book before him and his head on his hands. "Where is Mona*?" "She has gone out with Mr. Craig." "Will you come with me and look for them 1" "No, thank you, I am searching for one or two books I brought here, and I want to put them up. You see, I have on‘iy two days after toâ€"morrow." "I am sorry you are going away Warine." , Mr. "I am gratified to hear you say so. How sorry JA shall be to leave you all, it would not be easy to say." _ __ "Well, I think you look sadâ€"like, Mr. Waring. You must write Kenneth, and tell usâ€"all about yourself." "Mary!" exclaimed Waring, after a short pause, and not aware of his own familiarity, "what do you think brings that fellow Lisle here ?" "He says its fishing; and so it is, but not with a rod and line." "Then it is Mona*" Mary bent her head in the affirmaâ€" tive. "At least, 1 fancy so," she said. "He used to be here in the autumn, and Kenâ€" ;l;:th ,thought he would have asked her en." "I suppose it will be what is considâ€" ered a good match; but she is too good for him!" "You might say that of a good many." "You think so ?" "Yes. Don‘t you." "I do; and I suppose Miss Craig will soon be transformed into Lady Lisle." "I can not think so; she never seems to me to care about him. 1 have alâ€" ways imagined she loves some one we know nothing about; but I have no right to say so." :« "No, we have no right to conjecture what she feels or thinks; only J trust in God what she does, and whoever she chooses, she will be happy." ed by the new light that had broken in upon her, made proofs as strong as Holy Writ of the feeling entertained 1y Waring for her admired friend,. "And, oh! she does not care for him either, and he is honest and trueâ€"I am sure he is‘ thought Mary. "Stay, doesn‘t she care for him ? 1 am not so sure. Oh! where is Kenneth ? I will go and talk to him.‘ He left the room abruptly as he utter ed the words. "Ah!" exclaimed Mary, aloud, as she looked after him and then stopped to run over in her own mind a dozen or more of slight indications, ‘yhicn, viewâ€" The morning after the conversation rose bright and fair, though the night had been so stormy that between howlâ€" ing winds anl her own _ distressfal thoughts Mona got little sleep. "Yes, at present. _ Kenneth and Mr. Waring have gone to the fisher village, my uncle and Mary to the town." "I must go down to the fishers," said Kenneth, at breakfast. "I hear the two Mackilligans have ben nearly drowned, and their boat is stove in. Jock is seâ€" verely hurt. They were driven ashore in the gale last night. "I‘ll come with you," said Waring, "You are just killing yourself," said Uncle Sandy,â€"who was busy supping his porridge. "You look like a ghaist as it is! You‘ll no be fit for a lang journey if ye gang this gate." "Very well. Where is every one ? Are you all alone ?" * m "Oh! I am perfectly fit, I assure you, whatever my looks may be. _ If 1 did not rise up like a giant refreshed after the care and nursing I have had in this establishment. I should not be worth taking care of." "Weel, I dinna ken what‘s come to ye‘ a‘; there‘s Mona wi‘ a white tace, and you wi‘ a lang ane, and Kenneth like a bag o‘ banes. _ Mary is the best 0‘ ye. It is a comfort to look at a cheerfn‘, healthfu‘ countenance," said Uncle Sanâ€" dy, who had ben extremely fractious for the last ten days. "Pray leave my uncle alone," _ said Mona, smiling in spite of herself. * "Your compassion is wasted," she said, a slight smile curling her haughty mouth "Mr. Waring is mucl‘ improved, and he seems quite fireâ€"proof." & ~_ 3 _â€"""f he is, why he deserves to be callâ€" ed, in your uncle‘s parlance, ‘a varra remarkable person‘# °_ _ _ _ CE "What a compliment. Mary! I feel quite ashamed of myself!" cried Mona. "Let me know when you are ready to start," said Waring to Kenneth, and soon after the two young men started to see what asistance they could afford to the shipwrecked _ fishermen, Uncle Sandy calling out injunctions to Kenâ€" neth as he went not to commit him "to mend a‘ the broken boats in the parish." "And wha‘ll drive me into the toun ?" asked Mr. Craig. _ "I must gang to the bank, forbye the minister‘s and Jimmy "By all means." _ They waiked on in silence for some little way, and then Lisle exclaimed: _ "I never was so amâ€" azed in my life as when I saw Waring with you! _ It seemed as if he was to be your fate! What possessed him to come here to singe his wings again, poor devil " "Mary will go with gou, uncle, 1 have rather a headache, and I dare say Kenâ€" neth and Mr, Waring will be back by luncheon." "I did not sleep much, certainly. Then, if you will not have any luncheon, we will go to my favorite point of view, and look at the sea; it will be very tine toâ€"day." _ strir". ~at "No, thank you; I had luncheon early with Finistoun, who dropped me near this on his way to Balmuir. _ Ft is quite springâ€"like after the storm of last night. It kept you awake, I suspect. _ Your eyesâ€"those loadstone eyes of yoursâ€" droop.". 3 & * Tulloch‘s." It was a relief to Mona to be ajone, but it oppressed her to be within doors. She got her hat and threw a plaid round her shoulders, intending to commune with her own heart in the fresh, sweet air. "Here‘s ane comin, mem," said the girl, and Lisle came up the steps as she snoke. "I must put away this deplorable weakness. _ Where is my pride, that I can not resist this overwhelming tenâ€" derness for a man who does not care for "If the gentlemen return and ask for me, Jessie," she said to her housemaid, who was doing some extra dusting in the hall, "I shall be by the wood, at the big oakâ€"tree seat." first ? â€""Going to walk ?" said that gentleâ€" man, cheerfully; "may L,come, too ?" _ "Will you not have some lunchson 999 “punc‘ "Then the fates are at last propitiâ€" ous!" cried Lisle. . "I have been singulâ€" arly unlucky as regards yourself of late. Now pray sit down" (they had reached the rustic bench), "and hear me, _ You have slipped from my grasp over and over again; you must hear me toâ€"day." a _ Mona cast a troubled look around, and then suddenly took courage, resolving to make an end of the matter. _ ""TE;,"’ she said, nervously, and someâ€" what louder than usual, "I will hear you, Sir St. John." mpgale DHH + M.Shve"s;{ -d_c;wn, and he placed himself beside her. & * "Of course you know what I am going to say. _ You knowâ€"you must knowâ€"â€" that I loved you from the first hour we met, and that although in justice to you I made the unselfish effort to commend your marrying Waring, when poor Mrs. Newburgh met with such losses, I do not suppose you can form any idea of what it cost me.‘ "I am sorry to have caused you pain," said Mona, in a low tone. "I am sure your advice was disinterested." _ "It was indeed. I confess I was surâ€" prised at the worldly tact with which you adopted my suggestion." _ â€""I was â€"c_tl-r(-{:\x'-ll;g;onlght up in a good school," said Mona, domur_e_ly_. M "No school on earth could have given you the indespensible charm nature has bestowed," cried Lisle, passionately. "I never loved any woman as I love you. Mona, do hear me. Cast away this cold sweetness, that is enough to madder any man. Give me your love, give me & right to it." He seized her hand, which she withdrew. "There was a time when your" hand trembled in mine, andâ€"â€"-:: Art n Cl ioi hsn tdcan & "My nerves are much steadier now," she said, calmly. ‘It is treachery to let you say more, when I have nothing to give in return, and it pains me infiniteâ€" ly to pain you, but I can not be your wife." "Then there is some infernal mystery at the bottom of it. First you throw Waring over in the most unaccountable manner; now you reject me. You prefer the awful seclusion of this wild place, the society of these educated plowmen, to the world my wife could command. Mona, you can not be indifferent to such passionate love as mine, unless you love some one else. "That does not follow," she returned, uneasily, and very anxious to get rid of him. "Who is it," persisted Lisle, who was raging with mortification and disappointâ€" ment. "Can it be that the hero of the rejected addresses has found favor in your eyes after all,â€"a great overgrown schoolâ€"boy, who is weak enough to let himself be robbed _ and plundered by professed gamesters and designing proâ€" moters, and then skulks off to hide himself in the wilds of California, like other defeated desperadoes. Your first instinct was right, when you rejected a man who was unfit to be your proâ€" tector." There is only one thing a womar loves better than to be told a secret, and that is to find it out for herself. "Stop!" cried Mona, moved by a genâ€" erous impulse to do justice to the man she loved. "Your judgment was right. My instinct, if it was instinet, was wrong. Mr. Waring deserved my love, and he has it! You are again right, you see. He has shaken off the feeling which made him so eager to thro whimself between me and the ruggedness of povâ€" erty, and I have learned to know him when it is too late. Your confession deserves confidence on my part. I feel I can trust my secret to the loyalty of a gentleman; and though I am not the woman to throw myself at the feet of one who is indifferent to me, as Leslic Waring is now, I am not ashamed to own that he has my gratitude, my resâ€" pect, my heart, and in it there is no room for another." The tone in which she uttered these words, the indescribable dignity and tenderness of her air, of the slight gesâ€" ture of the hand with which she emâ€" phasized her speechâ€"touched and silâ€" enced Lisle. } According to the statement of an ofâ€" ficial connected with the management of the public buildings and grounds at the capital at noon in summer the apex of the monument, 550 feet above the ground, is shifted, by expansion of the stone, a few hundredths of an inch toâ€" ward the north. _ High winds cause perâ€" ceptible motions of the plummet, and in still weather delicate vibrations of the crust of the earth, otherwise _ uper ceived are registered by it. a midsummer‘s day without a slight bending of the gigantic shaft that is renâ€" dered perceptible by means of a copper wire, 174 feet long, hanging in the cenâ€" tre of the structure and carrying a plum met suspended in a vessel of water. _ ‘You are an extraordinary girl," he said at length; "andif Waring does not love you (I suppose you must know), it seems incredible. Well, if he does not, I do not despair. You are, worth winâ€" ning. I will not trespass on you any longer; but I will not say goodâ€"byeâ€"I shall seek you again when the sea rolls between you and the most unlucky dog I have ever known or heard of. To be loved by you, and not to know it, What irony of fate. For the presentâ€"sweetâ€" est and most provoking of womenâ€"fareâ€" well." Washington Monument Bent by Rays of Old Sol. The towering Washington monument, solid as it is, cannot resist the heat of the sun, poured on its southern side on When mothers become â€" enthusiastic over a medicine for little ones, it is safe to say that it has high merit. Every mother who has used Baby‘s Own Tablets speaks strongly in favor of them, and tells every other mother how much good they have done her children. Mrs. Alfred Marcouse, St. Charles, Que., says. "I strongly advise every mother t keep Baby‘s Own Tablets in the house always. I have used them for teething troubles, colic and other ills of childhood, and found them the most satâ€" isfactory medicine I ever tried." These Tablets are guaranteed to contain no poisonous opiate and no harmful drug. They are equally good for the new born baby or the well grown child, and are a sure cure for all their minor ailments. Sold by medicine dealers or by mail at 25 cents a box by writing The Dr. Wilâ€" liams‘ Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. ENTHUSIASTIC MOTHERS. BENT BY THE SUN. (To be continued.) Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills Cure Obstinate Indigestion After Other Medicines Fail "When I was first troubled with inâ€" digestion I did not bother with it. I thought it would pass away naturally. But instead of doing so it developed into a painful chronic affection, which in spite of all I did grew worse and worse until I had abandoned all hopes of ever getting relef." These words of Mrs. Chas. McKay, of Norwood, N. 8., should serve as a warning to all who suffer disâ€" tress after meals, with palpitation, drowsiness and loss of appetiteâ€"early warning of more serious trouble to follow. "I used to rise in the morning," said Mrs. McKay, "feeling no better for a night‘s rest. I rapidly lost flesh and after even the most frugal meal I always suffered severe pains in my stomach. I cut my meals down to a very few mouthâ€" fuls, but even then every morsel of food‘ caused agony. My digestion was so weak some days I could scarcely drag myself ‘ about the house, and I was never free from sharp piercing pains in the back and chest. I grew so bad that I had to limit my diet to milk and soda water, and even this caused sevore suffering. In vain I sought religfâ€"all medicines I took seemed useless, But in the darkest hour of my sufferiny help came. While reading a newspaper I came across a cure that was quite similar to my own case, wrought by the use of Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills. J thought if another person hsd been cured by these pills of such suffering as I was experiencing, surely there was hope for me, and T at once sent to the druggist for a supply of these pills. The first indication that the pills were helping me was the disappearâ€" ance of the feeling of oppressiga. Then I began to take solid food with but little feeling of distress. _ I still continued taking the pills, with an improvement every day, until 1 could digest all kinds of food without the least trouble or distress. I am in splendid health toâ€" day and all the credit is due to Dr. Williams‘ Pink PiUs." Dr. Williams‘® Pink PiHs« go right to the root of indigestion and other tromâ€" bles by making rich, red blood, which tones and strengthens every organ of the body. That is why they cure anaeâ€" mia, with all its headaches and backâ€" aches and sideaches, rheumatism . and neuralgia, and the special ailments of growing girls and women of all ages. Sold by all medicine dealers or by mail at 50 cents a box or six boxes for $2.50 by writing the Dr. Williams‘ Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. Shadows Fall Upon Marble Arcs, Markâ€" ing the Time to Minutes. The largest sun dial in the world is at Delhi, in India. Dr. Riem, of the Royal Astronomical Institute in Berlin, has recently completed the difficult task of making a model of this gigantic picce of work. About 1650â€"the exact date is not knownâ€"Jai Sing II., influenced proâ€" bably by the Jesuits, erected at Delhi, Benares and other places observatories, the ruins of which still exist. The natâ€" ives know little or nothing of the meanâ€" ing of these ruins and reports of Engâ€" lish travelers of the eighteenth century hand as to the form and use of the muâ€" ral instruments. The peculiarity of this work, giving it a unique position among the astronomâ€" ical monuments of the world, is that wall and instrumént are one. It is one of the oldest which have been preserved (the oldest in Europe being the Leyden observatory, bukt in 1632), and here were determined the obliquity of the ecliptic, the length and breadth, deâ€" clination and position of the equinoctial lines. A narrow flight of stone steps like a ladder parallel with the axis of the earth leads straight upward. Its supporting walls are smooth marble and the shadow falls upon great marble arcs, built out at the right and left, and marks the time when the sun is shining to minutes. Galleries and steps allow access from all sides The platforms of the building _ were once used, probably, for smaller portable instruments, which have fallen to pieces. Before the year 4300 Englishmen found the building used for horse stalls. This equatorial gnomon is about 58 feet high, the length of the circle about 19 feet. â€" Near it stand the ruins of an obliquely inclined astronomical~construcâ€" tion whose purpose is unknown. In all the great crowds that attended the funeral of Mrs. Jefferson Davis, in Richmond, Va., there were few more conspicuous figures than that of James H. -‘Imson. a negro 70 years old. He drove the Davis family carriage, as he had driven it at the funerals of Jefferâ€" son Davis and o* Miss Winnie Davis. He was Jefferson Davis‘ body servant in the old days, and was with him at the time of his engture. In all the years since then he has been devoted to the family and a familiar figure at Confedâ€" erate reunions. He is tall and straight as the Indian mother from whom he proudly claims descent. The observations seem to have been longer continued at Benares, the resiâ€" dence of the great Moguls. At least Dr. Riem was able, guided by information from English sources of the eighteenth century, to reconstruct some «mall inâ€" struments which were still known at that time in Benares. But the saying "ex oriente lux," apâ€" plied to the science of astronomy, seems to have no great significance here, for in spite of the construction of this obâ€" servatory no accurate results were obâ€" tained. Each Meal an Agony. GREAT SUN DIAL IN DELHI NTARIO ARCHIVES TORONTO True to the Family. Press bulletin from the Ontario Agriâ€" cultural College, Gueliph, Canada. . By Prof. . J. S. Bethune. The time of year has now arrived when most of our insect foes have ceased their active work, and are withdrawn from obâ€" servation and consequently most people come to the conclusion that the season‘s fight is over and that nothing need at present be done. _ But this is very far from being the case. There are many destructive insects that can be more easâ€" ily dealt with now than at any other time of the year. * [z y First and foremost the Peaâ€"weevil. The losses from this insect have beon very much lessened during the last two seasons in Ontario, but this does not mean that we have got rid of the trouw ble. â€" The insect is still with us, but beâ€" ing in greatiy reduced numbers can the more easily be dealt with, If there is the least suspicion of the presence of the tiny beetle in the newlyâ€"harvested peas, they, and in any case peas intended for seed should be at once treated with hbiâ€" sulphide of carbon which will kill every one that is exposed to its fumes. The method is familiar enough; put the peas in an airâ€"tight cask or bin, and place in an open pan on top of them one ounce of the bisulphide to every 100 Ibs. of peas (a bu-ï¬el weighs about 60 lbs.), cover up tightly and leave for 48 hours. Then open up either out of doors or where there is a thorough draft of air; do not allow any fire or light to come near it, as the vapor is very inflammaâ€" ble and explosive; every weevil or other insect among the peas will be dead and nonâ€"infested seed will be available tor next year. The same treatment should be used for the Beanâ€"weevil, which is a serious pest in some parts of the provâ€" ince, In addition to this treatment of the peas themscives, the peaâ€"straw and rubâ€" bish should be cleared up and burnt and all _ refuse where the threshing has been done should be similarly got rid of. This will destroy any weevils that have already come out and are hiding away for the winter. _ It will pay to do this whether the insect is known to be preâ€" sent or not. This brings us to the next important matter, namely, clean farming and garâ€" dening. _ All sorts of insects find their winter quarters in refuse, Many that infest grain take refuge in the stubble, others are sheltered by loose rubbish, others again hide in tufts of grass, amâ€" ong the weeds in fence corners, under bark, wherever in fact there is shelter of any kind. _ Now is the time to turn them out and expose them to the frost and wet. Clean up and burn weeds of every kind, this will destroy many seeds as well as insects. _ Leave no heaps of rubbish anywhere. Gather up and add to the manure pile the leaves and staiks of roots, potatoes, etec. Plough up old pastures that are infested with white grubs or the larvae of Rose beetles. Scrape the rough bark off the trunks and limbs of fruittrees, but this may be done later on in the winter, . By keeping the farm, the orchard, and the garden clean, myriads of insects will be prevented from finding on the premises the shelter they need during the winter and will cither perish or go somewhere else for a hiding place, and thousands more that are in the egg or chrysalis stage will be destroyed, Many, no doubt, will think all this too much tronâ€" ble, but if they faithfully try it, they will soon find that it pays. ‘Thousands of Pounds Already Spent in a South African Hunt. Since the late Boer war a new phase of treasure hunting has been in vogue. Someone started a rumor that ere his deprature from the Transvaal the late President had a quantity of bar gold, variously estimated at a value ranging from one to several millions, conveyed up country and buried. The story receivâ€" ed so much credence that the British Government of Pretoria has provided special permits and police assistance to various person« who professed to be able to guide a seareh party to the hidâ€" imaaaiake. o _ e t y The degree of gullibility that even inâ€" telligent and educated men can attain when excited by treasure mania was amusingly illustrated by a wellâ€"known instance. A young Boer from the disâ€" trict supposed to contain the treasure called upon a doctor near Johannesburg and told a strange story. He said that one night while riding to the farm of a relative he saw lights in a wooded kloof or gorge, and reconnoitering cautiously he saw a party of men removing boxes from a wagon and burying them. Carefully noting the spot he got away unobsorved and returned next day, when he unearthed a box which on being broken open he found to contain bare of gold and quantities of Kruger soverâ€" cigns minted on one side only. In conâ€" firmation of the story he projuced three dises of gold which appeared to have been struck on one side with an imperâ€" feet die. It is estimated that more than £10, 000 has been expended by the various search parties that have undertaken the search for the Kruger millions.â€"Chamâ€" bers‘ Journal. ® His object in calling on the doctor was to borrow £50 in order to procure a wagon and oxen to remove the treasure. He was asked why he did not bring away the portable coin and thus make himself independent of outside financial aid. _ HMis explanation was ingenious. He feared to bring more lest he might be found with them upon him! Pity the Grocer. (Harper‘s Weekly.) Here is the substance of a notice plased so that every one can see it in a certain New York grocery store: "Disasters that occurred to three of our delinguent customers: . c omenl. .i "One sald, ‘I‘ll call toâ€"morrow if I live.‘ He‘s dead. + "Another said, ‘I‘ll see you soon.‘ He‘s bliad! "Yot another said, ‘I‘ll pay you Saturday or go to heli.‘ He‘s gone! s â€"*‘It makes a man inclined almost to fereâ€" go credit altoscthor." A s SEARCH FOR KRUGER‘S GOLD. m t can the "TEynPhy 7...c (&%A’u’ NOe Hie ‘can is old, but hls bair is golid And his face is clear as the sky And whoover he imeets, on lanes or BHe looks him straight in the ey« Wit ha fearless pride that has naugh: Though he bows like a little kniz Quite debonair, to a lady fair, With a smile that is swift as ligh We should remember past me and blessings,. } we do, our past y shine down upon us like a clear «ky i of stars, Such remembering will keep gratitude ever fresh in our hearts . the incense ever burning on the a:: Such a house of memory becomes a ; uge to which we may flee in trou! Wwmen sorrows gather | thickly, wi trials come, when the sun goes down a every star is quenched and thore s« rothing left to our hearts in ali the pr ent,. then th> memory of a past fail Does his mother call? No kite or ba} Or the prettiest game can stay Mis eager feet as he haste‘s to greet Whatever she means to say; And the teachers depend on this little triond At school in bis place at nine, With lessons learned and his good m« :s earned All ready to toe the line. I wonder if you have seen bim, too ‘This boy who is not too big For a morning kiss from his mother an Who isn‘t a bit of a prig; But gentle and strong, the whole da; As merry as boy can beâ€" A gentlieman, dears, in the coming yea And at present the boy for me, â€"â€"Marper‘s Young P a strong steady wind is blowing over the expanse and raising waves and rolling biï¬ows as though it were the very occar itself. Now a sudden gust sweeping beâ€" fore it a great wave, which, like the long rollers of the occan, surges steadily along the golden sea, until, at length, reaching its boundary, the Jong line of yielding corn bows down, and, as it were, makes obeisance to its mother earth. Or, when the blasts of the gale are more fitful and irregular, the surface is cleft and rift into swirling whiripools and tempâ€" estâ€"tossed agitated breakers and torn into throes of convulsive turmoil and commotion, And then suddenly the windâ€" storm ceases, and, unlike the sea, at once all is calm and unruffied. But we are told that at the end of the world there will be a Great Harvest, in which the reapers will be the angel«, who will separate the rightcous from the wicked. Happy they who, clothed in the rxr:muuu of Him who Himsel{ satâ€" i Divine Justice in their siead. wil be garnered into a Realm of untold joys and inconceivable felicities.â€" By a Canâ€" "Me hath put a new & He Himself is its th« my strength and song my salvation." dervalue HMis grace, 1 cognize His goodness, sweetest language of ecannmot aliways be. always rema‘n frozen breath of God, and cprinï¬l of joy and pr "I will magnify the | giving." becomes the | resolution. And this ers in an invitation t« of praise: "O come, le on ". ~_. > ol M in water were a and elittering fis i0ve, ind heart are tian rolic and in the knowledge of Hi that «ement of His own nat The Harvests of the Earth. Many and diverse are the varied harâ€" vests ever being gathered in on this earth, There is the harvest of the #ea, a harvest at times so bountiful that it is almost impracticable to garner it in as, for instance, the recent phenomenal capture of many million pilchards off the Cornish coast, when acres of nettedâ€" Bs presence w M ure‘s bounteous hand But of all the har the most ixnpormnt is nual gathering in of the "staff of life" for population of the glob and almost «tartling of a very large fio'l\s the sickle, viewed frow A building is often razed cround in order that aenother raised into the air. y FW T al th of rd e A Little Gentlomaa m an entire week in them out. Or the ha s when, one after a viathan of the occa Gratitude of Heart ing fish And this . vitation t« 0 come, le ys be, lme heart 6 in frozen and hard und lod, and as it soften y and praise begin to nify the Lord with th mes the joyful though And this «peak« out t« vitation to joiz in the wave, which, like the jong cean. surges steadily along _until, at length, reaching the Jong line of yielding iet us come« hanksgiving. nit spring in U cks its outlet every it L0 W exnenses that give U Mi light th There urvest 0 another t n t 1M W Mi@ to *the may be M )t Lae the ng 1t