Richmond Hill Public Library News Index

The Liberal, 13 Oct 1904, p. 7

The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

.Was hers alone, it could not WOWWWOOMW A NEW PkllMlSE OR, THE MISSING CHAPTER XXXVII. One the clear and sunny afternoon following , the great thunderstorm, Jessie, _palpitating with fear and shame, passion and despair, found herself flying past unfamiliar fields, strange towns and villages steeped in golden light, in the afternoon ex- press to Londonâ€"that city of marvel and splendor, whither gravitate the greatest thinkers and workers, whose streets are paved with gold and canopiod with fame; Jessie. who had never travelled express before, or been twenty miles from the native steeple, and whose fresh heart had once thrilled at the very name of London. But she cere'd little toâ€"day whither she was flying, as long as it was away from the magnetism that must soon overpower both reason and Pl‘inCiple. and from the disgrace that smirched her fair name. From both of these she fled, with unreflecting fear, seeking only to hide herself, and instinctively choosing the vast chaos of London as the most secure place of concealment. She thought it the best field for the exercise of the art by which in her simplicity she in- tended to live; but the main pur~ pose in her choice of destination was concealment. Every pant of the enâ€" gine tore some life out of her heart, every throb robbed her of hope and trength, since every turn of those rushing wheels bore her farther and farther from the one being to whom all her nature tended with irresisti- ble force. But this flight was her only chance of salvation, as she knew by every pang tearing her weak heart. Had she remained, there was now nothing to save her but the strength of that weary, passion- strained young heart, to which she dared not trust. For Jessie seriously believed her- self to be ruined in the sight of the world; shesupposed herseff to have sinned conventionally, and thus to have incurred indelible disgrace. Had not Claude said 50? Yet was her frail .young spirit strong enough to resolve not to sin in reality, and thus incur disgrace in the sight of Heaven and of her own accusin soul, those severest, most awful of judges. Thus she rushed blindly inâ€" to exile from all that could ever make life sweet. I fate. 3‘ ed to have been flying on for But though she had now crossed her RubiCOn and burned her boats, she was still perpetually "urged by an inward prompter to return, to give up honor and duty, soul and body. to him who was dearer than all besides, whose words were celesâ€" tial symphonies, whose glance was heaven, to renounce all and cling onâ€" ly to that sheltering embrace; even now she had but to write one word and be happy, beloved, sheltered for life. And he was wanting her! Poor deserted Claude! How base to leave him! How could anything here- or hereafter weigh against his happiness? What. would she not do. for him? Puritylâ€"what was that| but another name for selfishness? Hers, yes! but, his? no selfishness there; that thought was ever victor- ious when her heart was most cru- elly wrung. Dngraced in the eyes of men! How that pain ate into her heart as she sped through the golden afternoon, with ever fibre still quiv- ering freshly with the passion of yesterday’s meeting; but the disgrace touch h‘im; she was glad~not blaming him â€"'never considering that he was the author of it. Disgraced! yes, but innocent. Claude’s voice, his beauti- ful, lovethrille‘d voice, still rang in her ears, still swayed the tumult within her, the magic of his presence Still enfolded her, his spirit blended with hers as she was borne past the flying stubbleâ€"fields, the glowing woodlands, the sunny downs. She saw the rushing champain steeped in the tender lustre of the autumnal day, rodâ€"roofed villages. fading moor- lands, soft green pastures, reddening fern and browning heather, distant hills, mist-softened, all tempered by amethystino shadows, with an un- secing eye; her mental vision was filled with Claude's face traced on the dark background of the storm, roaring through the drenched woods. l Claude's face, always beautiful, and how eloquent with passion. His words kept echoing in her earsâ€"the philosophic theories, the reproaches, the tenderness, the anger, the serâ€" row, the pleading! Yet above all. like the voice of God above the tu- mult of the storm, boomed in deep rolling thunders, “Thou shalt not," silencing all else. How terrible was this new and, untried OCean of feeling, this strong clinging of soul to soul, this invin~ cible necessity of annihilating self and merging 0110's being in that oileagcr business men, fine ladies another. She that womanhood was to through this fiery baptism, she; would fiiin have remained a child.' How strange to think of hardâ€"faced,j commonâ€"place matrons She knew haw! ing drunk of this intoxicating cup. had never thoughti be entered beating heart for the sound of a young footstep, in the twilight? But Mrs. Plummer, on being gently sounded on this point, gave out no tender vibrations in response, and Jessie, seeking sympathy, turned to Sarah on that last night, when her faithful old friend sat by her bedside to hear her company after the storm. "Yours was a, long engagement, Sarah?" she said, with a, tentative “vistfulncss. “Matter plied. _ y “All that time!” sighed Jessxes o' vifteen year,’ she re- watchcd the passing tide, of pnssen gers, timidly Seeking some friendly and less selfâ€"centred face to as'». no- vice. Presently she. selected a. pros- porous, jovial-faced fellow carrying a bag, hilt on addressing him, was met by a, look that made her shrink back trembling. She next tried a kind, comfortablelooking matron all bags and shawls, who measured her all over with a look of cold, hard disapproval, and passed on by the side of her husband, who regarded her for a moment with blank indifâ€" ferenCc. A sense of her own llelpless’ isolation and of the wide World’s stony cruelty, weighed upon her unâ€" der those chilling looks and filled her with despair. Yet some paces further off among the crowd were two men, each of whom was thinking of her, and each of whom would have given his life to save her from her impending fate. "Kch, miss?" asked a, pol‘tor, look"- ing with wonder at her fair, troubled face, when at last she ventured to follow the crowd and claim her box. "Iâ€"I don't know," she, faltered, “I am a stranger. I don't know where to go. Would you be so kind as to tell me of a, suitable placeâ€"quiet and respOCtableâ€"to go to for the night?" pure young voice; “but then .VOlf knew that he cared for you, Sarah?’ “Bless you! Wold chap dedn't care a straa,” she returned, scornfully. “Then why were you engaged?" "Well! there. Ilreckon a thought a med sowell hae me as ar a ooman. I was handy a Zundays." "But didn’t you care?" “Nar a mossel," she replied, with cheerful indifference. “Then why did you marry Abra.- ham?” she asked, in tones not with- out rebuke. “Wanted to hide long wi you. That why I hitched on to en, I reckon." “Sarah, dear Sarah! ‘ How good you have always been to me!" Jessie cried, embracing her; “dear old Sar- ah, I would never leave you if I could possibly help it, indeed I would not.” To which Sarah replied, with a push'and a pleaSed growl of “Goo on wi ye," but which she never forgot. Travelling, like the celebrated bishâ€" op, thirdâ€"class because there was no fourth, Jessie did not see two men travelling by first, the sight of eith er of whom might have altered her So she sped on to her doom, sitting all alone in the bare, un- cushioned compartment, boarded off like a cattle stall from the other diâ€" visions, by a, partition too high for sight but not for sound. She could hear two men quarrelling in foul language, a, child wailing, a woman bushing it, and quite near her seat, the clink of hand-cuffs on a prisoner travelling to the county jail in charge of two policemen. She seem- ages deep, deep into the wide and pitiless world. Dver dark stretches of fadâ€" ing heather they rushed in the sunâ€" set, the crimson lustre of which was mirrored in black turns; then the day faded, and the country became tame and monotonous; here were market- gardens robbed of their summer spoil, here squalid streetsâ€"was this Lon- don? No. They thundered on with shrieking whistle and increasing speed, now a crash and darkness close to her face followed by contin- uous rattling and cracking as if all was over, till daylight reappeared and she saw the long serpent of a. passing train winding away behind them in the dusk. Then a bewilder- ing network of iron’ roads, across which many trains careered with‘ mad speed toward each other. What subtle brain arranged their course’ through that intricate maze? , But what is this, looming oim, solemn, and majestic in the gray and misty sky, a sky so strage to Jessie. with its thick veil, through which golden lustre seems ever on the point to stream, a sky full of romance and Poetic suggestion? Slender, unsubc stantial, and mist-like as are those towers piercing the mist, she knows them well. This is London at last; there are the houses of Parliament[ everywhere is the sparkle 'of innum erable lights in the faint twilight. The magic city, the great heart of the nation's life, with its churches, palaces, and theatres, its storied buildings and holy places, its miles of stone-hearted streets, its millions ofdiving, rejoicing, suffering human beingsi lay before her at last; but she was too crushed and troubled to heed what would otherwise have filled her With Vivid interest. The train thun- dered into the grim, great, dirty CChOing‘ Station. and the stimulating sense of vastness which for a momâ€" ent touched her at the first sight of the greatest city on earth, faded L‘in that dreary place, the smoke and grime of which suggested the sunless Prisons of hell, and which was large without grandeur, and gloomy with- out majesty. The noises were irritaw ting, the strange cries confused her, the hustle and hurry bewildered. Div/y with the unaccustomed mo- tion and smell of smoke and oil, tirâ€" ed and over-wrought, she stood on the pavement, jostled by hurrying passengers and their luggage, nalfâ€", frightened by the hoarse shouts of. “Now miss," and "By'r leave there": of porters cluttering past her with' laden trucksâ€"not knowing what to do. Parents anxiously gathering their broods about them, grave but; with ‘ trains of maids and ; footmcn, middle-class ladies with numerous parcels, wellâ€"to-do gentle- men followed by serviceable ‘porters, all sorts of people. hurried by, claimâ€"‘ l their ing luggage, Calling cabs, meeting, and parting from friends. Jostled1 He leoked at her with many shades of expression,‘ all merging in amaze- ment. , “What? Don't you know where yer friends live?" he asked, at last. "1â€"1 have no friends in London," she replied, guiltify. “Something wrong here," he said; “you're from the country, never been in town before, 1"“ Wager." "No; I am quite, alone in the World and I should be so much obâ€" liged if you would tell me where to ask for a respectable lodging for the night," she replied, earnestly and with pleading eyes; “I am come to town to find work. I have not much money." He looked at her long in silence, then shouldcring her light box and bidding her follow him, he went to a thirdâ€"class waitingâ€"room, where he stopped and 'told her to wait half an hour. ' He returned punctually at the apâ€" pointed time and led her up many stairs and across several platforms, a long way, till they reached a, firstâ€" class waitingâ€"room, where he stopped and told her that the woman who was in attendance was respectable and clean, and would be glad to let her have a room in her house for a. moderate sum, providing she kept herself honest and respectable. Then he took her to a dingy, thinâ€" faced woman, who was making herâ€" self some tea with a furitive air and eating thick bread and butter steal- thily. “This is the young lady, Mrs. Bar- ker,” he said. “I must hook it nioW. The kel) and box '11 be all right." "It isn't much of a ’ouse for the likes of you, miss," said the woman, anxiously, "but it‘s clean and 1'0- spectable. There's only me and my daughter, who does dressmakin' for a firm. Eivclshillings a week paid in advance is my terms, and a week's notice when leavm’. We takes in single men and does for them generâ€" ally, but no objections to a respecta- ble young woman as pays regular.” Jessie thoUght herself fortunate. Her whole *capitul consisted of thir- teen Vp_0unds,fiv_e shillings and six- pence; it had __bc0n acquired by sell~ ’ing two or three pictures at home, and would no doubt speedily be doubled --an‘cl trebled by the same means in.London: in the meantime it behoved her to be careful. She had to wait until Mrs. Barker left for the night, when the cab and box were brought by the friendly porter, whom she cordially thanked and bid good- night, oflering her hand instead of money. The porter, though a family man and poor, preferred the hand and looked after the departing cab with interest: .“A screw loose someâ€" where," lie said to himself; “I’ll keep a good lo‘olbout on the advertiseâ€" ments for a. week or so." So Jessie awoke next morning in a dingy, stuffy room in a back street of Westminster, to the beautiful muâ€" sic of the clock chimes, feeling as if all her previous life lay a century behind her and she had been trans- ported to another age. (To be Continued.) .â€"_+.__._._ MRS. NIPPY’S JOKES, “I heard a good joke to-day," said Mrs Nippy. “Spring if." said her husband, “When is a door not a door?" “I give up." "A door is not a door," said she, “when it, is open.” “You mean when it is ajar, don't you?” “Isn't that what I said?" "No. my dear." “Well. that's what I meant, anyâ€" way. Hei'e's another. Why is a sheet of letter paper like a slow dog?" “Don‘t know. Why?" “llecause a sheet of paper is on inkâ€"lined plane. and an ink-lined plant- is a slow puppy, and it slow puppy is a slow dog." “I don't si-e it."- "It's just as plain as tho nose on Vour face. The paper is ruled, don't you see?" "YUS." “And l“lli'(l paper is an inkâ€"lined plane. isn't it?" “(‘el‘ininlv.” “And isn't a slow puppy a slow dog." "Certainly." "Thi-n laugh you old stupid," “I c;m't," said Mr. Nippy, “’5 Even Mrs. Plummer in this light ac-ihither and thither by the crowd, sno‘lno laughing matter." quired an aureole of furâ€"oil romance,1 strangely suited with her homely acâ€"i tivities and russet preoccupniion., had not she. foo, once waited with a drew aside beneath the dull yellow? gasliglit. and waited, alone at nights fall. without one friend in all th ’ millions of that great city. She Chemist (to poor mu<t take this lliO‘liL‘HlC‘ thinge a day after meals." t i mi a; woman )â€"“ You ' I". i h... PLANTING AN ORCHARD. The first thing‘is selecting a {$001 ,locntiou I would recommend ..igli well drained says Mr. ‘ 1 think old ground free 1ironi'i‘oicst roots is preferable for alllunflui: apple trees. The decaying roofs have a tendency to induce (lisâ€" enses of the roots of the trees and in :1 short time the tree dies. The land should be in a high state of cultivation capable of producing any good crop. The ground should be broken as deep as possible; subsoil- ing would be better, enabling the roots to penetrate deep in the ground, giving the tree a firmer hold 5grouni’ls‘ and A. .l. llcsn‘. and doubtless longer life. The first thing is selecting the trees. Doubtless we have all at some time in life had the experience that inferior articles are dear at any price. I know of nothing to which that is; more applicable than the apâ€" plo tree. I prefer yearling trees, both apple and peach. The apple is then a straight switch free from limbs and can be easily taken up without muti- lating the roots. See. that your trees are healthy, free from,disease and straight bodied. A crooked tree is an eyesore to start with and oftâ€" times if planted the bark is liable to blister at the crook, should the crook he to the southwest from the summer's sun. The, wound gradually spreads until the tree dies. As to the time of planting, circumstances should largely control us. We usually have more time in the fall for plant- ing and the ground is in better con- dition. SPRING AND FALL PLANTING. Springr planting is all right under favorable circumstances, but we often have the extremes either too wet or dry. Should the season be wet, planting must be delayed until the trees have startedfoliage and fibrous roots, thus giving them a setback if not killing them. On the other hand, shonld the season be dry, the ground is porous, dries out rapidly and the tree dies from lack of mois- ture. All things considered I would re.- commend full planting. It is true they must be protected from the rab- bits. The easiest and cheapest pro- tCCtion I know of is a thin, box lath coiled around the tree. Trees should be planted about 2 inches deeper than they grew in the nursery. All mutilated roots should be cut oil smooth so as to heal as quickly as possible. The hole should be dug large enough in setting the tree so as to place the roots in their naturâ€" al position, allowing them to extend in all directions so as to brace the tree. As to the distance trees should be planted, that will depend upon the Varieties of apples. Don Davis, Wineâ€" sap. Rome Beauty; late varieties of apples should not be planted less than 30 feet apart. Earlier varieties may be planted closer. Always set the tree leaning a little to the southwest. as the prevailing winds come from that direction in the summer and will have a tendency to lean the tree if planted straight. When the or- chard is planted with yearling apple trees, as Iliavo previously mention- ed, I would decide on the hieght of heading the trees. Uniformity should be one of our aims when it can be easily done in shaping the tree. Take a measure and'cut trees back to same hight, care being taken to cut near a bud so wound will‘heal readily. Should it be cut some distance from the ; bud, the part above the bud perishes ’and is liable to. injure the tree. When‘ the buds have started, go over your trees carefully and rub off surplus sprouts with the thumb. Care should be taken to so start limbs as to have the tree well balanced. I prcL fer a number of limbs coming out from trunk. of tree to a fork; it makes a, stronger tree AND BETTE ‘ BALANCED. is necessary to cut limbs for awhile so as to have stocky, stout. limbs. Should limbs have a tendency to run. down, cut so as to have the bud above. That will elevate them, vice YCl‘Sfl-i I prefer low heading for many reas- ons. 'l‘ho limbs are a protection to the tree from the, summers sun and the winter's cold, rendering it less liable to be Shaken by the winds and making the gathering of fruit much “a stitch back short, the It easier. The old proverb in time saves nine" is applicable tor pruning and caring 101‘ trees. (.0, over vour orchard occasionally in the. spring and summer and rub off allE surplus sprouts. It will be an adâ€"i vantage to the tree, leaving no, wounds to heal. (lllc hours work, then will be equal to a day next spring. I think it best not to trim fiuit spurs too far up the limbs, as lilill, )brings the weight itoo much on to.- lends of the limbs, causing thin to 1break. An orchard should lw cultiâ€" vated until it is five }l‘.l.5 old. I do not think in “(insulin to (Ultiâ€" vute laIer than the inhhl'i- of July late CUlll\Ll‘l\'ll siiinulmws nil-:1 early cold wedtler i. tlnliliiL- fi‘i‘ iz‘i't- b3 llt’lllgrll..tllll‘ri-l. After five yi-i: i-ulfii'o‘iwn. trees should love the full bench; Itho gro‘uul, Crying 1o Clover Cowlons lo 'l‘i'o growl l. inble to wood not 15 of of and 2;..iziiiziin vle {oddity of ,‘l‘." soil. tame a lrl‘oflt- may mule l.v rumiin it: "s in an orchard” ‘ ‘ LIN-HF and liars. making l 1.: re Il'i'llle and it is an ad- l I ..i. l I [11.2 lib, ‘ vantage to have faulty fruit. eaten up, thus destroying many inserts. Manure or fertilizer if used should be well scattered around the tree. The fibrous roots will take up the Strength. Should it be piled around the free the fibrous roots will not. lenve.flie tree. 1 do not think it ads visnblo to row grass in an Ul't‘lml‘d- A tree Silll‘l)Ul!ll<l, seldom amounts to anything. The culthntion of an orchard, especially plowng it, is like- ly to hill up around the. tree and it should be lt‘\’clml (lawn. in plowil‘i»: an orchard care should be taken not to bark trees; or plow too deep. .' think one of the best tools with which to cultivate an orchard is a cutaway barrow. “'I NTERING CALVES. The best feed we have ever used for calves, considering the money value, is bright, sweet corn fodder, stored in the early folk-under shelter, writes Geo. A. Groom. We cut our cam just as soon as possible after the shock on the ear is dry, but while the blades are yet green. When it is cured sufficiently to keep in a crib it is husked and the fodder tied in large bundles with binder twine. This method of handling facilitates the hauling and feeding very materially. Twenty calves have been wintered almost exclusively on such roughness, with only encugh good mixed hay to keep up their appetites. They com sumed about 150 shocks, worth 12k cents each, and one ton of hay, esti< mated at $12, making a total ol‘ $30.75 worth of feed. This is equi- valent to $1.50 per head for the enâ€" tire winter, which I consider very cheap. The feeding is done in a long, inclosed shed during snow storms or rain, and the calves come through with nice, sleek coats of hair, ready to take on flesh rapidly. when turned on grass in April. By keeping the calves inclosed we save about ten loads of manure, which pays well for the trouble of feeding. Many farmers winter their cattle in the fields. This is a mis- take. Not only from a business standpoint, but also from a humane point of view. Farmers, be consid~ crate and shelter your stock. ALFALFA FOR S OILING . When we consider the many good reasons why alfalfa should be grown on the farm, we wonder why it has not reCeived more attention. To get the best results it should be cut just before or at the time that it begins to blossom, and then it will start to grow again very readily, and an- other crop is at hand in a short time. For soiling, the patch can be cut over four or five times during the summer. By beginning at one side and cutting What is needed each day. if it takes four or five weeks to cut over the patch, by the time the last of the first crop is cut, where the first is cut there will be another crop ready to cut again. To avoid having some get too ripe at first cutting, the first should be out while very young and green. After the first time over it will be reaching the proper stage' when the time that it is needed ar‘ rives, As it is relished and eaten so greedin by {1.1 kinds of stock, it can be cut and cured as hay, stored and fed when needed. We do not know of any crop that will furnish so much good food in one season as falfa. It is rich in protein and fed alone is worth as much as other clover and a moderate amount of wheat bran. TRANSPLANTING TREES. Since countless roothars are lost in cutting off large roots in digging trees, it is a. good practice to cut the larger roots with a spade the fall previous to taking up. This causes the tree to send out nearer the trunk a strong growth of fine roots which will be taken up with the tree when it is dug. All cried and dead roots should be cut back with a knife till living tissue is ex- posed. When'the clean-cut, living ends are exposed to the moist Soil they quickly callus over and give out new roots. In like manner the rooting of lay- ers can be hastened by cutting away the bark on one side and exposing the cambium to the soil so that a callus is formed. The tree pruned will, in a your or so, have. a better root development than if planted unâ€" pruned. After the tree is set the top should be cut back proportionate- ly with the root. The lack of cut- ting back the top of the tree in transplanting Causes the drying out and death of many trees that might otherwise live. _.._...__+___. 151 THE WRONG PLACE. A local railway out West has an uncnviablo reputation for slowness, and many jokes are cracked at its expense. Not long ago a humorist was imxelling on this line. \\'llen a tiv_~’.etâ€"colleqtor Lallli: to examine the lii‘ki-ts, the humorist inquired:â€" “l'oi-s this railway company allow l‘.!*\ rigors to give url‘.'ii'i- if they giVe it in a respectful innum-1"?" The collector, suspecting fun at his own expense, replied in gruff tom-s, “l supiosi- it does." "lb-ll, then, collector," Unswered flie humorist, and he winlawl at his fdlo'Wâ€"pass-ngi-rs, “it occurred to mi- ;;5 we wow- comingr along, that it, woilil be Well 1.» dvtuch the cow- l'iom th- frir‘ (if the engine : if on to 11"..) roar of flu; ‘\\b that)” (l~;ii.i!'.(lr.-<l thi- ('Uli',"" far. “ Wk, ,"()11 5"'-'," \*".'.'rl:ill'rwil illt; ‘hliliH-l'irl. “‘1'” oi‘s' no? lib-l]: it) (H‘- U-Lgfl. ,1 row: but what's to prevent a wow rz'oiu into this pertinent and biting a passenger? strolling com-

Powered by / Alimenté par VITA Toolkit
Privacy Policy