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Suddenly, as ii‘ moved bv the great- ness of her despair, she rose, took down her bonnet and shawl from a hook on the wall, and. treading on tiptoo cautiously opened the front door and stepped out. She had not reached the gate when a hand gripped her arm, and Jake's said: "What! You would, would you?” “Let me go!" "Let you go?" he snarled. "Where to?" "Iâ€"I want air,” she pantcd. “Go on with you!" he rctortod, Jake walked up and down impa- tiently, kicking the furniture about, and in a few minutes She came in again with a. small‘box in her hand‘ He snatched it from her, knocked oil the lid against, the table, and poured out the contents. “Is that all?” he growled. “Never mind! There's more, plenty more, heaps more, where it came from, isn't there, my dear?" he added, as he flung the empty box in the fire. "Now then, I’m going into the town. You needn't sit up unless you like, me dear; but make up the fire, for I shall take a snooze in the chair. Bring the lamp here and lock the door, and 1'! anyone calls say v'I’m at the club.’ By leorge! and it won't be long, too, before I be- long to some of the swellest clubs in Londonâ€"eh, Martha? Cheer up, old pale face! Lord! you look as if you'd lost a fortune, instead of coming- into one!” Martha Hooper sank into a. chair, and almost fell across the table. her head upon her arms, a low moan of fear and despair breaking from her at, intervals. with fierce dorisién. “Do you think I don’t know where you were off to?- You were sneaking- ofi to the Towersâ€"to her, to give her warning! Look here, my dear," his grip tight- ened. and he forced her but:szer to the house; “you go in and stop in! .And if I catch you trying- that. game on again, I'llâ€"" he hissed into her earâ€""I'll kill you! I'll wring your neck as I would a jackdaw‘s! .What! you’ll spoil my game, will you" Try it! Only try it. In with you!"~ He forced her into where she stumbled locking the door after A couple of hours la Shé pvut her hand to her head as if half stunnedâ€"as indeed she was- then left the room. ger fool even than I took you for!” He got up and strode to and fro in a state of suppressed excitement, then stopped in front ‘of her. "But I'll change all that, my dear. It's my turn now, and I mean to have a. good innings. No pokov cottage for me, my dear; and something more than ten or twelve shillings a. week! Lord! when I think of it."â€"ho burst out laughingâ€""it. makes me dry!” and he wiped 1is hand across his mouth. “Here! Get me some money! Sharp 'd'xe hear? As much as you’ve got; the more the' better. Come, gather those scattered brains of yours, my dear. I'm going to manage this business from this time forward. A pokoy, miserable hovel! D'yo hear? Some coin, quick! Don't shake your head. I know you of old! You’ve got a. stocking somewhere, I'll be bound. You always had, Careful, Martha, oh?" and he grinned at her savagely. \V'itH a chuckle, he went out, slamâ€" ming the door behind him, defiantly, triumphantly. o o 9 o o 0 ¢ ‘o.¢‘o.o§¢.¢g~.t‘ 060.0‘9'1 “'And to think that I should have been roughing it all this time, living like a dogâ€"yes, like a dng!â€"‘Vh0n I might have been rolling in mom-y! it'sâ€"it’s enough to make a man knock his head on! But 1 never guess- ed it. I'm clever, I know, but. I never even guessed it! I was a fool! But -â€" with fierce cont.enipLâ€"â€"â€"”not half such a, fool as you, for you knew the gamv. and yet you went on living in this policy hole on ten or twelve shillings a. week, I dare say! While shcâ€" Yah, a miserable bit. of a cottage, a more hovel on a confound- ed moor, a. pigstye of a place! Liv- ing on cold chops, while she is roll- ing in luxury up at. that big place on the hill! Martha, you are a big- ger fool even than I took you for!" “It'sâ€"it's a. lie!" came from her White lips. He laughed and pointed his pipe at her. "No, it'a the truth, the solemn, beau-ti-ful truth," he rotol‘ted. "Why, I can sne il. in your face! It struck on mu liku a flash of lightn- ing just about two minutes ago! What! y0u'll turn me out. of doors, will you!" he made a. movement as if he were going to approach her. Jake seated himself on and swung his leg, eyeing maljcious triumph. . o o b 0 Q 'oaqz.u...$vso.oovufiQuzcm‘ § 35.80.:usfinnfimmtoso; forced her into the The Gypsy’s Sasrifiaa CHAPTER XXVI stumbled and fell. a‘ud door after him, left her. ORE A SECRET REVEALED cam u from her ‘o s c 5 0:. §ozu1 Q‘s ozv‘ azo‘ 0:0- ’o gop§ {09:0 Q .5 so} Q 0205 as she sat the. table her with passage But the most, marlmd alteration was in his face. A clean shave and 1‘ Crop Will do wonders at, all times, land they had worked a. striking transformation in Unclo Jake. It was not so difficult now to im- ‘agino him to have been in his youth a goodâ€"looking man of tho florid theatrical kind; indeed, as he stood .ill the middle of the room, holding lliimstclf as uprighl, as he couldâ€"for he had paid a visit to the publicâ€"house as well as tho barber's and readyâ€" made clothicr'sâ€"thcl‘c was a. distinct, flavor of the strolling player about him now look hereâ€"are you asleep?" “I mean to play this game all of my ownâ€"hicâ€"hand. All you've got. to do is to keep your mouth shut- hold your tongue. See? You can do that easy encugh. If anyone wants to know who I am, sayâ€"hicâ€"that I'm a long-lost. brother come back from sea. You might say son, for I‘mâ€"llicâ€"hnngcd if you don't look old enough to be my mother. I'm going to keep you company. my dear. You find itâ€"hicâ€"lonely in this outâ€"ofâ€"thcâ€"Way spot, don't you? Very as proud and hightyâ€"tighty as ever, I suppose?" “Ah! I’ll‘fctch her pride down a. peg or two, you'll see. Not that I mean to be anything but gentleman- ]y. No, onto a. gentleman, always a gentleman; that's my motto! If she acts fair by me. I'll act fair by her. Don't you be afraid, my dear! You’ll see how I’ll work it, andâ€"hie â€"yuu'll be proud of me. Anal who else is there? Who's that fairâ€"skinâ€" ned, delicatelooking girl I've sea-n?" â€"if I am treated fairly. But I mus1 be so treated. my dear; none of he! highty-tighty lax-ks with me! Tram me fair. and I'm a. gentleman to flu core: but try and play it, low (low: on me. and it's war to the knife Now look hereâ€"are vou aslmn‘?" He kicked the chair with ferocious playfulness. "Miss Tresyluinâ€"Lady Irene.” she murmured. “Herâ€"her ladyship 's ward.’ ' “O-h! Oneof your out-andâ€"out nobs she is," he commented. “I could tell that at a. glance. Got the rhinoâ€"â€" the money, I suppose?" “Oh, Lord! it's like a. play, ain’t it? And to think I’ve got her under my thumb! That I can bring her down on her marrow-bones with u wordâ€"with half a. word!" "She hi rich," éhe answered in the surge yelqctant. weary way. "Inâ€"deed! And what’s her ladyâ€" ship's game with her now? Ile thought a moment. “Going to marry her to one of her sons, ch? Let’s see, the young un’s married already. Prettv girl, that, old woman!" and he looked, at her keenly. “But not a nob like the other, eh. Never mind. So there's only the other, the earlâ€"â€" the Earl of Landon! “How's that for high?" he demand- ed, and in a. tone that, was some- how different to that of a. conple of hours.- provious. “Have a look at me all round, old woman! It's the Gentleman Stroller come to life again, eh? Ah, it will only Show what tip-top clothes will do for a, man. And I mean to wear tipâ€"top uns for the rest of my (lays, my dear: And so shall you! I’d have bought you a silk dress if the money had held out; but it didn’t, worse luckl’i He drew a bottle of gin from his pocket, and with elegant dexterity drew the cork with his teeth. Have a drop, Martha? it will do you good, No? All the more for me then! And now for business." He sat himself on the table in crouching beside the fire, she heard him come in, and turning her head stared at him in a dazed fashion. She scarcely know him. He had exchanged the suit for a second~hand one consisting of a black Velvet. coat and waisLCOnt, and a. pair of fashionable trousers. In place of the rough {gypsy cap he wore a. curly-brimmed felt but. His heavy boom had been discarded for a pair of Oxford shoes, and he car- ried a Malacca. cane, and wore a. crimson scarf. "That is what Irene says," said Madge, almost to herself. “She says that if I forget, what I was, no one else will remember, and all will be well. Royce, how good, how sweet she is! I love her." “I don’t know." she replied, “she is so fair and delicateâ€"looking; and there are shadows under her eyes. And when she smiles there comes a sad little look into her eyes and around her lips.'-'~ “Don't talk like that, Madge!" he said. flushing: "You are not going to make any mistakes or commit any misdeeds. Even thisâ€"this little businesa of the coltâ€"wouldn't count but for madam’s pride and Soy- mour’s spitefulness. Thank Heaven, he will soon be 011‘! There, run and make yourself tidy, or sit down there and keep me company. By George!" he ran on, as she sank in- to a. chair and watched him with loving eyes. “You wait until your habit comes home, and you are mounted on that little more John picked out for you! We'll Show the country how a. lady can ride. You shall go to the next meet with me, Madge, and we'll astonish them!" The suppr$sed warmth, almost passion, with which the last words wem uttered startled him. “Do you think she is very strong Royce?" said Madge. after a pause. “Strong? Yesâ€"why?" he said, rest- ing‘ the hair brush and looki'ng at her, not, directly but in the glass, 80 that she did not see the sudden gravity and something deeper which clouded his face. "Because of my riding the colt," she said in a low voice. "I saw that you knew; that the countess had told fibu." "Yes, my mother told me." he said reluctantly. “It was rather unfortunate that she should see you; but it. doesn't matterâ€"I mean, there was iwiing to be ashamed of, to make a. fuss‘ about. Onlyâ€"" he hesitated, then laughed, but shortly, as if the subject were unpleasant, “only, you see, madam hasn't met with a woman who can ride as Well and as easily as you, Madge, and But there, don't let tho matter trouâ€" blo you for a. moment. And the whole thing Wouldn't have been noticed but that Seymour"â€"his face darkened “happened to see you and he indulged in some of his pleasant sarcasms, and, so to Speak, worked my mother into one of her fits of passion." Madge sighed. "And you iad to bear it all Royce!" she murmured; “and you will have to bear all the blame for my misdeeds and mistakes, all through! Ah!" and she turned away from him; but he still held her. "Yes," she said softly. “I shall not make any mistakes there, Royce. I shall only have to keep quite silent and ride straight.” “I don't. know why you should keep silent, my darling,” he said gravely. “Don't be so nervous aboutâ€"about yourself, and you will be all right, Why. you are all right! “Oh. Ilenie's all right," he said in a, man’s cool way. “Everybody likes her; andâ€"oh, yes, she's a. dear, good girl "- ",E haven't noticed it. She was always quiet. If she's ill she ought to see a. doctor. 1’11 speak to mad- As she prepared herself for lunch she thOUght 0i Royce, and the trou- bled look an his fate, and her heart beat fast as she heard him enter the next room. She opened the door. He had thrown himself into a, Chair and was looking down at his boots in a, thoughtful, preoccupied fashion, but at the sight of her his face cleared, and he nodded and smiled lovingly. She went up to him and put her arms around his neck with a. Sweet Limidity which would have melted an anchoritc. "You are not angry with me, Royce?” she whispered. “Angry with you, my darling!” he echoed, drawing her down to him and kissing her. “Why should I be angry?" As Madge and Irene drove up to the ’I‘mvers the luncheon bell rung. "How quickly the morning has gone!" said Irene. “You won't be long. Madge dear, and, oh!" she added “how would it be for you to give madam her bracelet? That is Hither a happy idea, for She can scarcely scold you nhout the colt at. the moment you are restoring her valuable property!" and she laughed. Madge would have liked to have declined, but she said nothing, and took the bracelet. “Hallo, Madge,” he said, "nearly ready? I‘m rather late, but the tailor kept me; would talk about the first pair of riding broechei he made me, poor old chap!” less laugh, and nearly tell of! the ta u 310 got up and went slowly, wear- ily, from the room, and Jake tum- bled to her chair. Half an hour afterward she stole into the room. and fearfully .and on tiptoe Wont. to the door. It was locked. She went up to him where he lay back in the chair in a drunken stupor; but light as her footstep was. he heard it, and sprang to his feet. him where he lay back in the chair in a drunken stupor; but light as her footstcp was. he heard it, and sprang to his foot. "What!" has said. "You're trying it on again, eh?” He caught up the poker and lurch- cd toward her, and she fled. well, then, I'm your dear you'd thought lost. forever that part. and that's all to do; the rest is for me! you'd best go to bed, In you'll lose those rosns you choc l best go to bed, my dear. or I lose those roses in your 5." He laughed a cruel, heart- laugh, and nearly fell ofl the C HA PTER XXVII brother as >. You play you’ve got And now should he said nervous you will are all Royce looked up quickly. He un- derstood at once that. Seymour was planning" some fresh mortification for Madge. "There is no need for anything of the kind,"- he said. "I don’t agree with you,_my dear Royce,” said Seymour. -"It will be an excellent Way of introducing Madge to our friends and neighbors; and madam agrees with me, do you not?” “Royce can do as he pleases.”- Royce bit. his lip, but was- too proud to oficr any further opposi- tion. The meal, a far less stately one than dinner, proceeded, the countess scarcely opening her lips, and Madge being almost as silent. Presently Seymour said: “I have been telling madam that we ought to give a. dance in honor of the bride,” and he smiled at Madge. like "Certainly," must all study Madge." Madge flushed, and she glanced at the countess, who sat like a statue after the inclination of the head she had bestowed on Madge, and looked straight before her as if she had not. heard the remark. Royce flushed ton. and a. retort was on his lipfl, when Irene, who had entered at the moment, made haste to say before he could speak: “Are you complimenting Hadge upon her 'witchlng horsemanship? Wasn’t it wonderful! I would have given the World to have done it, and I wanted to try, but. she would not let me."- Madge looked at her gratefully. "She is my guardian angel," she said to Royce in a low Voice. Others may have a better system, but with" a, large herd and unfler our circuzrfitanccs, my method keeps the “No. no,” said Madge, quickly. “That would not do. Do not speak yet, at any rate. I will watch her, Royce. I shall see; we are quick to notice those we love." "Yes," he said gently. “I should see in a. moment if you were nbt happy, my darling." She glanced up at him curiouslyâ€" a woman's look, but made no re- sponse; and presently flinging on his coat he said: Thev went downstairs into a room smaller than the one they had dined in on the previous night. The coun- tess and Seymour were already seat- ed, but he rose as Madge entered, and made her a halfâ€"formal bOW. "Good-moruingâ€"erâ€"Madge," he said with his mixture of smile and sneer. “You have been driving this morning, I hearâ€"and riding,” he added. "I hope you have enjoyed yourself." “Come on. We are but it was my fault.” All feeding is done according to the amount of milk the cow gives, and when one goes dry she is put on a very small grain ration, and is usually fed a, cheaper grade of roughâ€" age. or if roughage is Very good she gets no grain at all. 1f the Weather is not Mormy they are allowed to go out. a part, of each day during- the winter, and all of the time during the warm weaâ€" Lhor, except for facr'uing and milking. They are numbered and, no mat.â€" ter how many there are in the burn, each cow soon learns her own stall and goes dn‘cctly to it when allowed to come in. Each cow's milk is weighed once per month and the weight of the milk with the cow's record kept on a board in front of her stall. My aim is to have them contented and comfortable Whether fresh or dry. and keep them in the same con- dition the year round. The cow probahly loves regularity more than any other animal living. live her a stall and let it; be her home, and all the vacation she wants from home is a few days before and after calving. Let her go out when the Weather in good, but always let her know that once or twice a. day at a regular hour, she will find something good to (at at home. We hwc here a herd of 175 cows and the following method of handâ€" ling them when fresh or dry has proven to be a satisfactory one. First, all the cows are dch'o‘rned; then in a. short time they are as peacetime as so many sheep. FEEDING cows WHEN DRY 'ery well," i if, Madge?" ther is not Mormy they to go out. a part, of *ing the winter, and all during the warm weaâ€" for facr'uing and milking. We are awfully late OUI‘ miss being away her attention is ca”; neither does is her stall when tinucd) Seymour. “We shes, my dear would The difference between common sense and mathematics was illustrat- ed in a remark which was made in a school the other day. It was the mental arithmetic class‘ The master asked Smith: “What would you rather haveâ€"half an apple or eight-sixteenths of an appk into en half th PLANT POTATOES EARLY. It is a pretty good plan to pla'nL potatoes as early as the weather am condition of soil will admit. The soil should be thoroughly fitted. A good clover sod will be well suited to this crop. Not very much stable manure should be used, as it is more likely to harbor disease and rot. There are special ferLilizers now prepared that produce good results with‘ this crop. On farms where the same crop is not grown on the land two years in succession. with good manage- ment, there should be the best sucâ€" cess. When grOWn for home use principally, choose the varieties that: are the best liked. I! for the mar- ket, then 01‘ course those kinda should be selected that promise the best in yield and prices. There should be at least two of the early varieties, a first and second for suc- cession, and then something good for the general crop and late keep- mg‘. The constant aim of the dairymar should he to grade up his herd to 0 high standard of productiveneas. No- thing but 21 pure bred sire should be used, and when commencing the farmer should choose one particular breed, and then stick to it. Chang~ ing from one breed to another was the cause of many a. failure. Calves intended for the dairy herd should be Selected from dams with a. good ro- cord as milk producers. The dam should be of good dairy formation. of strong institution, and have I good udder, and large, wellâ€"formed teats. Having selected the calf, the next point was the return”. If a. calf was not properly attended to during the early period of its exist- ence, it was frequently stunted in itl growth, and the. chances of it. becom- ing a profitable dairy cow material- ly lessened. The following is a. good food for calves during the first, year: A porridge made from meal mixed in the following proportions: 100 ms. ground oil cake, 25 lbs. ground flaxseed and 50 m. low-grade flour. Make the porridge by mixing the in- gredients together with warm water to about the consistency oi cream. Owing to the strength of the food. the calves should not be fed much of it at first, but as they become uc~ customed to it, feed a larger quan- tity if necessary. A number of farmers and dairy men labor under tho misplaced idea that it pays to cook rattle foods, and they put themselves to much work and trouble in cooking 0! steaming onsilug‘e. We have watched practical trials and experiments it? this matter, and have concluded that it does not pay. We know a. farmer who opened his silo early in Febru- ary god who had previously cooked the food before giving it to his Stock. But this year he. concluded he Would make a practical experiâ€" ment. So he took two healthy calves, lmth in equal condition. He fed one on cooked, and the other on uncooked ensilug'o from tho silo. At; the beginning of the experiment or test, the calf fed on the uncoode food Weighed 208 pounds. The exâ€" periment covered a. period of fifteen days, and at its conclusion the ani< mnl weighed 216 pounds and a. few ounces. The call‘ fed the cooked weighed 200 Lount‘ll in the beginning and at the end of the feeding tipped the scales only at 210. The feeding was very carefully done and an am.- lysia made while in progress. The conclusion reached was that cooked ensilago as a food for stock will not, pay, for the reason that by the cooking it looses much of its diges- tibility. The analysis made in the experiment here described showed that the percentage of digestibility in the uncooked ensilage was 71.6 per cent, and in the cooked 39.45 per cent, or but little over half. Cooking releases the sugar productu contained in the foods, and this fact: being generally known, his led many to believe that this would‘liastco the fattening process. but the gregt decrease in the digestibility prevent: this result. cows always contented. 'I‘h'ore II never any confusion in the barn. Loud language and clubs unnocessnxy and never used, because the cow- knnw their stalls, and go to th‘em di- rectly. IC-ach’ cow gets the proper food, because her ration is kept. on the board opposite her number. lt‘ requires less work and gives better resullu than any system I know of. ‘ ‘ Wouldn" aid Smith “W'nv n01 IMPROVING TH II) nor have (men And why. plea “are juice. CL sam COOKING CATTLE FOOD NOT QUITE THE SAME the mental arithmetic ,er asked Smith: would you rather havc e or cight-sixteenths “CC lenths and id cs, who was sit; scornfully. Th: DAIRY HERD. half an app! nd you‘d los difference, don't yOl' 111' are