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finial Or, The Strange CHAPTER XI. It should have becn an enchanting} home to which ’l‘hurston Wiilcoxcn' returned after his long sojourn in: Europe. The place, Dell-Delight! might once have deserved its euphon- ious and chaiming name; now, how- ever, its delightfulness was as purely traditional as the royal lineage claimed by its owners. Mr. Willcoxen was one of those, whose god is Mammon. He had in- herited money, married a halfâ€"sister; of Commodore Waugh for moch, and made money. Year by year, from youth to age, adding thousands to thousands, acres to acres; until now, at the age of ninety-five, her was the master of incalculable riches. He had outlived his wife and their three children; and his nearest of kin were Thurston Willcoxen, the sons of his eldest son; Cloudesley M‘orn- ington, the son of his eldest daugh- ter, and poor Fanny Laurie, the child of his youngest daughter. Thurston and Fanny had each in- herited a small property independent of their grandfather. But poor Cloudy had been left an, orphan in the worst sense of the' wordâ€"destitute and dependent on .the “cold charity of the world," or the colder and bitterer alms of un- loving rich relatives. The oldest and nearest kinsman and natural guardian of the boysâ€"«oid‘ Mr. Willcoxenâ€"had, of course, re- ceived them; into his house to bel reared and educated; but no educa-i tion would he afford the lads beyond? that dispensed by the village school-i master, who could very well teach! them that ten dimes make a dollar, and ten dollars an eagle; and who! could also instruct them how to write their own namesâ€"for instanccn at the foot of receipts of so many hundred dollars for so many hogs-i heads of tobacco; or to read other' men’s signatures, to wit. upon the backs of notes of hand, payable at. such a, time, or on such a day. This was just knowledge enough, he said,| to teach the boys how to make and save money, yet not enough to tempt them to spend it foolishly in, travel, libraries, pictures, statues, arbors, fountains, and such costly trumpei‘y and expensive tomfoolery. To Thurston, who was his favorite, probably because he bore the famin name and inherited some indendenti property, Mr. Willcoxen would, how- ever, have afforded a more liberal and gentlemanly education, could he have done so and at the same time decently withheld from going to some expense in giving his penniless grand- son, Cloudy, the same privilege. As! it was, he sought to' veil his parsi< mony by conservative principle. It was a great humiliation to thel boys to see that, while all the youths l of their own rank and neighborhood were entered pensioners at the local college, they two alone were takeni from the little dayâ€"school to be putl to agricultural laborâ€"a thing unpre- cedented in that locality at that time. When this matter was brought tOI the knowledge of Commodore Waugh, as he strode up and down his hall,” the indignant old sailor thumped his heavy stick upon the ground, thrust: forward his great head, and swore furiously by the whole Pandemonial Hierarchy that his grandnephews should not be brought up like clodâ€" hoppers. And straightway he ordered his car- riage, threw himself into it, and rode over to Charlotte Hall, where he enâ€"' tered the name of his two young re- latives as pensioners at his own prov per cost. This done, he ordered his coachman to take the road to Dell-Delight, where he had an interview with Mr. Willcoxen. And as he met little opposition from the old man, who seemed to think that it was no more than fair that the boys’ uncle should share the, expense of educating them, he sought' out the youths, whom he found in, the field, and bade them leave the! plough, and go and prepare them-i selves to go to C and get educat-i ed, as befitted the grandnephews o.’ a gentleman! The lads were at that time far too simpleâ€"minded and too clannish to feel their pride piqued at this offer, or to take offense at the rude manâ€", nor in which it was made. Cox mo- dore Waugh was their granduncle, and therefore had a right to educate them, and to be short with them, too, if he pleased. That was the way in which they both looked at the mattz-r. And very much delighted and Very grateful they were for the opening for education thus made for vas has been related; he spent ,bchvecn, grudgingly sent, and abont -just before leaving Paris. and soon For the old man confidently looked :forward to the time when the poor, fragile, failing creature would sink| into the grave, and Thurston wouli ‘ home flayfitltl In the meantime old Mr. Willcoxen was Very gradually sinking into the imbecility natural 10 his advanced age; and his fascinating grandson was gaining some ascendancy over his mind. Year by year this influence increased, though it must be admitt- cd that 'i‘hurston's conquest over hi; grandfather's whims was as slow as that of the liollanders in winning the land from the sea. However, the old manâ€"mow that Cloudy was provided for and off his handsâ€"lent a more willing ear to the petition of Thurston to be permitted to continue\his education by a. course of studies at a German university, and afterward by a tour of the Eas- tern continent. Thurston's absence was prolonged much beyond the origmal intention, two years at the university, two in travâ€" el, and nearly two in the city of Paris. His grandfather would certainly never have consented to this pl‘u; longed absence, had- it been at his own cost; but the expenses were nut by advances upon Thurston's own small patrimony. And, in fact, when at last the young gentleman returned to his naâ€" tive country, it was because his pr )- pei'ty was nearly exhausted, and hi; remittances were small, few and fill to be stopped. Therefore nearly pr:- t e niless, but perfectly free from smallest debt or degradationâ€"elem gant, accomplished, fa‘stidious, yet‘1 truthful, generous, gallant and asâ€"l piringâ€"Jl‘hdrston left the elegant: salons and exciting scenes of l‘a'ir: for the comparative dullness and dreariness of his native place and his grandfather's house. . . He had reached his legal majority; after his arrival at home he was ap- pointed trustee of poor Fanny, Laurie’s property. His first act was to vist Fanny in the distant asylum in which she was confined, and. ascertain her real conâ€" dition. And having heard her proâ€"l nounced incurable, though perfectly harmless, ne determined to release? her from the confinement of the asy- lum, and to bring her home to her native county, where, among the woods and hills and streams, Sher might find at once that freedom, space and solitude so desired by the heart-sick or brainâ€"sick, and where? also his own care might avail her. Old Mr. \liillcoxen, far from offerâ€", ing opposition to this plan, actually!1 favored itâ€"though from the less worthy moivive of economy. What was the use of spening money to pay board, and nursing, and medic-11, attendance, in the asylum, when she might be boarded and nursed and doctored so much cheaper at home? become her heir. And he calculated that every dollar they could save of her income would be so much added to the inheritance when Thurston should come into it. Very soon after Thurston’s return his grandfather gave him to understand the conditions upon which . he intended t’o make him his heir. They were two in number, viz., thatl Thurston should never leave liim again while he lived; and, secondly,. that he should never marry without his Consent, "For I don’t wish to be left alone in my old age, my dear boy; nor do I wish to see you throw yourself away upon any girl whose fortune is less than the estate I in- tend to beqdeath entire to yourself." CHAPTER XII. It was not fortunate for old Mr. Villcoxen's plans that his granson should have met Marian Mayfield. For, on the morning of Thurston's first meeting with the charming girl, when he turned his horse’s head from the arched gateway of Old Field Cots- tage and gallole oil, “a haunting shape and image gay" attended him. It was that of beautiful Marian, with her blooming face and sunny hair, and rounded rose-ate neck and .‘050111 and arms, all softly, delicate- ly flushed with the pure glow of rich, luxuriant \‘ilnlily, as she stood in the sunlight, under the arch of azure morningâ€"glories, with her graceful arms raile in the act of binding up the vines. At first this “image fair" was al- most unthought of‘ he was scarcelv conscious of the hauntir‘ presencd, fused through his whole bring. .'\.llll them. And very zealously they entered upon their academicai studies. They boarded at the college and roomed together. But their Vacations were spent apart, Thurston spending his at Dellâ€"Delight, and Cloudy his at Luclxcnough. When the academical course was completed, Commodore Waugh, as has been seen, was at some pains to give (‘loudy a fair start in life, and icr the first time condescended t.) use his influence with “the Depart- ment" to procure a favor shape of a midshipman's warrant for Cloudesley Mornington. in tho‘ when the revelation dawan upon lzis intellect, he smiled to himself 1111.1 wondeer if, for the first time, h: I was falling ‘n love; and then he grew l‘grme, and tried to banish the (fanâ€" ,gcrous thought. But. when, day after day, amid all the business and I pleasures of his life, the “shape” :pursued him, still land made it at home, and set it ‘upon a throne, where it reigned su- ypreme, (.l.l'lSlng delight over all his FMaI‘ian, remains to be seen. , gentleman ‘ passage. .and wintry repose has ever seemed a‘ or the life and light it gradually difâ€"l '; il'iss Maylfeld, but how is it with the tl‘cy instead of g3tting nu-' Igl‘y With it or growing weary of it. ',he opened nis heart and took it in, see again lhis living, breathing, glow- ing, most beautiful original. 'To seek her? For what? He did not even try to answer the question. Thus passed one week. 'And then, had he been disposed to forget the beautiful girl, he could not have done so. For everywhere where the business of his grandfather took himâ€"around among the neighboringr planters, to the villach cf llâ€"â€" or of C , everywhere he heard of Marian, and frequently he saw her, though at a distance, or under cl:â€" cumstances that mode. it impossible for him, without rudeness, to addrst her. lle both saw and heard of her in scencs and society where he ('ou'd hardly have expected to find a young girl of her insignificant position. Marian was a regular attendant n[ the l’rotv‘stant church at Benedict, where, before the morning srrvico, she taught in the Sundayâ€"school. and bxfare the f1llCl‘n0011 service she reâ€" ceived a class of colored child-run. And ’l‘hurston, who had been a very careless and desultory atten- dant, sometimes upon the Catholic chapel. sometimes upon the Protesâ€" tant church, now became a very rogâ€" ular frequeuter of the latter place of worship; .he object of his worship being not the Creator, but the creaâ€" ture, whorn, if he missed from her accustomed seat, the singing, and Praying, and preaching for him lost all of its meaning, power and spiriâ€" tuality. In the churchyard lxe some- times tried lo catch her eve and bow to her: but he was always completeâ€" ly baffled 'n his aspirations after a nearer communion. She was always attended from the church and assist:â€" ed into her saddle by Judge l'rovost, Colonel Thornton, or some other "potent, grave and reverend Sligâ€" nors," who “hedged her about with a divinity” that it was impossible, without rudeness and intrusion, to break through. The more. he was; baffled and perflexed, the more eager became his desire to cultivate her acouainfance. Had his course, been clear to woo her for his wife, it would have been easy to ask perâ€" mission of Edith to visit her at her house; but such was not the case. and Thurston, tampering with his own integrity of purpose, rather wished that this much coveted ac- quaintance should be incidental, and tiuir intorVicws seem accidental, so that he should not commit himself, or in any way lead lter to form e):- pectations which he had no surety of being able to meet. How long this cool and cautious foresight might avail iim, it once he were brought in close companionship with It hap. pened one Sunday afternoon in Octoâ€" bcr that he saw Marian take leave of her venerable escort, Colonel Thornton, a the churchyard gate, and gayly and alone turn into the forest road that led to her own home. He inmiediatcly threw himself into his saddle and followed her. with the assumed air of an indifferent pursuing his own path. He overtook her near one of those gates that frequently intersect the road. Bowing, he passed her, opened the gate, and held it open for her Marian smiled, and nodded with a. pleasant: “Goodâ€"afternoon, Mr. as she went through. Thurston closed the gate and rode on after her. “This is glorious Mayfield.” Willcoxen, ’ ' weather, Miss ' “Glorious, indeed!" replied Mar- ian. ' “And the country, too, is perfOCtly beautiful at this seasmi. I never could sympathize with the poets who Call autumnal days ‘the melancholy daysâ€"the saddest of the year,’ ” “Nor I,” said Marian; “for to me, autumn, with its refulgeut skies, and gorgeous woods, and rich harvest. and its prospect of Christmas cheer gay and festive season. The year's! great work is done, the harvest is gathered, enjoyment is present, and repose at hand.” “In the world of society,"- said Thurston, “it is in the evening, after the labor cr the business of the day is over, that the gayest scenes of festivity occur, just preceding the re- pose of sleep. So I receive you thought of the autumnâ€"the evening of the year, preceding the rest or winter. Nature's years work is done she puts on her most gorgeous robes, and holds a festival before she sinks‘ to her winter's sleep." Marian smiled brightly upon him. “Yrs; my meaning. I believe, only more poincedly expressed." That smile-that smile! It lightened through all his nature with electric, lifeâ€"giving, spiritâ€"realizing power, elevating and inspiring his whole beâ€" ing. His face, too, was radiant with life as he answered the maidcn’s smile. . But something in his eyes caused Marian's glanCcs to fall, and the rosy clouds to roll up over her cheeks and brow. ' Then Thurston governed his collu- tenanCeâ€"lct no ardent or admiring glance eSLaTe, and when he again his manner and words more dcf'orontial. “We spoke of the world of spoke l . were nature, world of man? To manyâ€"nay, ‘0! most of the human raceâ€"autumn isI flie llol‘ulfl of a season not of lcstiV-l fly and ioposc, but of continucdl labor, and increased Want and priva? tion and s " 3, “That is l): use society is not in harmony with nature; man has wonâ€" lit-:‘c'l as far from nailtre as from, lod," said Marian. l 3 “And as much needs a Saviour for llead kiln Luck to the one as to the ,otlier,” replied 'l‘ianrston ; nature. But soon, too soon, this [bosom's sovereign became the despot, land stung, SCallLd and urged him to “You lClitA'.‘ thatâ€"you fer-l if?" ask-i ed Marian. turning up:.n him one of, -l‘.er soul»thvillinc' "lLllli'CS. ' Q C! ' . usual manner. . unmarkcd injure the surface. oilcloths and linoleums. Wash oilcloths and linoleums with warm water and Sunlight Soap, rinse clean and wipe dry and the surface unharmed. . The col rs will be preserved Common soaps fade the colors and Sunlight Soap cleans, freshens and preserves Sunlight Soap washes clothes White without injury to the most delicate Fabrics, or to the hands, for it contains nothing that can injure either clothes or hands. Sunlight Soap is better than other soaps, but is best when used in the Sunlight way (Follow directions). Equally good with hard or soft water. 152 LEVER BROTHERS llMlT ED. Toronto delicious but, they inspiring glancrs, he answered, fervently: “1 know and feel it most profound- Thurston trembled with pleasure through all his frame; guarding his eves, lest again should frighten off her 13. And Thurston thought. he spoke the truth, though in sober fact he hal never thought or felt anything about the subject until now that Marian, his inspirer, poured her life-giving spirit into his soul. She spoke again, dcntly. "You know and feel it most pro- foundly! That deep knowledge an'l that deep feeling is the chrism 0'1 that has anointed you a messeng'cr and a laborer in the cause of humanâ€" ily. ‘Called and chosen,’ be thou also faithful. There are many inâ€" earnestly, ar- spireo‘, many anointed; but few are‘ faithful ! " “Thou, then, art the high priestess! that hast poured the consecrated oil on my head. I will be faithful!" He spoke with such sudden enthusâ€" iasm, such abandon, that it had the effect of bringing Marian back to the moderation and retenue of her He saw it in the changed expression of her counten- ance; and what light or shade of feel- ing passed over that beautiful face of him? again it was composedly. “You speak as the preachers and teachers preach and teachâ€"in gcneral terms. Be explicit what would yo.i have me to ('10, Miss Mayfield? Only indicate my work, and tell me how to set about the accomplishment of it, and never knight served liege lady as I will serve you!" Marian smiled. “How? Oh, you must make yourâ€" self a position from once people! I do not know that 1 can advise you how; but you will find a way, should.” “Being a woman, you have wonders!" “For a, woman," done said Marian , w ilh ‘a glance full of archness and merri- ment. “No, no; for any one, man or woâ€" man! But your method, Marian? I beg your pardon, Miss Hayfield,” he added, with a blush of ingenuous embarrassment. “Nay, now," said the frank girl; “do call me Marian if that name springs more readily from your lips than the other. Almost all persons call me Marian, and I like it.” A rush of pleasure thrilled all ‘through his veins; he gave her words a meaning and a value for himself that they did not certainly possess; ,he forgot that the grace extended to lhiin was extended to allâ€"nay, that she had even said as much in the very words that gave it. He an- swered: “And if I do, fairest Marian, shall I. too, hear my own Christian name in music from your lips?" 1 “Oh, I do not know} said the beautiful girl, laughing and blushing. "If it ever comes naturally, perhaps; Certainly not now. Why, the vener- able Colonel Thornton calls me ‘Marian,’ but it never comes to me to call him ‘John!’ " (To be Continued.) «~â€"â€"+ REMARKABLE GRAVEYARD. The Red Indians of l‘ala. in Califorâ€" ‘nia, were converted to the Catholic faith in the eighteenth century, and remain Catholics Urduy. lief in the resurrection is strong. Be- lieving that the dead must remain for some time in the grave, they obâ€" serve cxacfly the hour at which the spirit departs, and the rude wooden ovivr each grave in the ceme- tery states the exact hour, minute, and day on which the person (llucl. Suspend-ll from the arms of the cross is an alarm clock, with the bands Set at The alarm at the hack lwin at th‘ person who pl :-11 the bclirves that at the {ll‘tlprl' inorziwni the alili‘tll will sound and will awaken the sleeping spirit. (‘l‘OSS (ll lilo L‘li)f'l{ uni} lllllYllfilll. has set 'V'h i hr, ili)L‘lC t he re When he spoke, which to influâ€"i asâ€"Were I a man, l‘ Though ' ,smne superstitions prevail, their bL' 1hr particular hour. l+++++++++++++++++++++; E . , 3’ tail in fan; £+++++++++++++++++++Â¥i SHEEP NOTES. It is very difficult to fatten a poor sheep in cold weather. i (let the sheep in good condition before winter sets in. if you value the wool product, an even condition must be kept up. A poor sheep will (at as much and ,rcquire as much labor in securing fits fleece as a good one. Horsemen who divide their stock up into small {locks are recognized as the most successful shepherds and have the healthiest and best developâ€" ed sheep. It is a mistake to ignore the mut- l lten side of fleck returns when he loutcome of the business is ‘being estimated. The shepherd who has a lot of ,good fat sheep each winter, will lfind his feeding pays quite as well as the average. 01in the very best sheep, animals which are true to their Spt‘lelC varie- lties of breeds and full of promise, should be selected for breeding pur- poses. In a majority of cases size is onlJ a secondary consideration. provided only that the animal is fat, smooth and trim. Not only does it cost less to main :1 pound of young ile:‘h, but the former is worth more in market. The. man who makes his sheep as good as he can before sending t1 market, need have no fear of hi: place in market. l A thrifty animal, full of robusi vigorous strength, i: ,‘more capable of resisting the poisox of contagious diseases successfullj than the unthrlfty animal. If there are any sick or unthriftj health and :sheep in the flock, separate then and if possible, market them it some way. It will not pay to win ter them. In buying sheep to feed this win .ter, buy good ones. The value a the feed is the same whether fed h good sheep or poor ones; the differ euce in the profits will be with thi former. With the sheep selected for breed ing, the natural growth and char actor of the wool of the animals t4 ‘be mated should be a matter of fiI‘Sl class importance. The best interests of sheep lius :bandry does not so much call f01 fextraordinary weights as they d< ‘for the production of muttons 0 moderate weight and choice quality Valuable as blood is in breeding ;it has a very necessary adjunct am :that is, individual merit. Pedigrm is of little value in itself unlesn Jacked by individual merit. I’IOWOVcl‘ well grounded the posi tion of the wool grower may be at any time, he is short-sighted if hl neglefts to look after the motto: side of his business. But at the 1same time, he should neglect thi quality of wool and the interests 0 twool production. A Ehccp increases so rapidly ant linature at such an early age all! lthcir flesh is so wholesome for foot that on. the majority of farms 2 ~flock 011inin be made profitable it is claimed» that one sheep in) {each cow can be kept with var, iliitle if any arldiiional cxpvise a: lthe shch consumes much that tin ,cow will refuse. ' Lambs intended as next year": should not be broil at thi: as if, is better to give their .ionly of time to mature \‘.'tll. \l‘oo’. is a product from feeding just the Same as fat or fiv-éh, fine the flock should be fed and lll'lllkgt‘t Vick? in wool growth am fine quality. villi a that of