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mm........°..umr I mfivâ€"imr 0.0.0‘ above, there was no time to lose; Uluade took her hand and bid her run with him, and turning up a sidepath from the main road, they reached a large shed, halfâ€"full of bark nnd_ faggots, where they were shelter- ed from the rain. though from the open front they could still see the tempest raging over the great space of sky which the slight downward slope of the woodland from the shed made visible. Jessie turned shud- dering from it. The rain was now rushing in torâ€" v-unts'strgight from thertorn clpuds Seeing the cauSe of_hcr distress, he drew her back among the bundles of bark, where, by displacing some and piling others,‘ he made a screened rcâ€" cess and arranged a sent for her. Her thick, irregular heartbeats beâ€" came quiet and rhythmic, and a dch licious calm stole upon her. He sat by her and took her hand; she did not Withdraw it, his touch was too healing. The storm crashed fur- iously on, the 'rain rushed with a hissing splash on the leaves all round the shed, the air was still like the heavy vapor of molten brass; yet Jessie was undisturbed, her deli- cate cheek was tinged like an infants and her breath came with the soft ease of a sleeping child's, she could not see the distracting dazzle of the ligh’tnings in the pleasant dusk among the bark-bundles wh-ich emitt- ed a. wholesome forest odor. She leant against the bark in happy sil- ence, it would be heaven to sit thus forever. Ime with a. closed carriage. ".Jessm, ne sum, \\'1Lu "this is a heavenâ€"sent opportunity. You go with old \Vinstonc as far as Wellow Cross, there you get out to pick flowers, what you will. Instead of following the cart, you turn up the Blackwell road, where you find We catch the evening boat and are in France the day after toâ€"morrow morning. “Ohl this is madness!” cried Jes- sie; "you must not say such things, indeed, indeed!" "I must," he replied, taking her hands and speaking earnestly; "you have given me the right. you must not trifle with me. Child, do you think you can take a man’s heart in vour hands and play with it, and throw it away when done With it? No. We belong to each other, Jessie: we love each other with heart and soul. No power can part us. Trust to me, wholly; no love is perfect without trust. Leave all these ethical and conventional subâ€" A.c_.~,._-:l_l- 4n They, were completely isolated, fenced round for the next hour at least by that blessed storm; there was plenty of time, without spoiling that perfect moment, “to look beâ€" fore and after, to pine for what is not." Besides, what could express her love and confidence more than that silent surrender of herself with the instant solace that his touch so eVidently gave. “My bird will nev- er escape me now,” he thought, “she has fluttered home for good and all.” He feared to break the blissful silence or mar the exquisite peace of the sweet face so near him. The tumult and tension of the last few days, with the climax of nervous agony wrought by the storm, had exhausted her; she only cared to be still new in the utter peace of Claude's presence. In the pauses of the thunder, they could hear each other breathe above the prolonged hiss of the rushing rain. The fra~ grant nest among the bark-bundles seemed like a sanctuary whither no unhallowed thing could penetrate. Rush on, blessed rain; flash 011.! fierce kind lightnings; crack, rumble, and roar. majestic, deep-voiced thun- der, tear the clouds and break up the heavens in your wild exultant strength; only let us be together. i i That Stern resolve never again toi see him, all the struggles and mental conflicts, the thousand reasons for‘ avoiding him, fell from Jessie like a] garment, and when she began to let? some cloudlet of thought drift across} the happy heaven of her peace, she asked herself, more moved by Claude's eloquent silence than she had ever been by his words, why. after all, they should be ported ? Could either have any happiness apart from the other? His very touch healed her. Surely God had brought them together and made them one. Excessive \veariness is a narcotic, conscience falls asleep, the I-‘urles of thought sink to rest under .wells of Orphean melody, and the Aired soul refuses to heave the stone --1‘ Sisyphus any more up the steep : 1.‘iS isrthe Tempter's hour. \ll th'e sophisms Claude Had utâ€" h-md and she had combnted about _xm.rrla. e, the falsity and cruelty of yonven ions, the purlty of a soul 'uion such' as theirs must be, came :voallng back, unchallenged, unresistâ€" .~:l, wlth tenfold force, in that beauâ€" ‘irul calm. To Claude they came 2150 wlth renewed force, the off- ;[)ring of his own brain returning no longer children to be moulded and controlled. but armed men to con- quer and subdue. o "You were ill with fright. poor fhild," he added; and then Jessie spoke of the nervous trouble thunder lav-d always caused her. '1 never before'was calm in a thun- ‘1 --â€"storm," she Said; "what a cowâ€" ‘ l I am!”‘she added, with a low, _. wquil laugh. terrific crack of thunder. as if storm, after growling sullvnly :uy in the distance, had returned in 4-” v-wed fury, drowned her laugh. No coward," he replied. “Oh! I '.i(‘, do you remember the Viper?" "Ah! I was frightened then," she rounrned; "I thought people died of ndder's bites." “You are calm now,” he said, at last, breaking the golden silence with’ reluctance, and she smiled in reply. "And you offered your life for Inigo. "And you gave me something hotter than life, all th'at makes life Sh. withdrew her hand. realityA A DYING PROMISE CHAPTER XXV. OR, THE MISSING WILL €31; broke in upon the blissful waking dream in which they seemed to be in some higher, nobler state. disemâ€" bodied spirits, anything but mere mortals bound by strict conventions and stern moral obligations. "No," she said, "I brought you 1xoub1e. But we part friends." Claude laughed, it seemed more like meeting than parting. "Whither are you flying?” he asked, gayly. “To my old school for a time toâ€" morrow. ’ "th0 goes with you?" "No one. I go alone by the car- ,“Jessie,” he said, with emphasis, "this is a heaven-sent opportunity. You go with old Winstone as far as Wellow Cross, there you get out to pick fiowex’s, what you will. Instead of following the cart, you turn up the Blackwell road, where 'you find xii or "I must," he replied, taking her hands and speaking earnestly; "you have given me the right. you must not trifle with me. Child, do you think you can take a man’s heart in your hands and play with it, and throw it away when done with it? No. We belong to each other, Jessie: we love each other with heart and soul. No power can part ns. Trust to me, wholly; no love is perfect without trust. Leave all these ethical and conventional subâ€" tleties to me. I am responsible to Heaven for both of us. Was not the Woman made for the man, and only the. man for God? ‘He for God onâ€" 1y, she for God in him?’ There is- no wrong in such a union as ours, only the purest, holiest happiness. Besides, the last barrier is broken doWn. That miserable terror of Mrs. Grundy cannot Come between us any more. You need never ,again be afraid of What people will think." "What do you mean?/" Jessie. / gasped “We have been seen? know what, they say of â€"in your-fin shortâ€"” . “I understandâ€"oh! understand so well," said Jessie, brokenly, her face buried in her hands, while her arms were supported on her knees. I was not born for things like thatâ€"I should shame you. Oh! Claude you must marry Miss Lons‘daleâ€"you must forget me." “Forget you!" As he spoke he bent over her bow- ed head and hidden face. She listen- ed and quivcred, and the old argu- : monts cameth with fresh and ever fresh force, while the thunder rolled fitfully in the distance and she did not heed it. “Gilli I know now too we}l and late, but I did not know till In-gleby told me.” “It was like the kind, Wise friend he is," she rejoined. "A reputation is eafsily lostâ€"it onâ€" ly means being seen with the wrong 1; In a nâ€"â€"â€"â€"- “wirifgielgmtglfi you,- did he?” he said, darkly; “it was like his con- foundedâ€"" “We cannot marry, you have given your father your word of honor,” she said, in smothered tones. Ail at once his meaning flashed upâ€" on her; she said nothing, for sheer anguish. W .. .A . ‘1) u ‘~-Z?\{7g_‘v;'ill go to Switzerland,” he added, “marriage laws are easy there." He explained that: such a marriage would probably not be valid in Eng- land, and was only intended as a concession to her scx‘uples. “It is not only my word of honor to marry no one but my cousin,” he added, “but it is Harwell Court and all that goes with it; these jolly 01:1 woods in which we have been so happy. 'And it is not for myselfâ€" ah! Jessie, as if ' I would not give up fifty Marwell Courts for youâ€"â€"-but think of my people. It would kill my fathel'â€"-â€"and as for the othersâ€", To be born and brought up in a' place like this, a place belonging to history, with all sorts of family traâ€" ditions and associationsâ€"such places don't belong to the man who actualâ€" ly owus‘ them, but to the Whole famâ€" ily, for whom 'he holds them in trust. One can't play the game of life for one’s own handâ€"especially if one is an eldest son; you see?" ' All Shl‘ heard or heeded was thel low musical voice, the unutterable! charm of the unseen presence. the immense need they had of each oth-‘ er; the supreme importance of his! happiness, the impossibility of either1 living apart from the other. What was anything in comparison with his happiness? what was honor,‘ pence of mind, heaven itself? ’l‘hercl was no heaven without him, to lose him was hell. She was his, sheé lived for him ulono, had no life? apart from him. What if her life: was laid waste and spoiled for blur}: As she thought thus she surldonly' lifted «her head and looked nt him. ‘ He saw his adeitngc and Followed it up 'hy eloquence glowing with suppressed passion; it setuned tu- Don’t you people in our and could not be’parted wiithput rilege Mary. mu..,. . Ho drew a weddingâ€"ring from his! pocket and would have placed it upon her trembling hand. Were they not in the temple of nature, he said, with the rushing rains as chorâ€" isters. the swift. lightnings as wit-i nesses, the deep organâ€"notes of thei thunder sounding their wedding sme phony? What moment could be fit,- ter for their espousels? She must promise now and forever. The word struck a deep chord in her breast; the supreme moment of her life had arrived. She listened to the wild stormâ€"music so solemnly invoked. the rain trickling from' the shed-roof into a pool formed by its own violence, with a sound that re» called the quiet music of the baffled water striving to climb the mill- wheel at home. 'Again she heard that the perpetually defeated water conquered by its persistence; she saw it grind corn for men's food and circle round the world in a. wondrous endless succession of transformation; she saw the white feet of winged anâ€" gels pass up the turning stair, us -the heavenly beings floated upward; she heard soft strains of spheral harmony mingled with the millâ€"music as in her childish dream, while in the actual far-oil roll of the passing thunder boomed the everlasting “Thou shalt not," against the grand simplicity of which all argument is mute. She rose and left, Lhe'dim recess, she would have gone but that he de- tained her with gentle force. Her slight figure was outlined on the storm-rent sky which had now no more tef‘rors for her. "Foolish child! What has frightenâ€" ed you?” he said, with' infinite tenâ€" derness; “dearest Jessie, think for a. moment, don’t be reckless. Don't ruin my happiness, don't »throw away my last hope. You are virtually bound to me, you have given me your love, you have broken with conventions, you are mine; in differ ent Ways we have compromised each other. The storm unnerves you, it makes’ you morbid. You know that ours is no common bond, that we are already one in heart and soulâ€"” “Claude, Claude, let me go!" "You cannot, you cannot go in this storm. Stay, 'Jes‘sie, stay, I will leave you, only stay in the shelâ€" ter;” but she was ofi' throflgh the tangle of wet undergrowth and into the main road; he followed, then stopped, knowing that, further pur- suit would only distress her. Just then the rain, which had died nearly away, changed to a- fierce crackle of hail-stones rebounding from branch to branch and denting the bare earth where they struck; the storm gathered its dying ener- gies for a final outburst. A blue sheet of light revealed towering cloud-masses above, colored the white hailâ€"storm for a moment, and showed him' the last glimpse of Jes- sie’s dress before she was engulfed in the double darkness of storm and forest; and by the time he removed 'his hand from his dazzled eyes a fierce wh-ite zig-zag darted from heaven to earth, accompanied by a peal of reverberatin-g thunder which seemed as if it would never end. And Jessrie was under trees in the very heart of the storm! He went back to the shed and leant against the bark stacks, in- tén-tly gazing in the direction which she had taken; he was pale and had a. solemn, resolute l'ook. “Whatever happens,” he said aloud, and as if calling unseen presences to witness, “Jessie must now be my lawful wife.” The long unequal duel was at an end, but the battle was not to the strong; When the storm had at last rolled away, and he had left his shelter, the figuré of a woman issued from among the piles of bark not far from the refuge he had made for Jessie, and leant upon the rough bar which ran from pillar to pillar in front of the shed. “You will not marry Jessie," she said, with'fierce emphasis; "and you will not 'save Marwell Court, if it can only be done by marrying me, my good cousin." The life-time of torture she had suffered in the last hour had exhaustâ€" ed her, there were dark shadows be- neath her deep lustrous eyes, and her lips were firme set. A "How can I hurt her?" she conâ€" tinued. “After all death is a feeble vengeance. Who Would have imagâ€" ined that this babyâ€"face could play her cards so skillfully? Where did she learn how to (001 men? Who gave her this insight, this intuitive know- ledge of their weak points? Afraid of the storm, indeed! I said she was no ordinary girl. I was right!" Two hundred thousand dollars was paid by Louis XVI. {or one. set. of buttons for a waistcoat. This mon- arch had a positive passion for but- tons, and in the year 1685 he spent a very huge umount on this hobby. Amongst the items of his expenditure two ar? worthy of note: August, 1685â€"Two diamond buttons, 67,- 866 frames £313,500); seventy-five diamond buttons, 586,703 francs, 9115.000). It .is estimated that during his lifetime he spent $5,000.â€" 000 on buttans alone, and that at a time wth the Empire of France was in a stale of bnnkruptcy. ‘ week FORTUNE SPENT IN BUTTONS Well shall ‘all he married to Dick nex! “1 though? yuu said you'd lust person in marry him!" 1 hope I shull be!" (To be Continued.) A correspondent, of Board's 'Dairyâ€" man asks the following questions, which are answered by Prof. E. H. Farrington. “How can the creamery arrive at. the cream patron's test if one day his cream may test, 30 per cent., anâ€" other 20 per cent., or 40 per cent? A composite sample is taken each day. Then this cream after being weighed, is put in the cream vat. The can must. be rinsed out. We don’t want that. water in the cream vat, so it is put. into the milk vat for the cream patron’s follow patâ€" ron to have as skim milk. ,5 , driver pours it, into his cream Weighing pail, then back to the farmer's can, repeating this operaâ€" tion at. least three times, he thenv hangs his weighing pail on tin“ jsmles. fills it will the cream. recorhs ‘the “night in the proper plate in .his book, and takes a sample by“ Emeans of a long, slim Lube which is! put down into the cream until it‘ touches the bottom of the weighingl «pail, standing in a vertical position. ‘ This tube Will be filled to the height of the cream in the pail and by closâ€" ‘ ing a cork in the top of the tube} the cream inside of it may be lifted ‘ out by taking out the sampling tube ‘and emptying it into a glass bottle {having the name or number of this patron thereon. THE AMOUNT OF CREAM taken as a. sample will depend on the length and diameter of the sampling tube, but if tubes of the same size are used for sampling cream in weighing pails of the same size, the samples will always be the same fractional part of the different lots‘ of cream and it will consequently make no difference whether one lot ‘ AL. "How can a correct teat be taken? Cream will rise and get, heavy on the surface. This cream quiestion is one of the most important ones we have to deal with at, butter fac- tories Mlunlv "v V....,, , of cream tests 10 per cent. and the next 30 per cent. of fat, the samples will fairly represent the cream from whidh they are taken. The samples taken at the farms by the driver are delivered by him to the buttermaker at the creamei‘y. Here they are poured (after inspection) into the composite sample jars at the factory, and a test of such a. composite sam- ple ought to give perfectly satisfac- tory results. You say that the can rinsings at the factory are not put in the cream. I do not see any objection to ad- ding them to the vat, if the water used is perfectly pure and there is inot an excessive amount of it. A little pure water in you cream ripâ€" ening vat, will not hurt the butter, neither will it interfere with an ac- :curate calculation of the dividends. vu-......v ___V , The weights and tests of the cream will show how much fat there is in the cream delivered to a factory in a given time (one month) and the creamery books should show what was received for the butter. Then, after subtracting the expenses of run- ning the factory from this butter money, the cash left is to be paid the patrons. the total weight of butter fat in the cream from which the butter was made, and the figure obtained will be the price per pound of butter fat that't'he factory is to pay its pat- rons for that month. Each patron's check is made out for the amount of money shown to be due him, by multiplying his weight of cream by the average of the tests of the comâ€" }posite samples, which will give the lpounc‘s of 'then by multiplying these pounds of lat by the price per pound, as obâ€" sained above, you will have the iamount of each check. Divide the money by' butter fat in the cream, 1 it is used." It is a fact that pas- teurizing covers a multitude of sins on more than one dairy farm in the country. Cleanliness in every detail is the most important point to be con- stantly impressed upon the dairyman and his help, in their daily duties in and around the stable, milk room, and everywhere milk is handled or stored. Cleanliness must be looked ‘after in all the details of milk manu- facture and in HANDLING MARKET MILK. Every dairyman knows that better butter can be. made In the private dairy, as a general rule, simply beâ€" cause one man, or one woman, usu- ally has charge or personal control over the whole process, from the feeding of the cows to the marketing ‘of the finished product. , Every patron of a creamery, no lmatter What his relation to the com- .pany may be, financially or official- ly. will always find it to'his inter- u.“- .0. .-, I Some sl‘leép coul-l be profitably lkept upon nearly all farms. They will unot only serve to keep the pasture {free from weeds, but they will also {prove excollvnt scavengers for clear- ;ing up stubble fields after harvest jund the odd corners on the farm. 1And moreover, they will yield a Jhandsome profit. on the investment {as Well as providing the most whole,h !smhe kind of fresh meat for thi- farm- }or's famin whenever it is desired. i A mistake oftcn made hy farmers A mistake often made who start in with a 511 shrep to act as scavenge anything that anyone choose to can‘ sheep that has little Won] on its back and will eat Weeds, and then treat them as meanly as thuir amn-urance seems to deserve. This rim-s not. pity. Good blood, inâ€" dividual merit, and good care are as SHEEP BENEFIT PASTURES TESTING CREAM. with a small flodk of scavengers is to buy anyone else may sheep that has little necessary for profitable sheep raising as with any other kind of stock. Buy a. few good, pure bred, regisâ€"j tered sheep of any one of half a doz- en of the standard breeds, treat them right, and they will do the hand-‘ some thing by you. They will earnI their keep during the summer by dc.L en of the standard breeds. treat them right, and they will do the. hand-' some thing by you. They will earn1 their keep during the summer by (it? stroying weeds, but they must have good care and feed during the. wins ter. When a. considerable number 0! sheep are retained and pure breds cannot be obtained at satisfactory prices, good grade, ewes Will do. but nothing but registered rams of high individual merit should ever be used. Such a flock of sheep of appropri- ate size will in a. few years extermin- ate the weeds and greatly improve the grass of any good native pasture. Top dressing with manure and sow- ing bluegrass upon the bare spots will also be found beneficial. If. how- ever. the native grasses are too bad- ly run out. it may pay better to break the sod and crop it for two or three years and then seed it down again. CARE OF THE MOWER. Before starting the machine see that it is all in order; knife sharp, sections tight, nuts tight. and pit- man moving smoothly without, strik- ing‘ anywhere. Use plenty of oil of the best quality, and see that the oil cups are not so badly clogged as to keep the hearing- dry. The driver should note carefully the sound of the machine from time to time. investigating any usually buzzing or rattling. The inner end of the knife is most likely to be dull because difficult to grind properly and the sections should be touched up with a file if necessary. It pays to have two knives so that a new one can be put in at; any time With- out Waiting for grinding, and it is Well to have a third knife, new, for ‘rOServe in doing extra difficult mow- iing. Old knives may be set aside for iuse in mowing weeds, sprouts, etc. ‘Thc track cleaner should be carefully ‘adjusted so that the hay previously cut will not interfere with the knife. there are some dairymen and hired ‘men who think that if the milk is 1going to be pasteurized anyway, when it, reaches the creamery or city dealer in market milk. it makes .no difference Whether any good care ‘is given the milk or not. 1 In Ehese ‘days of pasteurization l l The writer has actually seen one lman spit on his hands right over ‘the milk pail, While sitting on the milk stool, and just before sailing {in at milking time. He was chew- .ing tobacco and used the juice in- Istead of milk for lubricating his hands. His excuse was that "all this ’ere milk is pasteurized before it is used." It is a fact that pas- teurizing covers a multitude of sins on more than one dairy farm in the country. l CLEANLINESS IN THE DAIRY. In traveling over the country and visiting the dairy farms in the sum- mer time, nothing has impressed it- self so much on the writer's mind as the necessity of cleanliness, writes Mr. J. H. Brown. There are so many ways in which milk may be infected with bacterial germs that are detrimental to its welfare, that it keeps a dairyman hustling to get ahead of the germs. Cleanliness in every detail is the most important point to be con- stantly impressed upon the dairyman and his help, in their daily duties in Every dail‘yman knows that better butter can be made In the private dairy, as a general rule, simply be- cause one man, or one woman, usu- ally has charge or personal control over the whole process, from the feeding of the cows to the marketing of the finished product. Every patron of a creamery, no matter what his relation to the com- pany may be, financially or official- ly, will always find it to'his inter- est to see that his milk is furnished daily at the Creamery in the best possible condition. . .. ;,L_:I_ A disregard of any of the details which assist in furnishing pure, clean milk, every night and morning, al- Wuys aflects the quality of the whole of that day’s supply of milk at the factory, and the cream and butter taken therefrom is also likewise al- fected. The COWS should be kept just as clean as possible. There is hardly any necessity of keeping COWS with filthy flanks, belly, and beats. It costs barely nothing, except a few boards, a littIe time and energy, to fix the stalls or stanchions in any old cow stable. so that the cows cannot get soiled. Of course. some cows will soil themselves if they are obliged to almost break their necks to do it. In such a. case it might be better to give the butcher a. chance to do the "breaking" provid- ed be is willing to pay a. fair price Theatre owners in London are be- ing notified to make the necessary changes in their buildings called for. hv the theatre layâ€"law, which will be rigidly enforced. A woman's admiration for a. paint- ing usually runs to the frame. “Did he marry the girl who could paint things on crockery ware?" “No. he married one who could cook things to put into crockery ware."