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Marian l ayiic Or, The Strange Disappearance CHAPTER XVII. I It was late in February before the party reached home. ’l‘hurston‘s bus- iness finished he also hastened back and sought out Marian. One memorâ€"v,’ r able episode must be related. Thurs-l ton had met Marian not many yards down the lonely forest footpath, lead- ing from the Village school to Old Fields one evening. After a walk of about‘ a quarter of. a mile thrOUgh the bushes they deâ€"l sconded by the natural staircase of‘ mossâ€"covered rocks, and sat down toâ€" gether upon a bed of violets at its foot. Before them, through the canopy of over-arching trees, was seen, like a- picture in its frame of foliage, a lino view of the open country and the bay now bathed in purple haze. of evening. .llut the fairest prospect that ever opened had no more attraction for Thurston than if it had been a View of. chimney tops from a back attic: Window. He passed his right hanli around Marian's shoulders, and drewi her closer to his side, and with the‘. other hand began to untie her bon-‘ net strings. “hay off this little bonnet. Let me see your beauteous head uncover- ed. There!" he said, putting it aside and smoothing her bright locks "Oh, Marian! my love! my queen! when I see only the top of your head, I think your rippling, sunny. tresses your chief beauty; but soon my eyes fall to the blooming cheek ~â€"there never was such a cheekwsa vivid, yet so delicate, so glowing, yet so cool and freshâ€"like the damâ€" ask rose bathed in morning dewâ€"so when I gaze on it I think the blushâ€" ing cheek your sweetest charmâ€"ah! l but near by breathe the rich, ripe lips, fragrant as nectarines; and which I should swear to be the very buds of love, were not my gaze caught up to meet your eyesâ€"stars! â€"and then I know that I have found the very soul of beauty! 011! price- less pearl! By what rare fortune was it that I ever found you in these Maryland woods? Love! angcli Marian! for that means all!" he exâ€" claimed, in a, sort of ecstasy, strain- ing her to his side. And Marian dropped her' blushing face upon his sholderâ€"she was blush- ing not from bashful love alone-â€" with it mingled a feeling of shame, regret, and mistrii'st, because he‘ praised so much her form and face: because he seemed to love her on'y for her superficial good looks. She would have spoken if she could have done so; she would have told what. was on her heart as earnest as a prayer by saying: “Oh, do not think so much of this perishable, outward beauty; accident may ruin it, sickness may injure it. time will certainly impair it. Do not love me for that which I have no power over, and which may be taken from me at any timeâ€"which I shall be sure to lose at lastâ€"love me for something better and more lasting than that. I have a heart in this bosom worth all the rest, a heart that in itself is an inner world -â€"a kingdom Worthy of your ruleâ€"a heart that neither time, fortune, nor casualty can ever ‘changeâ€"a heart, that loves you now in your strong and beautiful youth, and will love you when you are old and gray, and when you are one of the redeemed of heaven. Love me for this heart.” But to have saved her own soul or his, Marian could not then have spoken those words. So he continued to caress herâ€" evcry moment growing more and more enchanted with her loveliness. There was more of passion than afâ€" fection in his manner, and Marian felt and regretted this, though her feeling was not a very clearly defined oneâ€"it was rather an instinct than a thought, and it was latent, and quite subservient to her love for liiiii. "Love! angel! how enchanting you are,” he exclaimed, catching her in his arms and pressing kisses on her cheek and lips and neck. Glowing with color, Marian strove to release herself. “Let me goâ€"lc- us leave this place, dear Thurston," she pleaded, attempting to rise. “Why? Why are you in such a hurry? Why do you wish to leave! me?" he asked, without releasing his hold. l “It is late! Dear Thurston, it is, late," she said, in vague alarm. “That does not matterâ€"I am with .1 you. "They will be anxious about me, pray let us go! They will be so! anxious!" she said, with increasm distress. trying to get away. "Thur. ton! Thurston? Yorrdistress me be- yond measure,” she exclaimed inl great trouble. l But he stopped kisses. Marian suddenly ceased to glc, and by a strong effort of will she became perfectly calm. And looking in his eyes, with her clcur, steady gaze, she said: “'lhurston, I have ceased to strive. But if you are a man of honor, you! will release 1110.” llis arms dropped from around her as if he had been struck dead. Glad to be free, Marian arose t3 . her breath with struqâ€" z MW depart. Thurston sat stillâ€"his fine countenance overclouded with mortiâ€" fication and anger. Marian besitatcc; she knew not how to proceed. lie did not offer to rise and attend her At length she spoke. “Will you see me safely through the woods, Thurston?" He did not answer. “Thurston, it is nearly darkâ€"there are several runaway negrocs in the forest now, and the road will not be safe for me." “Good-night, then," she said. “Good-night, Marian." She turned away and ascended the steps with her heart filled nearly to bursting with grief, indignation and fear. That he. should let her take that long, dark, dangerous walk alone! it was incredible! she could scarcely realize it, or believe it! Her 'unusually excited feelings lent wian to her feet, and she walked swiftly for about a quarter of a mile, and then was forced to pause and take breath. And then every feeling of inv dignation and fear was lost in that of sorrow, that she had \vullntletl his feelings, and left him in anger. And Marian dropped her face into her hands and wept. A step breaking. through the brushwoodunade her start and tremble. She raised her head with the attitude of one pre- pared for a spring and flight. 1:, was so dark she could scarcely see her hands before her, but as the step approached, a voice. said: "Fear nothing, Marian, I have not lost sight of you since you left me." and Thurston came up to her side With a glad smile of surprise Mar- ian turned to greet him, holding out her hand, expecting him to draw it through his arm and lead her on. But no, he would not touch her hand. Lifting his hat slightly, he said: "Go forward if you please to d') so, Marian. I attend you.” Marian went on, and he followed closely. They proceeded in silence. for some. time. Now that she knew that he had not left her a moment, alone in the woods. she felt more deeply grieved at having so morri- tied and offended him. At last she spoke: “Pray, do not be angry with me, dear Thurston." “I am not angry that I know of, fair one; and you do me too mur‘i honor to care about my mood. Unâ€" derstand me once for all. I am not a Dr. Grimshaw, in any phase of that gentleman's character. I am neither the tyrant who will persecut: you to exact your attention, nor yet the slave who will con); and whine and wheedle for your leV~ or. In either character I should dc- spise myself too much," he answerzd coolly. “Thurston, you are deeply dis~ pleased, or you would not speak so, and I am very, very sorry," sail Marian in a treinulous voice. “Do not distress yourself about me, fair saint! 1 shall trouble you no more after this evening!” What did he mean? What could Thurston mean? Trouble her no more after this evening! She did n.;‘. understand the Words, but they went through her bosom like a sword. Sh.- did not replyâ€"she could not. She wished to say: “Oh, Thurston, if you could read my heartâ€"how singly it is devotnd to youâ€"how its thoughts by day. and dreams by night are filled with histories and images of what I would be, and do or suffer for youâ€"of how faithfully I mean to love and serve you in all our coming yearsâ€"you would not mistake me, and get angry because you would know my heart." But these words Marian could' not have uttered had her life depended on it. “Go on, Marian, the safer than the forest; I shall you across it." And they went on until the light from Old Field Cottage was visible. Then Marian said: moor is no attend “You had better leave me now. They are sitting up and watching for me.” “No! go on, the night is very dark I must see you to the gate." They walked rapidly, and just as they approached the house Marian saw a little figure wandering abUIJL 011 the moor, and which suddenly sprang toward hcr with an articuâ€" late cry of joy! It was Miriam, who threw herself upon Marian with such earnestness of welcome that she did not notice Thurston, who now rais- ed his hat slightly from his head, with a slight nod, and walked rapâ€" i idly away. 0h! here she pulling at Mar- “Here she is mother! is!" cried Miriam, ian's dress, and drawing her in the house. “Oh! Marian, how anxious yor.‘ ihave made us! Where have you‘ been?" asked lidiih, in a love, half of chation. “I have been detained," said Mitt” ian, in a low \oice. tono of The cottage room was very invitâ€" ing. The evening :. chm,- enough to make the lll‘lgllt little wood lire agreeable. (in the civil} llt‘tll'tll li‘fol‘t‘ ll 5: the ll"[»il(.t and a cow-red plate of toast wailing for Marian. And old Jenny got up and sat out a little stand, covered it with a white napkin, and put the tea and toast, with the addition of a piece of cold chicken and a saucer of preserves, upon it. And Marian laid off her straw bonnet and muslin scarf, and sat down and tried to cat, for affectionate eyes had already! vnoticed the trouble of her COllnlull‘ ance, and were watching her now ‘ with anxiety. "You do not. sccm to have an apâ€" petite, (lt‘ul‘; what is the matter‘l' asked Edith. “I am not very well," said Mar- ian, rising and leaving the table, and rinruining with ditliculty from bursting into tears. “it's (lat or c sud infunni-lly party at Lockemupâ€"lust Toosday!" said Jenny, as she cleared away the tea servicc~"a-scrcwin' up tight in cus sells an' ball-dresses! nn' a-danciv. all night till broad daylight! .Slrlt'u heavr'n' of ever so much unwholr some 'fectionery trash down he: t'roatâ€"de constitution ob do United States hisself couldn't stan' sic‘il much less a delicy young gull! l 'visos ov you, honey, to go to bed. ’ “lndccd, Marian, it was too much for you to lose your rest all night, and then have to get up early to go to school. You should have. had a good sleep this morning. And 1h: '2 to be detained so lulu this chniI‘nr Did you have to Let-p any of tin‘ ,Q'il‘ls in, or was it. a Visit from ihi trustees that detained you?" “Neither,” said Mar lll, iurvouslv "but I think I must take Jenny's all vice and go to bed." (“ill \l‘ Halt XVIII. From that iniscrablo night, Illa: ian s:.\\' no more of ’l'hi.rsion. oxcoil ally at church, when llt‘(‘fllll< at irregular inti-rv and maintain ed the same coolnoM and (list-nice n manner toward her and with nialrh less self command, too, since oft/w his heart yearuc'l toward her “111 almost irresistible force. Cold and calm was his extc" ior, lie was sudoring not less tho. Marian‘ Self-tossed with passion, thi v strong currents and countcrâ€"currenIs of his soul whirlcd as a moral um.) strom, in which both reason and con science threatened to be engulfed. And in these mental conflicts julhw merit and understanding were oftx. observed and bewildered. and Ill! very boundaries of right and wroz:,_| lost. His appreciation of Marian wavm. with his moods. When Very angry he would mentalr ly denounce her as a cold, prudent, calculating woman, who had on trapped him into a secret marriage and having secured his hand, \vouu. now risk nothing for his love, an« himself as a weak, fond fool, the too of the beautiful, proud diploinii. whom it would be justifiable to cir~ cumvent, to defeat, and to humble it some way. At. such times he felt a des‘ .. amounting to a strong temptation. to abduct herâ€"t0 get her into lll; power, and make her feel that powi-v. No law could protect her or punisi. himâ€"for they were married. But here was the extreme point a: which reaction generally commenced, for Thurston could not contemplatl himself in that characterâ€"playin; such a. part, for an instant. And then when a furtive gland would show him Marion's angel facA. iaircr and paler and more pens.in than over beforeâ€"a strong counter- current of love and admiration ape proaching to worship, would set in and he would look upon her as a fair saint worthy of translation Li. heaven, and upon himself as a. do signing but foiled conspirator, scan i=â€" ly one degree above the most atro- cious villain. “Currents and coun~ torâ€"currents" of stormy passion, where is the pilot that shall g'llllll‘ the understanding safely throng}. them? It is no wonder, that onc. in a while a mind is wrecked. Marian, sitting in her pew, sac nothing in his face or manner to inâ€" dicate that inward storm. She only saw the sullen, freezing exterior. lllvcn in his softened moods of peni- tence, Thurston dared not seek her society. For Marian had begun to recover from the first abject prostration of her sorrow, and her fair, l‘C‘SOlllU‘ brow and sad, firm lips mutely as- sured him that she neVer would Cun- scnt to be his own until their maiâ€" riage could be proclaimed. And he durst not trusl. himself in her tempting presence, lest there should be a renewal of those humiliaâ€" tingr scenes he had endured. Thus pa‘ing a greater portion of the summer; during which Thurston gradually dropped off from the church, and from all other haunts where he was lilacly to encounter Marian. and as gradually began to frequent the Catholic chapel, and to visit l..uckenough, and to throv himself as much as possible into the. distracting company of the pretty elf Jacruielina. But thisâ€"while it threw lh‘. (lrizusliau' almost into frenzy, did not help Thurston to forget. the good and beautiful Marian. lnrloei, by contrast, it Hl‘t‘llll‘fl to make her more excellent and lo\‘ely. (To be Continued.) ____+â€"â€"_ i 171' Old Rattler. n (to chance ‘l!‘;i\'c. . con.pnuion)â€"â€""llave youi any children, sir?" “You, 91‘; a' mu " “.‘sh, huh-ell. lloes he sruokeTi “‘Xo, sir. lie has ne‘x’or 5.) much as" itttlliflllil a cigarette." “So much the lgciit'l’, sir; rim u.»~ or toll-auto is a :pmso' its liuluil. l'lm‘s lit.‘ I'l‘liillcrit‘ cl'Ll “lle his never put his foot in one." "."llou' me in coiu, jsrzilllule you. I‘m-r: be lzm‘t.‘ court" lllllilt' late?" “_\r~\'. Roi-.4 tu‘ lln l'i‘fl (ill‘w‘ilji' alf‘ii‘i‘ Hill“ '.\ ltt'i-l‘l .young man, >ir, a nu 1 young marri ‘llow old is he?" “Just six months.”] cassava Is as_critical a time as any in hog raising. {he litter eating of many soWs is largely due to bad feeding, causing a constipated and irritable condition. The sows digestive organs should be kept free and open to prevent this fevercd and litter eating condition by feeding r i @lydesdale Stock Food , Hg :1 better flow ofrnilk owingto the better blood circulation. Besides m This rm and better fruit than a diseased tree. For youngr pigs it makes more bone and muscle on which to put flesh, and nothing better for starting and keeping Rents; Lgrowing. _ It: ingredients are absolutely liar satisncd With results your money Che CARES-LINE ANTESEPTIC MAKE i rpton Co’s Lnxmorow, liixiana Stud, Fol. W. 1.. Estate of it}. ing Stallions, ’n‘ood Mares, Yearl hammer: is FASliI-TIPTON 5: CO. will KEARNEY’S, New Y Comprising Stallions and Bro FOR CATALOGUE or LEXINGTON SALE ADDRESS Thus. F. Kelly, Lexington, Ky. ‘ ~' ;’“:f'3‘»aihfiilfi.fihfio8’.z;..$flf“ as more and better pigs, as a healthy apple tree givcs more I Tlii‘siliiilailllw SALE \Vll.L BE THE AT ll‘liSDH’S fidfilE’AEH'S HEABQUARTERS Entire disposal sale, of Maj. B. G. Thomas ALL THE PROMINI‘INT BRFIJDERS have made entries, comprisâ€" e .- ie, sees. & Thos. R. Gardner; Simmons; Ashgrove Stud, w Lee. R. s. Payne. at i ? filcrning, Rancho do! Pass Stud, of California hit? “€55th mless and pure, and if you are not .» ertully refunded by the dealer. _. 5 THE PlGS AND PENS CLEAN. TRY HERCULES POULTRY FOOD. CLvonsnALr: srocz FOOD COMPANY, LIMITED, Tcronto, Ont. oix‘tl‘a Annual Sale, KENTUCKY, ings and horses to race. December 4 sell at VANTASSELL and ork City, the entire od Mares of extreme quality. FOR CATALOGUE or RANCHO DEL PASO SALE ADDRESS Fasiga'l'lpton co” Madison Square Gardens, N. V. ‘?“?‘"y"'r‘\“f‘y’v . .»-.~i»~mv~iâ€"v<r+~; t+++++++¢ t+++++++++++++++++++++ ILIXPERIENCES WITH THE SILO. I have three silos holding, whenl full, about 300 tons, writes Mr. Van Alystync. It is seldom that Wei {et in this amount, as they usually} settle from 2 to (5 feet, depending c-nl the rapidity with which they are f‘ll-»j 9d. Two of these silos are construct-j ed so that we can fill either withoutl moving the cutter. Frequently wel are able to get these filled quite solâ€"l l idly. This fall, we have put up 25“ tons. This amount will feed 45 to; 50 cows about seven months. We1 have no fixed date to begin feeding} silage. This depends somcwha on how much silage we have as CORP pared with other feeds and the con- dition of the late Pasture. If our supply of silage is insufficient to last until the pasture is ready in the spring, we, aim to supply a. sufficient- ly succulent food of some other sort, Sometimes we have pumpkins anll feed them until well into November. In my experience the most difficult time to make milk is the latter p-.L-'t of October and early November \vh‘n the grass begins to suffer from frmt and the cold winds chill the cows Silage fills this gap admirably. If l . . . Jr pasture 15 short, we sometimes fulfil“ right along from the time we till; i the silos. This year we began feedâ€"i ing October 15. We had been feeding pumpkins to the cows when they came in at night. When these were. gone, u‘e substituted a feed of ca.er cut bay. The shrinkage in the milk flow was very marked, being nearly a quart per animal. This happens, even With good pasture at our coni- mand. Our first severe frost did no:. come until October 2;“). We then opened the silo and bcgan feeding =1 half bushel or about 15 silage lbs. per cow. In 11:8 hours the flow of milk was again increased to normal. SILAGE FED AFTER IMILKING I The amount of silage to be given a cow, depends largely upon the illll‘ mal. When silage is abundant lelll the cows are in the stable, 1 full: my (inc-rusqu will average, in the‘ two herds, about :35 to ’10 pmmds silage per day with an {\Ll(llllOll"ill grain ration of about six pounds" which is supplemented with a small feed of rive or six pounds of buy at. noon. It is our custom to feed the grain ju.:l lit-fore mil1 i. The sila-"c " also “i\t*ll the cows .tcr the milk : n L ivi-n is done, while tiw hay is _ {bum at noon. This is largely it matter of L‘Ull'-':llit‘!‘.l_'l‘. (‘\‘\'{.\ uzll do just us \n-il ztll rim}: ;_ij occasion» oil ll) it “illiriht lllc‘ 1m." E‘I'cii, if they have all the rmfi re. the: want at night and morning. This period is no longer than from six o'clock at night to five o'clock in the morning. I have never known of any- one getting up at midnight to feed cows, nor that the cows suffered for lack of it. Theoretically I believe it is bette: to feed the grain on the silage, bu: practically I have never been able to detect any difference. The important factor is to be regular and have the right sort of feed at the right time. I have no set rules as to the amount of feed necessary to balance the sil- age. When I use early cut hay, I can get alone with one pound less grain per cow each day than when 1 ion.) hay that has been allowed to fully mature. In my experience I also find that there is about a pound of gl'll’l difference between cloV'er and tim- othy. Oats and pea hay call for from one to two pounds less grun daily than clover. I have all the carbohydrates I need in the silage, but for protein, I depend on the pur- chased grain. I usually buy grain that will give me the most digestibie protein I‘OR THE LEAST MONEY. When the prices are right, I haVe never found anything better than 23 p.c. protein and 17 p.c. protein ships mixed half and half by weight. Lafi’t year these two materials were too high and I used malt sprouts, dried brewers' grain and cottonseed meal. Sometimes I substitute and use l§n« seed meal, if the price is right. When there is sufficient corn in the valley, say about .50 bushels of ears to each ten tons of feed, I find about six pounds grain daily is about as much as can usually be fed with pro- fit. More grain will usually produce more milk, but quite often not enough to pay the increased cost (A production. This will depend on thu cow, the Price of feed and the amount obtained for the product. Milk at cents per quart will admit of more extensive. feeding than when it is worth only :3;- cents. I have for! silage for nearly 18 years with most excellent results. My cows have al- ways been in perfect health. 1‘.“ v calves thrive. on silage better than on clover hay. I have. some cows in my herd 13 years old, that have always eaten silage. Their general health is good and their teeth are in most excellent condition. I do not think it wise to feed silage before milking ~and always guard against this. LIVE STOCK NOTES. It will not hurt the brooding sow to .‘~11‘luul "or her breakfast once in. nubile l’n‘tli'l‘ that than to have her too fat to gg‘ct up and cut. Win-n you go to buy a new horse collar, tall- your horse along: and lil him. You would not think of H‘tl'ttilit a l11‘\'»"-'iill cf clothes for you: vb~ l11f- . ' could be there to try ii on llon'l. doped" A lu-‘s v i on letting; out a 51:11; iii-rt» and another one tin-re to niak it set. well.