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“:4 a «in 'Z‘ ‘ .{os~:¢§o:¢§o:.§¢:os The Gypsy’s Saarifiee CHAPTER XXIV'.â€"â€"(Continucd). He looked at her and understood that her object was to accustom Madge to the place. and to keep hel‘ out. of the way of the Countess and Seymour for at least one morning. "0h. he may come as far as the stables, may he not?” said Irene. "And he need no throw his cigar away need he, Madge?" W"--J - - ' ' “ - â€" - r 7 7*? a He Walked beside them, his hands thrust into the pockets of his shoot- ing ja6ket, his handsome face full of happiness, and that happyâ€"go- lucky CheC‘l‘inL‘SS which went so far to win hearts for him; and the sight of and two ladies and “Mastur” Royce created a sensation in the stable yary. It« seemed as if “every man, from the Coachman to the smallest help," wanted to do something for them, and was eager to attract, their notice. The Coachman came forward and touched his cap. his ruddy face beam- ing with a smile of gratitude for Royce's hearty “Morning, John, horses all right?" “Yes. Master ROyCe. Beg pardon, sir, beg pardonâ€"‘Mr.’ Royce now." “Got promoted since my mar- riage, you see," said Royce laugh.- ineg to the tw0 girls. Madge blush- edr "This is my Wife, you know, John," he said. The coachman touched his but with deep respect and admiration. "I wish you every happiness, ma'am; we all do." “Yes, yes,” the other men mur- mured eagerly: Madge’s cBlor grew still deeper, and they knew she murmured “thank you," though they could not hear her; and they would have raised a cheer, but that they remarked her timldity and were afraid of frighten- ing her. The coaohman led the way into the stables, and Madge’s first sensation was one of amazement and delightâ€" her next of sadness; for as she 10013â€" ed at the splendid animals in their polished oak stalls, saw the costly apparatus for ventilation, the tiled floor, every bit of iron and steel bright and glittering, noticed the scrupulous cleanliners of the whole, she thought of the poor people she had seen in some of the towns, crowded together in small hovels, stifling for want of air, liVing in an atmosphere of disease and dirt, and the contrast smote her painfully. Royce went up to the beautiful creature the coachman had so con- siderately ofiered Seymour, and the animal whinied a loving welcame as his master put his arm over the arched neck and patted it. "Yéu hnvéh't him-gotten me, old fellow," he said in a. low voice. “Not be, sir!” said the man. “Not if you were to be away five years‘. I’ve kept him as fit as I could! Mas- ter Royce." w. -WJ -V. “He is in splendid condition," said Royce. and be laid his hand gratefully upon the coachman's shoulder. “I've seen a. good many nags sinceâ€"while I’ve been away, but none to beat. him! I must have a. turn on him some time to-day.” “Yes, sir!” said the man proudly. “He's as glad as the rest of us to see you back, Master Royce! You'll be wanting one for Mrs. Landon, sir. I thought, of that directly I heard of your marriage, Master Royce, and I think I’ve got one that will suit. Giles, fetch out that new mare." (H182, the man who had seen Royce at Markham Fair and brought the new: to Seymour, came forward and tauched his hat. but. by neither look or sign indiCuted any previous know- ledge of Madge, and, going into a stall. brought, out, the horse. "She'll d'o. I'll try her with a rug round herâ€"nut that it's neces- sary if your pass her. John." The gfatifiéd man looked round at his mates as much as to Say, “Ain't he a, proper kind of gentleman, eh?" “And where's Miss Irene’s? 'Ah. she remembers me too!" and he went up to the mare and fondled her. Irene stood looking on, her face still pale, and the dark, shadowy rings under her sweet eyes showing very plainly, but she said not a word. They Went the round of the stalls. "I've got a. likely young thing in the paddock.‘dsirr,” saig John. H “We'll see that another day, said Royce. “Miss Irene wants the ponies DOW." 7"Yes, sir. They’re all right. She shall have 'em at once." Irene and Madge departed to put their jackets on, but Royce, with marvelous self-denial, refrained from following them. They passed from the stables into a little paved court beyond which was the paddock. “That was a beautiful horse of yours. Irene," said Madge. “\'es," said Irene absenlly, "I am very fond of it. Royce broke it for n1eâ€"-" she pulled up short, then went on hurriedly. “and that will he a very nice one of yours. Royce will soon {each you to ride her, dear; there ls no one so patient as he is â€"â€"-" She stopped again and bit hex- lip. It was hard, all in one short week. to beach herself not to speak of Royce as if he belonged \0 her. M s.:.m:.- .:.s.o° «wt. ‘4‘“ OR' O fiwo: q»: QO:‘@0.950:0Q o‘czo‘azO‘u:OQo:o%o: SECRET REVEALED m:~o.o-6:o§ 0:“ 6‘54“ "That is the young horse they spoke of," she went on quickly. Madge stopped and looked over the railing. and a girlish desire to show Irene that. she. Madge, could do at least one thing well took possession of her. "It is very pretty," she saw Winn a mischievous afiectation of timidity. “Do you think it would let us come near it?" "Oh, yes, I should Irene. “John would less it were quiet.” “Let ‘1‘]; tees," said Madge, and opened the gate and went into paddock. v,,,, “Take care, dear!" said lrene as Madge slouly approached the horse. "1 will be careful!" said Madge, smiling to herself. The Colt held its head up and lookâ€" ed at her with its “fiercely-gentle” eyes,.as the 'Arab poet; has it, and its cam pointed toward her curiousâ€" ly. and moved a little uneasily; but Madge got up to it, and speaking to it in a low soft voice, managed to get hold of its fm'elock. . "Take care, oh, take care, Madge!" called out Irene, and she entered the Paddock. rWBH- V7, "Don’t. come any nearer," said Madge "See there, dearâ€"on that rail, there's a, bridle am; a” cloth. Will, you give Vin}: _the bridle?” “Madge?!” exclaimed Irene. Madge looked at her with a mis- chievous gleam in _hc-r da_r_k eyeS. -'7‘7’1‘lr;ex‘re Visr no danger," she said. "1â€"1 Want to see if you think Royce really could manage to t_.each 1_ne.” 'Ire‘fie brought thve bridle, and with a gypsy's patience and tact Madge got it on the colt. V‘V‘T'he cloth, the cloth! Quick!” she cried, but softly. V The next instant. she was on its back. Scarcely knowing what she was do- ing, Irene ran and brought, the light. blue overwrap, which one of the men had left beside the bridle. Madge took it from her. whipped itâ€"yet gentlyâ€"round her waist, and in this impromptu habit looked down upon the startled Irene like the statue of a young ’Amazon. V'vI‘henuwith a nod and a “Good-by, dear!" let the colt go. ‘ She trotted him, cantered him. walked him, all perfectly, and at last galloped him at almost racing Dace round the paddock, bringing him to a standstill in an instant within a yard of the still amazed Irene. “Oh, Madge, what a trick to play me!” she said, her lovely face turnâ€" ed up to her with smiling reproach “Why, you ridkanything!” she con- cluded, woman-like missing her Sim- ile. “You forgot that I am a. gypsy. and that all gypsies are used to horses. I think I must have learned to ride bareback before I could even walk. Ever since I can remember I have played among the horses, like a. young colt myself. One thing a gypsy can do, if it is the only thing ~he can ride." "Are you sure you are quite safe?" asked Irene. "As Safe as if I were on the ground!" "Thenâ€"then gallop round once more, dear, for it is delicious! I thought I could rideâ€"a little; Royce always saidâ€"" Madge let the colt go, and tore round the paddock. The exercise brought the color into her cheeks, her eyes were sparkling as she pulled the colt up; then suddenly the color died away, and her eyes became fix- ed, with dismay and distress, on something behind Irene. Madge ~paled, and still keeping cloth round her waist slipped to grognd‘ "Do not mind. dear! It was my fault! It. was all my fault! Besides, after all, why should you be asham- ed? Why, Madge!" for Madge heav- ed a. deep sigh. "I ought not to have done it." she said in a low voice. It was a. mad trick. It was likeâ€"a common gypsy. And that was what she was Saying to hvrself. I could see it in her faCQâ€"her eyes." "I saw nothing; wrong in it, dear Madge. Aml I am sure Royce would have not: and it is he you have to think of." "Ah, yes! It is he!" said Madge. "Irene, you would not have done it?" “Because I couldn't!" she said with! simple candor. “If I could I would! i I will 110W! Catch the colt for me,‘ Madge, and I will show you!" and she stooped resolutely. Madge. shook her head. i "No use, dear," she said meekly.‘: “It is just. the difference between us.§ You would do it to screen me, andzl I did it becauseâ€"I liked it'. ‘And I‘, meant. to try so hard to be like you! 'A groom came up. “The carriage is ready. Miss,’ he said “Let us make haste," Said Irene. “We will both go in (ogcthor and share the scolding!" Then she flush- cd. “Oh, I forgot! I was thinking chat you were. a girl like myself, and not Mrs. Landon! Madge, do you know whqt I should do if I had been 3W pretty." she‘sa.1d with dear!" said Irene as approached the horse. careful!" said Madge, I think so.’ said not buy it Ufl‘ spoke she the Caug say. 0‘. t l“ i 0‘. .:. dcr o and ‘20 face ' ‘ 'J‘ ‘3' wee“ .0. Mon 3 l Ma 4. 1 mm {00L} on tim' the the I howvvel‘ caught, as you wereâ€"though mind, I say. there was nothing in it?" "What?" “Brazen it, out! Like thisâ€"see She drew herself up until her slen- der form was upright as an arrow, and with a defiant look on her lovely face walked forward haughtily. “Ah. 5'95! I could havé dmie itâ€"a week agn; beforeâ€"before I came to Monk Towers!" Madge found an exquisite equip- pnge awaiting them; a pair of per- fectly-matched white ponies, and a tiny phaeton with the smallest groom in the stable. Irene dismissed him, "11‘ we can't. manage these two white mice it is a pity," she said. “Now, where shall we go? Let me see!! We will go into Landon and home across the common. We shall be home in time for lunch." Madge was quiet for a mile or two, thinking of the late contre- temps; but, presently the pace the two white mice howled along, the fresh air, and Irene's efforts dispelled her sadness. and by the time they had reached the town her face had cleared. Shem noticed that wherever they went they were received with a re- spect so profound as to almost amount to awe. -WJ _.__-_- -- , ,, _ town shops, and various poims of interest, as they passed, were point- ed out to Madge by Irene. Then the ponies drew them at a. brisk pace to Gorse Common. “Here we are," said Irene. “I love this [)laCe. One can breathe here even on the hottest days; not that it, is hot now. Are you well wrapped up, Madge? \Vhat would Royce say if I let, you catch cold?" V . . _ . . 4,. ...... ‘AGFA "-‘fIfil’nlbv; you must be strong, dear, by the way you sprang on that colt, and held it." nvv ‘W__ w“. .. V- “I should have to try very hard to Catch cold. I never had a. cold in my life," she said simply. "Yea," said Madge smiling ruefulâ€" 1y, “I am as strong. as one of those savages Lord Seymour was telling us about last night; and as ignor- antf’ “Seymour; you mustn’t call him 'Lord,’ " said Irene. “If you don’t like Seymour, you might say ‘Lanâ€" don/ or the cart he is your brothen dear.” “Yes,” said Madge. “But it is hard to realize itâ€"yet. I will try." "There is madam’s pensioner, would you like to see her? She is a very nice woman, but very nervous and timid. She has had a. very un- happy life, I think, though I do not know anything about it. She is al- ways pleased to see us; shall we go?" ‘ «v 4,“,L, Martha Hooper came out, dressed with her usual neat and humble style. She flushed and grew pale by turns when she saw that Irene was not alone; and her thin, Worn face grew troubled and anxious when Irene said: ovMadge assented, and Irene drove to the Cottage gape. Vfix'siffloop'er made-a curtesy, and opened the gate with a. trembling hand. “How-Tic you do. Mrs. Hooper? I have brought Mrs. Landon, Mr. Royce's wife, to see you.” > “Thank you, Miss. Will you come in, ladies? 1â€"1 have a cup of tea-j” Irene always found it best to be quick and almost abrupt. with her; it is the best way with most. nervous people, whose nervousness is increas- ed by any Sign of it in others. “Thanks, Mrs. Hooper. Yes, We should like a. cup of tea, although it is in the morning. It is the very thing." Mrs. Hooper called a. boy, who stood staring at them, to mind the ponies, and preceeding the two girls, opened the door of the usual cottage parlor. “If you will go in and sit down ladies,” she said, “Iâ€"â€"I will come in one moment; theâ€"the tea. is made." The parlof had the ordinary unused look and smell of such apartments, and Irene said with a, smile: "How much more comfortable we should have been beside the fire in the kitchen! But poor Mrs. Hooper would have had a fit if I had pro- posed such a thing; andâ€"Why!" She stooped and picked up somethfiq from the ground. “Why! Ves. it is madam’s pearl bracelet!” “Madam'sâ€"the countess’?" Bald Madge. “Yes. How strange!” Mrs. Hooper entered at the mom- ent with the teaâ€"tray; and as she caught sight of the bracelet in Irene's hand the tea-tray banged down on the table with a thud, and her face turned waxâ€"like in its pallor. “It is madam's bracelet, isn’t it, They mad; ngeral purchases in the “It is madam’s bracelet Mrs. Hooper?" said Irene. The “oman hesitated for an in- stant, then she said in a low voice, which she was evidently trying to make careless: “Yes, Miss; her ladyship must have dropped it when she was here the other day. Perhaps you would kind- ly take it to her ladyship?" Now, Madge would have thought as little of the incident as Irene evident- 1y Hid. but for those words, "the other xluy.” For in a flash she re- membered seeing the bracelet on the countess' arm that night! Could it, have been to this cottage that the countess was stealing: in the darkâ€" ness of the night: and, if so, why should the woman try to conceal the visit? The Maidâ€"“Just, think, Nora, it, took the hairâ€"dresser an hour and a. half to put my hair in this style." The Cookâ€"~“Indade! An' did you call for it, or did he sin-d it home?" (To be Cont imlod Excavate to a depth oi six or eight inches and make bottom level where cement, [1001‘ is laid. Fill in with gravel or broken stone, or both, thoroughly Wet and tamp down solid. For stables, give the surface a. slant, from manger to gut- ter of one and onehalf inches. The tamping of foundation is Very im- portant to prevent splitting and cracking the cement. Mark place for gutter at, from six feet three inches to six feet, eight lllChPS, according to size of cow. Gutâ€" ter should be dug three inches wider and deeper than wanted when linish- ed. It. should be nearly level from end to end and when finished eight inches deep. Make a box four feet long and 8x18 in outside measure, to use in laying the gutter. If foundation posts are used, mea- sure back from manger the proper n'istance and drive pieces of one-inch pipe eighteen inches long into the ground. leaving six inches above sur- face to set foundation posts on by boring hole in the lower end to reâ€" ceive the. pipe. Posts set in the ce- ment will decay. Take a 2&x6-inch piece, long enough to reach across the floor the short way and a >5x2- inch strip of same length; Mix thoroughly one part cement to nine parts gravel, than sprinkle until damper than freshly dug earth. Lay the 2;~x6â€"inch strip two feet from starting point and fill with concrete and tamp Well even with top edge. Lay tWo and oneâ€"half inches of conâ€" crete in bottom of trench and set box in gutter. Fill around it with‘ concrete to Within one-half inch of top. When last strip of concrete is laid across cow stalls it is ready for the finishing coat. Place éx2â€"inch' strip on top of 2&x6-lnch' and apply on top of the concrete a layer of cement and Sifted sand free from dirt, in proportion to one part cement to three parts sand. Use board for a straight edge and strike ofi’ the top. Leave surface slightly rough‘, as cows will slip when floor is trowelcd off perfectly smooth. We have toâ€"day a. large number of excellent fanning mills on the marâ€" kot capable of so grinding our grain as to make it possible to separate the poor kernels from the good ones and thus materially aid in keeping up the yielding power of our grains. The old theory that a variety necesâ€" sarily "runs out" after a. number of years has been exploded. ’I‘he rea- son varieties deteriorate is simply because enough care is not exercised in grading the seed from year to year; the fanning mill is not used as much as it should be. This is a ‘great mistake. Even if a. fanning mill could be put to no other use than to thoroughly grade the seed each year it would be a great money- saving piece of machinery for the farmer. The instructions are plain and by them any farmer can lay such a floor himself. There is one thing to be kept in mind: The gravel used in mixing the concrete must be ab- solutely clean and free from sand, clay or loam. If stones are to be Had they may be crushed or broken and used for the first or foundation layer. but sharp gravel is necessary for the finishing coat. Only ethe hes-t cements should be used. improvement in live stock and grain farming is the order of the day. Antiquated ideas have no room in the brain of the progressive farmer of the twentieth century. When land is worth $100 per acre We must get more out of it than when it is worth only a. tenth of that amount. To do this We must adopt modern methods and must. Work Within the laws of nature. Like produces like. This is a. principle Well established. If we s-ow poor seed we need not expect to raise a good crop any more than we would expect to raise a good calf from a poor cow bred to a poor bull. Suppose we consider that this de- tel‘ioration amounts on an average to 2.5 per Cent. per year for the first six years. For 20 acres of wheat, 30 each of barley and oats, this would amount to an annual 1059 of 30 bushels of wheat, 45 bushels of cats and 30 of barley. At 75 cents per bushel for wheat, 25 cents for oats and 35 cents for barley this Would amount to a yearly loss of $40.50. 'l‘hese figures are conserva- tive, and the value 01 a fanning mill to the farmer is really more than this indicates. The improvement in ‘v‘arieties obtained from the Use of a gocd fanning mill is clear gain, as Suppose a man raises 80 acres of small grain per year, and that he has gone to some expense in procurâ€" ing good varieties. If he neglects to save the best seed each year his grains at once begin to deteriorate. In the course of five or sdx years their yielding power will have de- creaska fully five per cent. MAKING The cost of seeding and harvesting will not be any greater. Skim milk is the most valuable ad- junct of the dairy, but many feeders do not. seem to know just how to feed it for best results. Not in- VALUE OF FANNING MILLS ? EEE "'3 94m wm ICDING SKDI MTIJC :EMENT FLOOR- frequently it is poured into the pig trough clear. That will do for very young pigs, provided it is sweet, but, for growing shouts much better results will be obtained if the milk is mixed with some kind of grain feed. (.‘ormneal and skim milk, at. the rule of three or four pounds of milk to one pound of meal, makes one of the best balanced and most. milk to one pound of meal, mukes one of the best hul-unced and most complete combinations for shouts than can be formulated. rl‘he meal is quite heavy and inclined to set- tle. 1t. should be ground rather fine. We have fed tons of skim milk to hogs with most excellent results, and have used several combinations. One that gave evcellent results in making pork last was wheat shorts and sweet skim milk mixed just so it; would run. In connection with this protein slop we fed all the soaked corn the pigs would eat. We have keen ahlc on this kind of feeding, with pureâ€"bred hogs, to make about. fifteen pounds of gain from a bushel of corn, or, rather, from the price ‘of a bushel of corn invested in milk, shorts and Corn. The shouts had in addition to the above the run of clover pasture. Such results are rarer accomplished by swine feeders, but they Show the possibility and value of combining feed c0upled with good blood and careful feeding. Unless plenty of corn is allowed the mixture of. shorts and milk would not he as good as the corn- meal nnd milk mixture, because both the milk and shorts are highly pro- tein in character. There would not he suficiont carbohydrates and fat in the ration to properly balance it. But with plenty of corn in such con- dition that shoats can use it with- out getting sore teeth it makes a great combination. With the advent of the farm separ- ator fax'mors are enabled to get fine rnsults from the best by-product of the dairy. They may feed the milk warm and sweet, almost fresh from the COW. and if mixed as indicated above, will make money for the feeder, provided he has wellâ€"bred hogs, feeds skilfullv and keeps every- thing clean and wholesome. The test hay produced on the fa'rm is none too good for your faithfuk horse. Don't you know that sheaf oats makes _u, fine winter feed for horses? A horse~dictionary should be issued so that We could all_ get more horse- sense. We need more. Horses should have exercise daily. Standing tied up with the halter day after day often causes trouble. The horse needs water every day in the year, and more than once each day, and in winter as well as sum- mer. See _that the cracks in the barn are closed, and don't, let the horse shake to get warm. Be more humgnc. Horses need proper food in order to keep in good condition, and the ideal grain for horses is good oats. Don't put a. frosty bit in the horse's mouth on a, zero morning. The skin on the tongue is there fol a purpose. Watch the little things in horse- 'raising or the horse will be lacking in a greater thing. Keep your eyes open. Use the cun'ycomb and brush to remove the impurities which the sys- tem throws out, and also use them for looks. VDbn't put the cart before the horse, and don't try to make the horse fit. the harness. Adjust the harness to the horse. Put some of that straw under your horses. and see if they do not enjoy it. Keeping the horse comfortable pays every time. Has your horse a. comfortable bed these nights? If not, see to it at once. Act just as quick as if your own bed was not comfortable. Are you the owner of that horse? Are you ashamed of his keeping? Can you not improve in your method? These are only questions. Some curious and remarkable rea- sons are assigned for the desire everybody has for sleepin It is attributed by some peopl 0 an ac- cumulation in the system of the poisonous products of the wear and tear of the body during the day. There seems to be some measm‘e of truth in this, for in many diseases the patients are often sleepless. An- other hypothesis is that the nerveâ€" cells of the brain dwell apart from each other. as it were, during sleep. The brain is composed of millions of tiny bodies called cells, each having several delicate prolongations, or branches, for the purpose of com- municating with other cells. When the brain is fully active all these cells are in contact, or ready to be in contact, with one another; but the time occasionally comes, it is thought, when the branches of all the cells curl up, and their isolation fmeuns that complete communication ibetween the cells cease. ‘The state ‘of body and mind that follows is lwhat we call sleep. The most prob- ;able explanation 0! sleep, however, ;is that in some Way or other the in- ;ternal condition of the cells is changed, partly from exhaustion, and partly because of diminished sti- mulation from other parts of the (body. "Oh, my friends,” exclaimed the orator, "it makes me sad when I think of the (Lays that are gone. when I look round and miss the 017d igrru‘nfiiérriaces I used to shake hands with!" WHY WE MUST HAVE SLEEP. (‘0 NUERNING THE HORSE