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‘WW MMé '. BLIND BRIDLES FOR \VORK HORSES. The farmers of forty years; ago never thought of working horses on the farm or road without blinds or bridlc's. I was brought up under the impression that a spirited horse could not be worked without blinds. ‘writcs Mr. \V. \V. Stevens: But I haven't a blind bridle on the farm now and do not think I shall ever own ‘mc again. nut.“â€" The argument used by those who favor the use of blinds; is that when a horse cannot see his driver or the machine or vehicle behind him. he goes along much Steadier and without getting excited, and drives freer and shirks his dirty less. The other side is that when he is broken without: the blinds. he has more confidence in him- self and in his driver and is not so likely to scare at anything he sees be- hind him. or shy at things be half sees on either side. No horse with open bridle is continually finding ghosts, or shying at bicycles, baby cabs. road scrapers and the like. I l:an from experience that one can set a horse accustomed to railroad cabs. road scrapers and the like. I inflow from experience that one can get a horse accustomed to railroad trains, traction engines” or threshing machines much quicker by using open bridle-.8, or when he can ‘sec plainly instead of having two-thirds of. his vision obscured. It is true that a horse broken with blind bridle will act foolish when a change is made to an open one. The reason is simple; it is like breaking an animal in the first place. \Vhen hitched up, instead of hearing the rumbling or rattle of the wagon or machine behind him, he sees it folâ€"_ lowing closely after him. He will probably try to get away from it at first. It takes some time to get him used to his‘ new surroundings, but if he is carefully handled he soon gets down to work and is very much more tractable and level-headed. I knblw of but one kind of horse that works better with blinds than: without them, and that is the slug- gard or regular s‘hirk. \Vith the blinds on, at each cluck of the driver he does not know but he may get a lash of the whip. He surges along and keeps up his end. \Vith the opâ€" en bridle he soon learns to know when the whip is in the hands of the drivâ€"' er and governs himSelf accordingly. I like iOI have harnesses, as well as bridlcs, as free from unnecessary weight or encumbrance as possible, for it adds to the comfort of the aniâ€" mal. “’0 should give this matter a thought as we go along. I hear a good deal said against the over-check and it is all right as a rule! to discard it, but I would for the same reason let the blinds go the same way. At this season do not neglect the harness. Take out all the strings, wires, nails and chains that have been used in cases 01f emergency, and have all the weak or broken places properly meizded. Or if the harness is an old o'ne, fix it yourself with a few rivets. Use the No. 8 copper rivet and burs. They are the strongest and copper does not injure leather as does iron. Have the harness‘ repaired before put- ting a drop of oil on it. Take apart and put in a tub of warm water. Let it soak until the dirt starts easily. Use soap or soap powder. \Vash each piece 'until clean, then place in such a position So it will drain. A small stiff brush is a good thing with which to start thc dirt from the creases. By the time the last piece is‘ washed, the first parts are ready to be blackcd. \Vipc off all water. Take one strap at a time on a board and with a s'wab give both sides a going over, af- ter which wipe thoroughly. As soon as each piccS is: blacked, lay it in a clean place. A harness should be blacked and oil- ed before it has time. to get very dry, for the water opens the pores of the leather and the oil “dries in” much better. As soon as all the harness is blacked. put on the oil, going over each piece separately. Let the har- ness“ lie over night and the next day g1) over it again and work the straps through the hands, as‘ this makes them more pliable. Good neatsfoot oil is best. If th straps are very stiff. add a little kerosene. Two parts of oil and one of kerosene with a lit- tle lamp black make a good oil. But if the harness; has been blacked as di- rected. the lamp black is not needed. Ten cents’ worth of blacking will cover two harnesses. Two days is usually enough to get the oil well soaked in, then rub with old papers. If a finished job is desired, go over it with castile soap or Miller's dress- ing. The patent leather can be brightened up by using turpentine and a soft cloth, then rub dry with a clean one. ‘ REPAIRING AND OILING HARNESS A Michigan Farmer‘s Institute lec- turer, says? he had a successful catch oi clover where the seed was sown on snowhnnks‘ three feet deep. Seed sown that way settles into the snow and keeps always below the surface as the snow melts‘. If the snow goes 'with a heavy rainfall the seed will be washed into channels. but even then :not much harm is done. \Vlhere a rain follows directly after wheat or out harvest s‘eed can. he says, be sown an the stubble and burrowed in with spring tooth-barrow with almost On the Farm. SOWING CLOVER. ON SNOW certain succeSs. \Vhere clorver is sown in spring this writer never pastures after harvest. If necessary to weed killing he clips the clover .with a mowing machine early enough to let the clover grow up again five or six inches and still late enough to prevent weed seed ripening. One of his neighbors. he says, goes so far as to say that a man's wife should never be allowed to walk in fall over springâ€" sown clover. Evolution applied to dairying means development and progress. First there 'was the evolution of the cow. The primitive oo'w did not give much milk. Evolution, or development, has been brought about by environ- ment and change of food. The beef cqw is one of the earliest types. The dairy lpyc is of modern development. Feeding the co'w better food. makâ€" ing her more comfortable, and breed- ing for milk have resulted in a cow of the dairy typa, that can give in one year 10,003 lbs. milk containing 5 per cent. butter fat. There has also been an evolution of the quality of the products of the cow. Especially noticeable has been the evolution of cheese and butter making. Evolu- tion hag given us‘ the separators, churns. butter workers‘, and other imâ€" plements that have been brought to a state of perfection. Progressive dairying makes calls on man’s intelli- gence and skill and develop; the man. Ills Early Trnlnlng In Elocutlon null Ills German Accent. The following paragraphs are from the London Daily Chronicle. It may be of interest to add that Mr. Tarâ€" wer did not get rid; of the Prince‘s German accent, which is still pro- nounced. Even the Duke of York‘s accent is not quite free from. the same taint: "Everybody hearing the King’s! speeches during the past weeks has remarked anew that his voice carries remarkably well. The House of Lords is easily within the common range; but the King’s v‘oice is one of the few voices that can make them- selves heard at speaking pitch in ev- ery nook and cranny of the Albert Hall. This penetratingnossfi is not due merely to a sounding quality of voiceâ€"it is the result also of a great deal of training and labor. As a pupil in elocution the Prince was caught young. There is absolutely nothing clerical about his intonation. All the name, his first master in the art of voice prociuction was a clergyâ€" man. Mr. Tarver. “Manly stories were current in those daysâ€"stories which had the rare and un-Stalky quality of being creditable to both pupil and master. One morning. when his reverence said; ‘Go on reading,‘ his Royal Highness, with a frankness that has: continued to be his characteristic, replied: ‘I sh‘an't.’ Mr. Tarwer, bowing gravely, left the room; Next day the Prince said; ‘Mr. Tarver, I was very rude to you yesterday,permit me to apologize.’ On another occasion the Queen came with inquiries about the pupil’s pro- gress. 'VVell, I regret to say that I can’t get rid of the Prince’s German accent; and when he is older, and has to speak in public, the people willznot be pleased with it.‘ The Queen ruled that henceforth the future King should show his progress in pure Eng- lish by a daily reading before her. ’The country now benefits in the re- sult." Cause ofso Much Sickness In the Farmer‘s Family. ‘A physician who had resided in a small town for nearly a quarter of a century, and “had accumulated a competence, was in a reminiscent frame one day, and said to a friend: " It may seem strange to you, but threeâ€"fourths of my practice is am- ong the farmersl living within a radius of ten miles! around this town. I have travelled every road and lane in this neighbourhood hundreds of timesmnd know every foot of them. Farmers ought to be the healthiest people alive but there is somebody sick in their families nearly all the time. They habitually eat. too much, their sysâ€" tems become clogged and instead of starving themselves well they send ‘for the doctor." " Why don’L you tell them so ed his friend. "I used to do so but it offended them and they dismissed me and sent for other doetms. So in many cases I have given them mil-:1 medicines, and told them the;v must eat little or nothâ€" ing for two or three days, in order to give the medicines a chance to take effect. Towu people overeat, too, mind you. but for reasons easily explained, they don't eat as much or as hearty food as the farmer ‘and his family do. By the way, Chester," he said, turn- ing to his office assistant, who had just come in, "didn’t I'nclc Hunk Roughrider, just south of town, kill his hogs two or three days ago ?” “Yes, sir," replied Chester. "I'll have a cail to attend a case of malaria or something of the sort in that family. from eating too much sausage and pigs‘ feet, inside. of twenâ€" tyâ€"feur hours," predicud the phyFL- KING‘S VOICE CARRIES WELL. And even :2 he sque “Uncle H: Rcughrider drove up to the off tied his horses to the hitchingâ€"p and hurriedly came. in. EVOLUTION OF DAIRYING. ONE DOCTOR’S OPINION. smnethmg 01 the st from eating too mu gs’ feet, inside of twe ‘ predic‘u'd the phy gâ€"pos JUST LORD RUBERTS' WAY A BOER WAR EPISODE THAT HELPS T0 EXPLAIN HIS POPULARITY. The l’I-lvmr Soldier. “'nsxul by Fever In 0 llmplml “lm Luugml for :1 Hum of lhc Held Marshalâ€"HM" Ilnbrrn l-‘unnd ’l'lmo In \‘lsll [Inn and Spfllli a (hm-1- lng Word. Private Miller, No. 8203, lay in the end cot. The big school room had been turned into a. hospital and the blackâ€" boards stretched around the walls like a. band of premature mourning. Once he had' been a very big man but now, his hairy arms that My list- lessly outside the cover were almost the same size from wrist to shoul- der and every bone in ‘his skull Show- ed plainly through the skin. His hair had been clipped and so had his beard jaws but a. thick stubble hid his‘ big gaunt The doctor said that he was prob- ably going to recover but he did not look it. Enteric fever had made such a wreck of him that death seemed to be written in his deep sunken eyes and sound in the weak. hollow tones of his voice. He was used to hospital life, having been down to \Vynberg twice in the first six months of the war, with Mauser holes in rhim. Then he 'got the fiever at Natal Spruit, and this was framework of the strongest man in the regiment ! {[t was very guiet in the bare little room. Occasionally a man muttered, but as a. rule, they all lay there with all that was left to 100k atâ€"the mere their eyelids closed, or else looking blandly up at the ceiling, in a slow breathing, halfâ€"waking sleep. (Am armley nursing sister came into the room‘ quietly. Some of the men followed her with their eyes. She went to the little table near the win- dow and put a little bunch of flowers in a glass. Shit! wasn't very pretty; she was» tall and angular, and had prominent front teeth that were con- tinually sh‘olwing, but her very presâ€" ence seemed to brighten the room. The little cap, with its long white stream- ers, appeared to soften. the strongly marked face. After she had arranged the flowers she turned to the end cot and straightened the pillow with a know- ing pull here and a soft pat there. She was very proud of him, was Sister Better, for twice they had put the Little screen around his bed, behind which men are expected to die more privately, as it were, and make their exit as gracefully as they can alone and uninterrupted. But Sister Potter had determined to pull him through. if possible. Not that she was not determined to pull every one through who came into her hands, but this man especially, for the orderlies said that the end cot would soon be vacant. ‘And there were plenty cn'o'ugh' waiting out in the tents of No. 5 field hospital to fill it a score of times. The volunteer surgeon who had charge of the ward declared that ‘Sis- ter Potter had saved Private Miller by sheer force of will. Every one knew she had a will] of her own, and her word was law. But whatever it was, the screen. had been withdrawn and the cloud of death had passed by the end cot to settle suddenly and unâ€" expectedly on; a light case near the doorway. The sister (had not Said anything to her patient as she arranged his pilâ€" ldw. She had simply smiled at him, more with her eyes than her lips, which were open. continually. She felt his [brow with her long, cold fin- gets. Number 3,203 looked up at her. He did not smiLe in return, but started to say something, and after one or two efforts came out with it weakly: "Is ta little mom. eqm'm’ ta see me?" he asked. The nurse did not reply at first. It was the same thing he had said over and over again in ‘his delirium: \Vhen was the little man coming? why wouldn’t they let him in 'Z He was just outside there asking for Private Mil- ler. Over and over again, in all sorts of ways it had been repeated; as a question, a complaint, or a request. Now here he was, without a degree of fever, and yet with the same words on his lips. "0h, he’s coming soon, but I sup- pose he is very busy now," said the nurse quietly. am] as she spoke it was evident wherein lay her power and charm. It was her voice, so flow and sweet and comforting. Many apoor fellow had listened to it, and never known why he felt better. Many had found the secret, and questioned her for the more sake of the sound of her reply. Private Miller only nod- ded hishead slowly two or three thes as if 11-; agreed and was consoled. In the evening. as is customary with the fever. his temperature rose, and when the nurse came to give him his little bowl of arrowroot. he was a little flighty and would not touch it. " He waud na coom,” he muttered, "He's hard pressed wi’ to. big fight that’s comin’ on. I want ta. deeâ€"he waud na coom.” " No, he couldn’t come to-day,” said Sister Potter, "but perhaps to-mor- riréonvnlcsccnts, in , their light blue hospital suits with be broad, white trimmings, stood up and salut- Then she went out and told the ,lunteer surgeon; and that night he Red with a member of the headquarâ€" z‘s staff. low said " Who 2" . "The little man. ’You know you wanted to see him." “ God guide us, I’m not fit to be seen! Caud na I got a shave first, eh? lA'am sa'Lr unkcpt.” He put his weak fingers to his rough hairy chin. "I’m, disreeputablc. But you’re na meanin‘ it,” he added, weak- ly. "He wand na take, the trouble to see the like 0’ me." In reply the nurse gave a. little soothing caress to 'his wasted, bony hand. Dmvn the corridor came four or five khakiâ€"clad figures. 'At the head walked the volunteer surgeon and be- side him, with a strong. quick step. walked :1 short, well-knit figure. clad m, an immaculately neat uniform, held in by a broad belt and cross straps. Above it rose a kindly, strong face, with a gentle, almost merry expression in the eye. 'A firm mouth- wlth strong downward lines, yet sympathetic as a woman’s. a brow furro‘wed by care and work and :1 voice that, I'Lke the nurse's, made one‘a heart warm to- him, completed the man. It was the "littlE mon," “Bobs, the belovod!” The occupant of the end bed caught sight of him just alsl he entered. He struggled to rise, but Sister Potter’s hand restrained him. He saluted none the less, with a. swift movement at first, and then a drop to the coun- terpame, as hf the effort had been too much for him. His face flushed and his breath heaved. For an. instant the sister looked at him nervously. The other men in the room, who were all convalescents, rose to a sitting posture. "W011, Miller," he said, "I’ve come to see you. They tell me you're doing famously, and soon will be out there sitting in the sun." The Field Marshal took them all in with a sweeping, kindly recognition, and walked to the end cot quickly. He sat down on- the edge and. took the big, 'red, hairy. paw in. his. The man could not reply. His eyes shifted from. the Field Marshal's face to the hand that was holding his own. ano 01‘ three times his lips: moved, but he could not speak. But the lit- tle man. was talking again. “And now I’m going to tell you) what we‘re going to do with you,” he went on. “As soon as you're strong enough, we‘re going to send you to England, to home and then when you come back you're going to get your stripes, for your Captain has spoken very well of you. You were wounded at Belmont, I understand. and at Koodesberg, weren’t you?” But Private 8,203 could not even move his head in reply. He just lookâ€" ed and looked; so the Field Marshal gave ‘him :1 slight farewell hand grasp, then. :1 friendly nod, and with a word that included all the others and an answer to their salute, he took his staff and his presence from the room. ‘ 1A nun who was making his way into a crowded omnibus with considerably (more haste than was necessary trod mugth upon the toes of a woman ipassenger. \ I ‘ i \ ' 1 [She Iu‘ttcre‘d an exclamation of pain, and“ he stopped long enough to say: I beg a thousand pardons, ma’am. The origgimxl offense was bad enough, she mp1 e1, \Vi'thl: asking me u; insue 1 thousand pardond for it. I will- grant you just _one pardon, sir. ken; the little mkm; he took my hand, A’am to get well soon! He took ma hand." As for Private. Miner, he at the sister, smiled a wan fainted dead away. But came to himself, the first said were these: AK} GR‘AVATING THE OFFENSE. « The. absurdity of manyf of the com- mon forms of speech comes upon us at timzs somethmg like a shock. "LA‘ml {vith that he lay there, look- ing at the almm‘st useless member, as ilf it were a valuable curiosity. There was '3. general Sitter as lg, sat Sal; down: and he did not stpp on aqy- body’s toes when hq went out. Mrs. Tetherâ€"Em)! enough. I dis- charge her every marrying, and she re- fused to leave. 4 \VILL HLâ€"XJVEl HER \VAY. Mrs. Oneâ€"HOW do you manage to keep your cook 50 long 'I . NOT A; BARGAIN. MrfPerk'ns, I rather d‘slike to take your last daughter away from you.” Oh, that’s all right; she is the last one, but I don't intend to let hen go one cent cheaper than the others. \Vbat‘ salary do yow get ? He‘ll be in in a few minutes," FIRST SPRING CAMPAIGN. Mrs. Modusâ€"VVcll, George, you promised me a. new bonnet. Georgeâ€"I? Promised you a new bonnet? Great Scot! “When? Mrs .Modusâ€"Beforc you marr’ed me you swore that never should disgrace rest upon my “head through you; and what do you call this shabby thing that’s on my head now? looked up' smile and when‘ he I words he} 'IHE MOST EXPENSIVE TOMBS IN GREAT BRITAIN. tortunes Sptnt In l’rcparlng Lust Realms: Places of Men Willi Lots of Mean:â€" llcaullrlll Sepulchres. Since the far off time when the‘ rich East Indian prince sacrificed hundreds of human lives and almost impoverished an empire to build the ’l‘aj Mahal. at Agra, the world's 005.1:- liost and most artistic tomb, as the lust resting- place for the ashes of his beloved princess and consort. the wealthy and the potentntcs of earth have shown almost as much concern about the style and quality of the graves they are to occupy after death as they have in erecting palatial and luxurious homes for their enjoyment [during life. In England 'perhaps less money is spent on costly to-mlbs than in many other countriesâ€"notably the United States, France and Italy; but for all that there may be seen spme very beautiful and coalty scpulc-hres with- out searching beyond the Metropoli- tan cemeteries, says the London Daily Mail. In a chat with Mr. “food, of the Art Memorial Company. West Nor- woodâ€"-â€"possibly the largest firm: of designers} sculptors and umdellers in the United Kingdpm: â€"- the writer learnt that \Vost Norwood Cemetery probably contains the most expensive tombs of any in Great Britain. . This is. doubtless largely owing to the fact that it contains the Anglo- Greek bfurying ground, the Greeks as a Whole being particularly lavish in their erection of costly mausoleums. The Ralli family. nearly thirty‘ years ago, erected a temple in the Doric style‘ at a cost of about £20,- UME RIGH MEN'S TUMBS, years Domic 000. The late Mr. Knowles was the architect. and he so contrived mat- ters that the cemltre olf the building might be used as} a mortuary chapel by the entire Greek community. the wing buildings only being reserved as catacombs for members of the Ralli family. The interior of the building is rich- ]y decorated, and the figures which adorn the ped'un/ent represent the Re- surrection. VARIOUS BIBLICAL SUBJECTS t are shown in the metopesl of the frieze. | y Another very costly tomb in \Ves‘t Norwood Cemetery is that of the Va.- gliano family. This was erected in 1898. by the present head of the fam- ily, to the memory of his father and mother, and prospectively for him- self. ' v It was dozigmed by Lir. \Vood after the Temple of the \Viuds, at Athens, and it cos": over £2,000. Built of white Carrura marble, it contains a. stainedâ€"glass window of the Res-ur- rection and the vault is capable of accommodating a dozen coffins. The tomb of John Ralli, also at \Vest Ncfixood. which cost in the neighborhéod of £12,000, was de- signed by Edward Barry. son of the famous architect. from whosje drawings the Houses of Parliament were built. It is a Doric building with :1 mar- ble dome. and the pediments are beau- tifully sculptured. Inside there are two marble angels standing over the altar, and the entire interior is gorge- ously decorated, with coloured mar- bles. In 1882 John Balii. a prominent member of the Greek community, erected a magnificent tomib at West Norwood, to the memory of his father, Xenophon Elias Balli. It cost £1,"75('| and Mr. \Vood modelled it on a pure- ly Greek Ionic design. after the pat- tern of the Nike Apteros, \Vingiess Victory. on the corner of the Athen- ian Acropolis. The building contains a. stained- glass window and two copies of the "Era Angelica,” from Florence; It also shelters the heart of one of the family who died and was buried abroad. The Zarifi tomb was erected by Mr, “bad about five years ago at acost of £1,000. It is one of the finest vaults ever built in England, and is led down to by two flights of mar- ble step}. .. ..... y Another very beautiful tomb is that built for his family and himself by Mr. Sec‘hiari. It consists of a Greek canopy of white marble cover- ing an ornamental cross. which, in turn, lies on a marble baSement. A comparatively small but very effective gravestone is that erected for himself. by Mr. Rodocanichi. It was finished early this year and is pf Florentine design. It must not be forgotten that to all the approximate figures of cost given above avery considerable sum: ’ < > i - A- 7.” 1 ‘ . . _ A L..-“ n ‘3‘; London paper announces that the 35110;) of L‘vexptol has rcquested girls who are candidates for confirmation not to wear hairpins, as they prick his hands in the act of laying them on. \Vhen Daotor Creighton, the late Bishop of London, was asked some ago how be solved a similar problem, he replied; I confirm all the boys personally, and transfer those young mnuplneg‘ to my suffragan. who is aw old varsit, oarsman, with the castâ€"iron hands 0: a blacksmith. .0 :nay be added 031' j‘groumd purchase," which is invariably heavy. HARD-HANDED Built of contains a the Resur- capable of