himâ€"it was a “still small voice, ‘- toned, sweet music, keeping near the 1 Mama, CHAPTER XXXII. on arriving at. Washington, our party drove immediately to the Mansion House. where they had previously se- cured rooms. The city was full of strangers from all parts of the country, drawn together by the approaching inauguration of one of the most popular Presidents that ever occupied the White House. As soon as our party made known their arrival to their friends, they were inundated with calls and invitations. Brother clergyman called upon Mr. Willcoxen. and pressed upon him the freedom of their houses. Alice Morris and Mrs. Moulion. the relative with whom she was staying, called upon Miriam, and insisted that she should go home with them to remain until after the wedding. But these offers of hospi- tality were gratefully declined by the little sci, who preferred to remain to gather at their hotel. The whole scene of metropolitan life, in its most stirring aspect, was entirely new nad highly interesting to our rus- tic beauty. Amusements of every de- scription were rife. The theatres. exhi- bition hails. saloons and concert. rooms held out their most attractive templa- tions, and night after night were crowded with the gay volaries of fashion and of pleasure. White the churches, and lyceuins, and lecture-rooms had greater charms for the 'more seriously inclined. The old and the young. the. grave and the gay, found no lack of occupation, amusement and instruction to suit their several tastes or varying moods. The second week of their visit, the marriage of Alice Morris and Oliver Murray came off, Miriam serving as bridesmaid, Dr. Douglass as Grooms- man, and Mr. Willcoxen as oiliciating minister. But it is not Willi these marriage fes- tivities that we have to do, but with the scenes that immediately succeed them. From the time of Mr. Willcoxen‘s ar- V rival in the city. he had not ceased to - exercise his sacred calling. His fame had long before preceded him to the capital, and since his coming he had been fre- quently solicited to preach and to lec- ture. . Not. from love of notorietyâ€"not from any such ill-placed, vain glory, but from the wish to relieve some overâ€" tasked brother of the heat and burden of at least one day; and possibly by pre- senting truth in a newer and stronger light to do some good. did Thurston thlcoxen, Sabbath after Sabbath, and evening after evening. preach in the churches or lecture before the lyccum. Crowds flocked to hear him, the press spoke highly of his talents and his clo- quence, the people warmly echoed the opinion, and Mr. Willeoxen, against his inclination, became the clerical cele- brity of the day. But from all this unsought worldâ€"wor- ship he turned away a weary, sickened, sorrowing man. There was but one thing in all “the world outside†that strongly interested †a low- dear mother earth and her humble chil- dren. yet echoed and re-echoed from sphere to sphereâ€"it was the name of a lady. young, lovely, accomplished and wealthy, who devoted herself, her time, her talents and her fortune, to the cause of suffering humanity- AlllS young lady, whose beauty, good- ness, wisdomye'loquence and powers of persuasion were rumored to be almost miraculous. had founded schools and hsylums, and had collected by subscrip- tion a large amount of money. with which she was coming to America, to select and purchase a tract. of land to settle a colony of the London poor. This angel girl's name and fame was a low. sweet echo. as I said beforeâ€"never 'noisy. never rising bighmkeeping near the ground. People spoke of her in quiet places. and dropped their voices to gen- tle tones in mentioning her and her works. Such was the spell it exercised over them. This lady's name possessed the strangest fascination for 'i‘hurston Willcoxen; he read eagerly whatever was written of her; he listened with in- terest to whatever was spoken of her. Her namet it was that of his loved and lost Mariamâ€"that in itself was a spell, but that was not the greatest charm" her character resembled that of his Marian! “How like my Marian?" would oft-'n be the language of his heart when hear- ing of her deeds. “Even so would my Marian have doneâ€"had she bten born to fortune. as this lady was." The name was certainly common enough, yet the similarity of both names and natures inclined him to the opinion that this angel-woman must be some distant and more fortunate relative ..f his own lost Marian. [to fell drawn to- ward the unknown lady by a strong and almost irresislable attraction; ninth.) you mean? he secretly resolved to sto :nil know her. and pondered and propriety. seek her acquaintance. While thus he lived two lives the outer life of work and usefutnss. audio†that Olly overheard them in the in his heart Ways. means by which he might. “not titayiic .‘ -- Or, The Strange Disappearance “Do you know, Miriam, that I have something-the strangest thingr that ever was-tbal I have been wanting to tell you for three. or four days, only I never got an opportunity to do so. because Oil; or some one was always present? But now Olly has gone to court. and mother has gone to market, and you and t can have a cozy chat to ourselves. She stopped to stir the fire, and Mir- iam quietly waited for her to proceed. “Now. why in the world don't you ask me for my secret? I declare you take no little interest, and show so little curio- silv. that it is not a bit of fun to hint a mystery to you. Do you want to hear, or don't you? I assure you it. is a tre- mendous revelation, and it concerns you. too!†“What is it. then? hear?" _ _ “Oh! you do begin to show a little lil‘ terest; and now, to punish you, I have a great. mind not to tell you; however. i will take pity upon your saspense; but first. you must promise never,_never. n-c~v-c-r to mention it againâ€"will you promise?" “"033! “Well, then, listen. Slop! get. a good place to faint first, and then llStOll. Are you ready? One. two. three, fire. The Rev. Thurston Willeoxen is a marâ€" ried man!" “What!†“Mr. Thurston Willcoxen has been married for eight years past." “Pshaw!†. “Mr. Willcoxen was married eight years ago this spring at. a little Metho- dist cliapcl near the navy yard of this city. and by an old Methodist preacher, of the name of John Berry.“ “You are certainly mad!" “I am not mad. most noble ‘doubler. but speak the words of truth and sober- ness. Mr. Willcoxen vas married pri- vately. when and w ere I said, to '1 beautiful fair-haired lady, whose name heard in the ritual was Marian. And my husband. Olly Murry, was the secret witness of that private marriage.†_ A wild scream that seemed to split. the heart from whence it arose. broke from the lips of Miriam; springing forâ€" ward, she grasped the wrist of Alice, and with her wild eyes starting. strain- ing from their sockets, gazed into her face. crying: “Tell-me! tell me! that you have jested! tell me that you have lied ‘3 Speak ! speak!" “I told you the Lord’s blessed truth, and Olly knows it. But Miriam, for I am anxious if) goodness' sake don’t look that wayâ€" you scare me almost to, death! And. whatever you do, never let anybody know that I told you this; because, if you did. Olly would be very much grieved at me; for he confided it to me as a dead secret, and bound me up to secrecy, too; but I thought as it con- cerned you so much, it would be no harm to tell you. if you would not tell it. again; and so when I was promising, I made a mental reservation in favor ;f yourself. And so I have told you; and now you mustn’t betray me, Miriam.†“It is false! all "that you have told me is false! say that it is false! tell me sol speak! speak!†cried Miriam, wildly. “It is not falseâ€"it is true as Gospel, every word of itâ€"nor is it any mistake. Because Olly saw the whole thing. and told me all about it. The way of it was, (Zon- gressional Library arranging the mar- riageâ€"the gentleman was going to de- part forslguropc. and wished to secure the lady‘s hand before he wentâ€"and at the same time for some reason or other, he wished the marriage to be kept so crei. Olly owns that it was none of his business, bill that curiosity got the up- per hand of him. so he listened, and he heard them call each other "i’hurston' and ‘lviarian‘â€"and when they left the library, he followed themâ€"and so, im- seen, he witnessed the private marriage ceremony, at which they still answerccl to the names of ‘Thiirston' and ‘Marian.‘ He did not hear their surnames. Ilc never saw the bride again; and he never saw the bridegroom until he saw Mr. \Villcoxen at our wedding. The moment Olly saw him he knew that he had seen him before, but could not call to mind when or where; and the oftener he looked at him, the more convinced he became that he had seen him first under seine very singular circumstances. And when at last he heard his first name called ‘Thurston,’ the whole lhutii flashed on him at once. He remembered every- thing chiinccted with the mysterious marriage. I wonder what Mr. Willcox- (-n has done with his Marian? or whether she died or whether she lives? or where he hides her? Well, some men are, a mysteryâ€"don't you think so. Miriam?" But only deep and shuddering groans, upheaving from the poor girl's bosom, answered her. “Miriam! Oh, don’t go on so! what Indeed you alarm me! oh, don't take it so to heart! indeed, I wouldn‘t. if I were you! I should think it the funniest kind of fun? Miriam, I say!" She answered notâ€"Ashe had sunk down the liner. utterly crushed by the the inner life of thought and suffering“ height of misery that had fallen upon the young people of his party. hoping hm». » and believing him to be enjoying the honors heaped upon him. yielded tin-in- selves up to the attractions of society. “Miriam! now what in the world do you mean by this? Why do you yield so? 1 would not do it. I know it is bad to Miriam spent much of her time willi,bn disappointed of an expected inheri- her friend, Alice Murray. One morning, when she called on lance. and to find out that some one els has a greater claim, but. indeed, I Mice. the latter invited her visitor up would not. take it to heart so. if l were to her own chamber. and seating her you. t ere, said. with a mysterious air: ’1’ -llie deathbed of his he may not utterly disinherit you, and even if he should. I would not grieve myself to death about it if I were you! Miriam, look up I sayl" But the hapless girl replied not, htard not. heeded not; deaf. blind. inscnsible was she to allsevcrything but to that sharp, mental grief, that seemed so like physical pain; that iieree anguish of the breast, that, like an iron hand, seemed to clutch and close upon her heart. tighter, tighter, tighter. until it stopped the current of her blood, and arrested her breath, and threw her into convul- sions. Alice sprang to raise her. then ran down-stairs to procure restoratives and assistance. In the front hall she met Dr. Douglass. who had just been admit- ted by the waiter. To his pleasant greeting, she replied hastily, breath- lessly: “Uh, Paul! comeâ€"come quickly up stairs! Miriam has fallen into convul- sions, and i am frightened out of my senses!†“What caused her illness?" asked Paul, in alarm and anxiety, as he ran up stairs, preceded by Alice. “Oh, I don't know!" answered Alice, but thought to herself: “It could not have been what. I said to her, and it it was, I must not tell.†The details of sickness are, never in- ttl'E‘Sllllg. I shall not dwell upon Mir- iam‘s illness of several weeks; the doc- tor's pronounced it to be angina pectoris a fearful and often fatal complaint. brought on in those constitutionally pre- disposed to it, by any sudden shock to mind or body. What could have caused its attack upon Miriam, they could not imagine. And Alice Murray. in fear and doubt, held her tongue and kept her own counsel. In all her illness. Mir- iam's reason was not for a moment clouded â€" it. seemed prelernnturally awake; but. she spoke not, and it was observed that if Mr. \\’illcoxen, who was overwhelmed with distress by her dreadful illness, approached tier bedside and touched tier person. she instantly fell into spasms. In grief and dismay. Thurston's eyes asked of all around an explanation of this strange and painful phenomenon; but. none could tell him. except the doctor. who pronounced :t the natural effect of the excessive ner- vous irritability attending her disease. and urged Mr. Willeoxcn to keep away from her chamber. And Thurston sadly complied. Youth and an elastic constitution pre- vailed over disease, and Miriam. was raised from the bed of death; but. so Changed in person and in manner, that you would scarcely have recognized tier. She was thinner. but not paler-an in~ tense Consuming fire burned in and out upon her check, and sniouldcred and flashed from her eye. Self-concmlralcd and reserved, she replied not at all. or only in inonosyllablcs, to the words ad- dressed to her, and withdrew more into herself. At length Dr. Douglass advised their return home. And therefore they set out, and upon the last of March, ap- proached Dell-Delight. . The sky was overcast. the ground was covered with snow, the weather was damp, and very cold for the last of March. As evening drew on. and the leaden sky lowered, and the chill damp penetrated the comfortable carriage in which they travelled, Mr. \Vilicoxen FL- doubled his attentions to Miriam. care- fully wrapping her cloak and furs about her, and letting down the leathcrn blinds and the damask hangings, to ex- clude the cold; but Miriam shrank from his touch. and shivered more than be- fore. and drew closely into her own corner. “Poor child, the cold nips and shrivcls her as it does a tropical flower.†said Thurston, desisting from his efforts after he had tucked a woollen shawl around her feet. “It is really very unscasonable wea- therâ€"there is snow in the atmosphere. I don't wonder it pinches Miriam," said Paul Douglass. Ah! they did not. either of them know that it was a spiritual fever and ague alternately burning and freezing her very heart's bloodâ€"hope and fear, love and loathing, pity and horror. that striving together made a pandemoiiiuni of her young bosom. Like a flight of fiery arrows came the coincidences If the tale she had heard, and the facts she knew. That. spring, eight years before, Mr. Murray said he had. unseen. wit- nessed the marriage of ’l‘hurslon Will- coxen and Marian. 'l'hat spring. eight years before, she knew Mr. \Villcoxen and Miss Mayi‘ield had been together on a visit to the capital. 'l‘liursion had gone to Europe. Marian had returned home. but had never seemed the same since her visit to the city. The very evening of the house-warming at Luckcnough, where Marian had betrayed so much emotion, 'l'hursion hail suddenly re- turned. and presented himself at that mansion. Yet in all the months that followed she had never seen 'l‘liurslol'i and Marian together. Thurston was paying marked and constant. attention to Miss Le Itoy, while Marion‘s heart was consuming with a secret sorrow and anxiety that she refused to com- municate even to lidith. lIow distinct- ly came back to her mind those nights when. lying by Marion‘s side, she had- put her hand over upon her face and felt the tears on her cheeks. Those tears! The recollection of them now, and in this connection. filled her heart with indescribable emotion. Ilcr IllOâ€" lher, too, had died in the, belief that Marian had fallen by the hands of her lover or her husband. Lastly. upon the same night of Marion‘s murder. 'l‘luirs- ton \\'illt-t:yxen had been unaccountany absent. during the whole night, from grandfather. And tin-n his incurable melancholy from that day to thisâ€"his melancholy augmented to anguish at the annual return of this season. ' And then rising, in refutation of all this evidence. was his own irreprouclr able life. and elevated character. Ah! but she had, young as she was. heard of such cast-s retortâ€"how in l ‘ - "‘ r In" , . . ». \\ by. if he is mailed, he may gum- llisnillll‘ of selfishness or ll'i'li‘riv of not have a foamy. and even if he has, y-zmioii. u crime 1qu been pt-rpt-li-attal' l t++++++++++++++++++++il I ’ it + About the Farm 1 It ++++++++++++++++++++++i SHEEP AND 1100 RAISING IN EUROPE} Sheep are raised in all parts of 1503'; land regardless of the quality or rent of: the land and the greatest part of the {00d used is produced on the farms. In the southern and central parts of the coun- try more use is made of pasture and forage crops for fall and winter gl‘flZIIlfâ€"l than is possible in northern England. where feeding must be done under cov- (1'. Sheep, either as a specilly or as an important adjunct of the regular farm- ing operations, are raised in all parts of Scotland. n the farming country where the rent values are from five doli- tars per acre sheep are considered in- dispensable. as they not only generally give hansoine returns in mutton and won! for the, feed consumed and the labor “Nitendcd. but they also increase the feiu lility of the soil. The Scotch farmer values sheep very highly as a soil tin- provcr. Although use of eommereial fertilizers is very general in all parts of the country, the farmer who takes possession of a wornout farm invariably resorts to sheep feeding as the surest and quickest method of enriching his land. On the hill and mountain land sheep are grown in large numbers. With high and well drained land the. conditions in Scotland are well suited to the production of sheep, as many parasitic troubles which "so often cause travy losses among the. flocks of Eng- land are. almost unknown in Scotland. The climatic conditions are favorable to this growing of roots. especially tur. nips which form the basis of practical- l_/ at sheep feeding. The fall and win- ter months are generally open and per- mit, the grazing of tile turnip crop. eli- minating a great deal of labor in liar- vesting and saving the labor of handâ€" ling the manure. Sheep folded on turnips are always fed from one-half to one and a quarter pounds each day of grain and cake. this feeding being relied upon to enrich the manure. The influence of sheep hus- bandry on the fertility of the soil is gen- erally recognized as of sufficient value to compensate for the labor expended and for one-third of the total cost of the grain and cake fed. in some sections 0‘ the country the terms of the lease en- title a farmer who is giving up a farm to reimbursement for one-third of the total cost of all cake fed on turnip around (luring the year. The influence o' sheep feeding on the soil is so great that many farmers claim that they can- not afford to be without sheep, even if they were to lose money on the mutton and wool produced. Two or three old welhers are considered the most vahr able and in lambs ewes the least valu- able io improved soil fertility. The tendency now is to use younger by one previously and afterward irre- proachable in conduct. Piercing wound after wound smote these thoughts like swift coming arrows. A young. immature woman. a girl 'f seventeen, in whose warm nature pas- sion and imagination so largely pre- dominated over intellect, was but too liable to have her reason shaken from its seat by the ordeal through which she was forced to go. As night descended. and they drew near Dell-Delight. the storm that. had been lowering all the afternoon came upon them. The wind, the hail, and the snow. and the snow-drifts continually forming, rendered the roads. that. were never very good, now nearly impass- able. More and more obstructed. difficult and unrecognizable became their way, until at last. when within an eighth of a mile from the house, the horses stepped off the road into a covered gully, and the carriage was overturned and broken. “Miriam! dear Miriam! (tear child. are you hurt?" was the first anxious excla- mation of both gentlemen. No one was injured; the coach lay upon its left. side. and the right side door was over their heads. Paul climbed out. first, and then gave his hand to Miriam, whom Mr. Willi-oxen assisted up to the window. Lastly followed Thurston. The horses had kicked themselves free of the carriage. and stood kicking yet. “Two wheels and the pole are broken anoitiing can be done to remove the carriage to-night. You had better leave the. horses where they are. Paul, and let. us hurry on to get Miriam under shelter first. then we can send Some one to fetch them home.†They were near the park gate, and the road from there to the mansion was very good. Paul was busy in bundling Miriam up in her cloak, shawls and furs. And then Mr. Willcoxcn approached to raise lit-1‘ in his arms, and take her through the snow; butâ€"â€" “No! no!†said Miriam, shuddering and crouching closely t) Paul. Little knowing her thoughts, Mr. \\'illciixen slightly smiled. and pulling his but over his eyes, and turning up his fur collar and wrapping his cloak closely aroun-l him. be strode on rapidly before them. The snow was blowing in their faces. but drawing Miriam fondly to his side. I’aul hurried after him. \\'hen they reached the park gate, Thurston was laboring to open it against the drilled snow. lie succeeded. (llllli pushed the gate, back to let them pass. Miriam, as she went through, l'niSf-I- her eyes to his form. There he stood, in night and strum. his tail form shrouded in the long black cloakâ€"tho hut. drawn over his eyes. the, faint. spirit-at gleam of the snmv strik- ing upward to his clear-cut prolile. the peculiar full of ghostly light and shade. up. xlmng individuality of air and titli- lilili‘. , .l l'. C-.~'Iii‘:e-J,. In Your Leisure Time If you could start at once in a busi- ness which would add a good round sum to your present earningsâ€"WITH- OUT INVESTING A DOLLARâ€"wouldn't you do it? “felt, we are willing to start you in a proï¬table business and we don't ask you to put up any kind ofa dollar. Our proposition is this: \Ve will ship you the Chatham Incubator and Broader, freight prepaid, and You Pay No Cash Until After 1905 Harvest. Poultry raising pays. t People who tell you that there is no money in raising chicks may have tried to make money in the business by using setting hens as hatchers, and they might as well have tried to locate a gold mine in the cabbage patch. The business ofa. hen isâ€"to lay eggs. As a. hatchcr and brooder she is out- classed. That's the business of the Chatham Incubator and Broader, and they do it perfectly and successfully. The poultry business, properly con- ducted_ pays far better than any other business for the amount of time and money invested. Thousands of poultry-raisersâ€"men and women all over Canada and the United Statesâ€"have proved to their satisfaction that it is proï¬table to raise chicks with the No. 1â€" so Eggs No. 2â€"120 Eggs No. 3â€"240 Eggs INGUBATOR AND BRBODER. “Yours is the first; lncubatorI have used. and I wish to state I had 52 chicks out of 52 eggs. This was my first lot; truly a 100 er cent. hatch. I am well pleased wi 11 my incubator and brooder. THOS. MCNAUGHTON, Chllllwack. 8.0." “My ï¬rst batch came off. I‘I‘got‘. 110 finerchicks from 190 eggs, ho can beat: that for the ï¬rst trial, and. so early in the spring. I am well pleased with incubator. and it I could. not ei: another money could not: buy it: rom.mo. Every farmer should have a. l.\0. 3 Chatham Incu- butor.â€"F. \V. KAMSAY, Dunnville, Out." “The incubator you furnished mo works exceedingl' well. 1t; is easily operated, and on y needs about. 10 minutes attention every day. R. McCtUFriE, MOOSE JAW, Assa." The Chatham Incubator and Brooder is honestly constructed. There is no humbug aboutit. Everyinchofmaterial is thoroughly tested, the machine is built on right principles, the insulation is perfect, thermometer reliable, and the workmanship the best. The Chatliam Incubator and Broader is simple as well as scientiï¬c in con- structionâ€"a. woman or girl can operate the machine in their leisure moments. You pay us no cash until after 1906 harvest. Send us your mime and address on a. post card to-day. We can supply you quickly from our distributing warehouses at: Calgary._Bran- don. Regina. VVinni cg, New \V estminster, B.C..Montrea1, Hall ax.Chatham. Address all correspondence to Chatham. 314 The Manson Campbell Co.,Limaed Dept. 35. CHATHAM. CANADA Factories at: Cannon, ONT., and DETROIT. Let us quote you prices on a stood Fanning Mill ~ or éood Form Scale. sheep in feeding than in former years. The lambs grown on the arable farms are nearly all marketed under one year of age, while in former years they were fallened as yearlings and two year olds. The hill and mountain sheep are also finding an easier market. The change in the age of feeding sheep was brought about by the demand of the retail deal- ers for smaller carcasses to supply smaller cuts. I-‘urlhermore. mutton from young sheep can be sold at once, as it does not require several weeks to. ripen. as in the case of that from two and three year old \vclhcrs. In practically all European countries considerable attention is given to the production of tings. As a rule farmers are not. engaged in the industry as a specialty. The prevailing custom is for each farmer to rear enough pigs to uti- iize the waste of the farm, but where dairy farming is followed as the chief ccupulion pigs are reared and fed in coiisiderable numbers as an auxiliary industry. The two industries go hand in hand, and to all apearanet-s neither one can be so successfully conducted alone as the two rombned. especially in those countries which rank high in tho I‘iroduction of high class bacon. '1‘th real secret of success in European feed- ing for prime bacon is due to the. tar-W; amount of skim milk and buttermilk it'll vaiiii grain and meal. â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"+ Jiiu‘s‘ Ii_\tll'.<. .lt'\\'.\ harps are hale prinwipally "n BOI‘coriu. the, st-zil of the industry hillf‘t: the sixteemn Century. .\ good win-1mm“ can make seven dozen iii (1 din, and. simple as the little .nslrni’m-nts‘nre, no fewer than '..\'t'iil.v bails an: employâ€, in their illiilllllui‘lui‘i: A ‘