. a seat. EWW trial I t CHAPTER XXXIII.â€"(Continucd). He was tremendously shaken, more by .‘the vivid memories she recalled than by the astounding charge she made. “In the name of Ileaven, what leads you to imagine such impossible guilt!’ “Good knowledge of the factsâ€"that this month, eight years ago, in the little Methodist chapel of the navy yard, in Washington City, you made Marian Mayâ€" ï¬eld your wifeâ€"that this night seven years since, in jug :uch a storm as this. on the beach below l‘ine Bluff, you met andxmurdered Marian \Villcoxenl And, moreover, I assure you, that these facts which I tell you now, tomorrow I will lay before a magistrate, together with all the corroborating proof in my pos- .sessionl†“And what proof can you have?†I "A gentleman who, unknown and un- suspected, witnessed the private cere- mony between yourself and Marian; a packet of French letters, written by your- .self from Glasgow, to Marian, in St. Mary's, in the spring of 1823; a note found in the pocket of her dress, ap- pointing the fatal meeting on the beach where she perished. Two physicians, who can testify to your unaccountable absence from the deathbed of your pa- rent on the nigfit of the murder, and also to the distraction of your manner - when you returned late the next morn- mg.†"And this,†said Thurston, gazing in mournful amazement upon her; “this is the child that I have nourished and brought up in my house! She can be- lieve me guilty of such atrocious crimcâ€" . she can aim at my honor and my life such a deadly blow?" “Alas! alas! it is my duty! it is my fate! I cannot escape it! I have bound my soul by a fearful oath! I cannot evade it! I shall not survive it! Oh, all the heaven is black with doom, and all the earth tainted with blgndf†cried Miriam, wildly . "You are insane, poor girl! you are insane!" said Thurston, pityingly. _ "Would Heaven I were! would Ileaâ€" ven I were! but I am not! I am not! Too well I remember I have bound my soul by an oath to seek- out Marion‘s destroyer, and deliver him up And I mhst do it! I must do it! though my! heart breakâ€"as it will break in the ac U “And you believe me to be guilty of this awful crime!†“There- stands the fearful evidence! Would~ Heaven it did not exist! oh! \vould Heaven it did not!" “Listen to me, dear Miriam." he said, calmly, for he had now recovered his self-possession. “Listen to incâ€"I am perfectly guiltless of the crime you im- pute, to me. How is it possible that I could .-e otherwise than guiltless. Hear me explain the circumstances that have come to your knowledge,†and he fit- tempted to take her hand to lead her to But with a slight scream, she snatched her hand away, saying wildly: “Touch me not! Your touch thrills me to sickness! t‘o faintness! curdlesâ€" turns‘back the current of blood in my veins!†"You think this hand a blood-stained one?" 7. “The evidence! the evidence!" “I can explain that evidence. Miriam. my child, sit downâ€"at any distance from me you pleaseâ€"only let it be near enough for you to hear. Did I believe you quite sane, Miriam, grief and anger might possibly‘ seal my lips upon this subjectâ€"but believing you partially de- rangedâ€"from illness and other causesâ€" I will defend myself to you. Sit down and hear me.†Miriam dropped into the nearest chair. Mr. Willcoxen took anot her and com- nienced: _ “You have received some truth, Mir- iam. “How it has been presented to you, I will not ask now. I- may presently. I was married, as you have, somehow as- certained, to Marian Nlayf‘icld, just be- fore going to Europe. I corresponded with her from Glasgow. I did appoint a meeting with her on the beach, upon the fatal evening in questionâ€"for what purpose that meeting was appointed it is bootless to tell you, since the meeting never took placeâ€"for some hours before I should have set out to keep my ap- pointmen, no grandfather was stricken with apoplexy. I did not wish to leave his bedside until the arrival of the doo- tor. But when uie evening wore on, an ,1 the storm approached, I grew uneasy upon Miriam's account, and sent Mel- chizedek in the gig to fetch her from the beach to this houseâ€"never to leave it. Miriam,the boy reached the sands only to ï¬nd her dying. 'I‘crrit‘icd half out of his senses, he hurried buck and told me this story. I forgot my dying relative,â€" forgot everything, but that my wife lay wounded and exposed on the beach. I sprung upon horseback, and gullopol with all possible haste to the spot. By the time I had got there the storm has! reached its height, and the beach was completely covered wilti the boiling waves. My Marian had been carried away. I spent the wretched night in wandering up and down the bluff above the beach, and calling on her name. In the morning I returned home to find my. grandfather dead, and the family and physicians wondering at my strange ab- sence‘a‘r'such a time. That, Miriaun, is the story." Miriam made no common! whatever. Mr. Willeoxcn set-mod surprised and grit‘i'ed at. her silence. “What have you. now to say. Miriam?" “Nutmng." . to death!‘ finite Or, The Strange Disappearance What do you think of my “ 'Nofhing?’ explanation?" , “I think nothing. agony of doubt and conjecture. be governed by stern factsâ€"not by my My mind is in an I must own prepOSsessions. I must. act upon the evidences in my possessionâ€"snot upon your explanation of them," said Miriam, distractedly, as she arose to leave the room. H “And vou will denounce me. Miriam?’ “It is iiiy insupporlable ditty! it is my fate! my doom! for it will kill me!†"Yet you will do it!" “I will." “th, turn, dear Miriam! Look on me once more! take my hand! since you act from necessity, do nothing from angerâ€"â€" turn and take my hand.†She turned and stoodâ€"such a picture of tearless agony! She met his gentle, compassionate glanceâ€"it meltedâ€"it subdued her. , “Oh, would Ileavcn I’might. die rather than do this thing! Would Heaven! might die! for my heart turns to you, it turns, and I love you soâ€"oh! I love you so! never, never so much as now! my brother! my brother!" and she sank down and seized his hands and wept over them. “What, Miriam do you love me, beâ€" lieving me to be guilty?†. “To have been guiltyâ€"not to be guufy â€"you have suffered remorseâ€"you have repented, these many long and wretched years. Oh Surely repentance washes out guilt" “And you can now caress and weep over my hands, believing them to have been crimsoned with the life-stream of your first and best friend?" “Yes! yes! yes! yes! Oh! would these tears, my very heart sobs forth, might wash them pure again! Yes! yes! whe- ther you be guilty or not, my brother! the more I listen to my heart, the more l love you, and I cannot help it!†“It is because your heart is so much wiser than your head, dear Miriam! Your heart divines the guiltlessness that your reason refuses to credit! Dov'liat you feel that you must, clear Miriamâ€"â€" but, in the meantime, let us still be bro: ther and sisterâ€"embrace me once more.“ With anguish bordering on insanity, she threw herself into his arms for a momentâ€"was pressed to his heart, and then breaking away, she escaped from the room to her own chamber. And there, with her half-crazed brain and breaking heartâ€"like ,one acting or forced to act in a ghastly dream, she began to arrange her evidence-collect the letters, the list of Witnesses and all, preparatory to setting forth upon her fatal mission in the morning. With the earliest dawn of morning, Miriam left her room. In passing the door of Mr. \Villcoxen’s chamber, she suddenly stoppedâ€"a spasm seized her -heart. and convulscd her featuresâ€"she clasped her hands to pray, then, as if there were wild mockery in the thought. flung them ï¬ercely apart, and hurried on her way. She felt that she was leavâ€" ing the house never to return; she thought that she should depart without encountering any of its inmates. She was surprised, therefore, to meet Paul in the front passage. - lle came up an! intercepted her: “Where are you going so early, Mir- tam?†. “To Colonel Thornton’s." “What? Before breakfast?†“Yes.†He took both of her hands and looked into her faceâ€"her pallid faceâ€"with all the color concentrated in a dark crimson spot upon either checkmwith all the life burning deep down in the contracted pupils of the eyes. “Miriam, you are not wellâ€"â€"come, go to the parlor.‘ he said, and attempted to draw her toward the door. “No, Paul, no! I must. go out," said, resisting his efforts. “But why?" “What is if. to you? Let me go." “It is everything to me, Miriam. be- cause I shspect your errand. Come into the parlor. This madness must not go on." “Well, perhaps I am mad, and my words and acts may go for nothing. i hope it may be so.†“Mll‘ifllll, I must talk with youâ€"not hereâ€"for we are liable to be interrupted CV0?!" instant. Come into the parlor, at lens. for a few moments.†She. no longer resisted thatslight plea, but suffered him to lead her in. llc gave her a soul. and 100k one beside her. and took her hand in his. and began to urge she her to give up her fatal purpose. llc appealed to her, through reason, through religion, through all the strong- cst passions and affections of her soulâ€"e through her devotion to her guardianâ€"- through the gratitude she owed him~ through their mutual love, that must be lsaci'iticml,‘if hcr insane purpose should i be. carried out. To all this she answered: l “I think of nothing concerning myself, 'l’uul-~-l think only of him; there is the anguish." “You are insane, Miriam; yrt. crazy [as you are. you may do a great deal of harnrâ€"much to Thurston, but much =morc to yourself. It is no! probable that the evidence you think you have will be considered by any magistrate of stilli- cicnt importance to be acted upon against a man of .\!r. \\'illi;oxcn's lift. and character.†“Ilcuvcn grant that such may be the case.†“Attend! collect your thoughtsâ€"flit: evidence you produce will pimbiddy be- considered worthy of attention; but what will be unimportant and quite 1111-7 thought of you who volunteer to offer it?" “I had reflected upon thatâ€"and now you mention it, I do not care." “And, if, on the other hand. the {PS- finiony which you have to offer be con- sidered ground for indictment, and Thurston is brought to trial, and ac- quitted, as he surely would be “Ah! Ileavcn send it!" “And the whole affair blown all over the countryâ€"how would you appear?“ “I know not, and care not, so he is cleared: Ilcaven grant. I may be the only sufferer! I am willing to take the infamy.†“You world as an ingralc, a domestic trait- rcss. and unnatural monster. You would he hated of allâ€"your name and history become a tradition of almost impossible wickedness." “Ila! why, do you think that in such an hour as this I care for myself? No, no! no. no! [Icavcn grant that it may be as you sayâ€"that my brother be ac- quitted, and I only may sufferl I am willing to suffer shame and death for him whom I denounce! Let me go, Paul; I have 10st too much time here.†“Will nothing induce you to abandon this wicked purpose?†“Nothing on earth, Paul!" "Nothing?" “Not so help me lloaven! lct nfe go, l’aul." “You must not go, Miriam." “I mufst) and willâ€"and that directly. Stand aside. “Then you shall not go." “Shall not?" “I said ‘shall not.’ " “Who will prevent me?" would he held up before the Give wayâ€"â€" “I will You are a maniac. Miriam, and must be restrained from going abroad, and setting the county in a eon~ ffagration.†"You will have to guard me very close for the whole of my life, then." At that moment. the door was quietly opened, and Mr. Willcoxen entered. Miriam's countenance changed fear- fully, but she wrung her hand from the. clasp of Paul‘s, and hastened toward the door. Paul sprang forward and intercepted her. "What does this mean?" asked Mr. Willcoxcn. stepping up to them: “It means that she is mad, and will do herself or somebody else much mis. chief," cried Paul. sharply. “For shame, Paul Release her instant- ly," said Thurston. authoritatively. “Would you release a lunatic, bent upon setting the house on fire?" expos- tulated the young man, still holding her. “She is no lunatic; let her go instants ly, sir." Paul, with a groan, complied. Miriam hastened onward, cast one look of anguish back to Thurston‘s face, rushed back, and threw herself upon her knees at his feet, clasped his hands, and cried: “I do not ask you to pardon me~l dare not! But God deliver you! if it brand me and my accusation with infamy! and God fercver bless you !" Then rising, she fled from the room. The brothers looked at each other. “Thurston, do you know where she has gone? What she intends to do?" “Yes.†“You do?" “Assuredly." _ “And you would not prevent her?" “Most certainly not.†Paul was gazing into his brother‘s eyes. and. as he gazed, eyery vostigc of 'doubt and suspicion vanished from his mind; it was like the sudden clearing up of thcs ky. and shining forth of the sun; he grasped his brother‘s hands with cor- dial joy. “God bless you, Thurston 1 echo her prayer. God forever bless you! But, Thurston, would it not have been wiser to prevent her going out?" “llow? Would you with Miriamâ€"restrained liberty?" V “Yes! I would have done so!" “That would have been not only wrong, but useless; if her strong affec- tions for us were powerless to restrain her, be sure that physical means would fail; she would make herself helird in some way. and thus make our cause much worse. Besides. I should loathe, for myself, to resort to any such expe- dients." "lint she may do so much harm. you?" “I am prepared to meet what comes!" “Strange infatuation! that she should believe you to be~I will not wrong you by finishing the sentence." “She does not at heart believe me. guilâ€" tyâ€"her mind is. in a storm. She is bound bvhcr oath to act upon the evi- dence rather than upon her own feelings, have used force her personal A 1'! 'l and that evidence is much stronger against me, l’aul, than you have any idea of. (tome illlu my study, and I will tell you the whole. story.†- And l’uul followed him thither. (To be continued). ’“l 'I‘Ill‘l \VIFE"S DAY OFI". “No one seems to have thought that wives should have a day off'a whole day to herself,†says a married man of many years‘ standing. “It dawned upon me after I had been married twelve years that everyone in my household had a day of! except my wife. I always had Sundays. the children had Satur- days and Sundays free. from school, and the servants had 'l‘hursduys. One day it came into my mind that in an other- wise justly managed household my wife did not have a whole day, or a part of a day, which she could call her very own. So 1 sat down and talked it all over with hers-and nth-r a good deal of argument on lu-r part, for she is a much domesti- cated woman, we decided that once every week the family should fish for itself while my wife went shopping or visit- ing. or anything she wanted to do, “npnut twithcring her head about the dinner or th: children at home. The planwvorks like a charm. We have lots of fun, too, trying to show her how much better we can run things without her.‘ â€"â€"-â€"_ +f+++++++++++ +++++H++ I that it is best to leave well enough alone i limit its faint + i +++++++++++++++++++++ V\'l.\'Tl:‘. R [NG YOL‘XG (EXIT! .13}. + + t + + + + I + Four filings are necessary to insure: fair growth and good condition in young (attic during the winter, writes Mr. olm Brigg. These are all Within the power and reach of every one to obtain it he so desires. First, shelter. Since our timber has been taken away live stock cannot be left out. in open lots as in former years without suffering serf- cus loss and discomfort. Where the ('v‘ner has not sufficient barn room and is not able to build it, .good shelter can be had by making straw sheds for them with but trifling expense. Or, in the ab- sence of straw, warm sheds may he made by using fodder for sides and roof and this can be fed in late spring “here the danger of cold rain or snows is past. At any rate. sheds can, and should be provided for them so they may have protection in bad weather. Then they should have plenty of pure, clean water. Many farmers entertain the idea that. stock cattle will not drink much in cold weather, This is a mis- take. They are eating dry fodder, hay or straw, as the case may be, and they must have plenty of water to assist na- ture in dissolving these dry foods. And they should have it at will. By this means they will not be so likely to fill themselves full of cold water sufficient- lv so to chill their entire system and make what should be a source of coni‘ fort to them a source of discomfort. They should also be fed plenty of forage either fodder or hay, clover or mixed [referred and straw about all they will consume, with a small ration of grain once or twice a day. t This grain may be fed in the shape of corn in the shock if any is grown on the farm small enough that they can readily asticate it, if not larger corn may be iusked and chopped into small pieces with hatchet or corn knife so that. the yearling steer can readily take l‘old of and eat it. Some farmers shell corn, others prefer grinding corn, cob and all and feeding in that way. This latter method requires more careful equipment and greater care in feeding than either of the two other methods For calves, however, we prefer shelling corn and mixing one part cats to two parts corn. The young animal will do letter and make better growth with part ration of cats than where corn alone is fed. There is more. protein in oats and the growing animal needs more of that. ,l-Iowever, if clover hay is used, the protein in that will even up the. corn and fodder and make better rations. My son is feeding at this time ten head of nice SOO-pound yearlings in ,this way. giving them a small ration of shock corn morning and evening with fodder all they want and clover hay oc- casionally. They also have all the straw they desire. Their corn ration consists of about one. bushel a‘duy to the: head. This would give cactronly about 5%, pounds shelled corn a day in addition to the rough feed they get. The gain is not large nor would we expect it. to be, but their condition is good, they are do- ing well and making fair growth. About April 1, the grain ration for these cattle will be increased. probably doubled, and by the time grass comes they wilt/be. in ï¬ne condition to grow and take on flesh during the spring and summer months. When this method of disposing of the forage crops of the farms is practised! ah rough feeds, such as fodder, hay and straw, is \v/orkcd up into manure and put back upondho land from whence it come. And we believe that young cat- tlc, sheep or colts carried through the winter on rough feeds mainly, do not pay large profits for feeding. yet the in.- eidcntal profits coming from the business ii.- increased fertility' and consequently lurgcr yields of other crops, makes the feeding of forage, consuming animals on the farms almost a necessity rather than a choice. And in these days of close competition and small profits in busi- ness farmers are compelled to practise such methods as will givevthcm niaxi~ mum results at minimum cost of pro. ducing them. FEEDING .IIORSIZS FOP. PROFIT. It is a singular fact that exact data regarding the best method of feeding horser is far less common than for feeding other Classes of live stock. From one point of view this is not surprising, since the horse is used unduly for work or pleasure, while. Cows, beef. cattle! sheep, hogs or poultry are fed for their products. Therefore, it, is relatively" much cusir-r to determine the effect of various rations upon other stock than upon horses. If a horse keeps in [ordinarily good cunâ€" ditionftho fccdcr is apt to conclude that his feed is all right in every I'cs‘pef't, It may be, however, that such a feed cost from 25 to 50 per cent. more than would a different ration that might give as good or better results. The above conditions partly explain why there are so few mixed feeds on the market flint are particularly design- ed for horses. One of the best of these feeds, whose merit has been thoroughly demonstralrwl by careful uschcontains a lilanrul proportion of barley. The 0C0- noniy of this iced is evidently due in part tn the barley if. Contains. Moreowr, tlu- but-Icy being ï¬nch, ground. and also the corn and outs in the feed being ground with equal fine- ness, makes a mixture each particle of which is so small and so broken up that the whole can be thoroughly digested. This is an extremely important point in feeding horses, as everyone who keeps horses realizes that a considerable part of whatever whole «rain is fed is evaeu< ated in an undigested condition. This serious \VflSli: seems to be largely pre- vented by the use of a properly balanced ration of finely ground grains. The horse naturally consumes hay or coarse fodder to furnish the roughage required for the best operation of the horse‘s- digestive apparatus. If. is not nccrssary, therefore, to feed whole grain when hay or straw is used. either whole or cut. The fact that an increasing number of farmers and horse breeders are proving the truth of the above state- ments by their results with fine ground feed for horses, is also emphasized by numerous city stables where large num- l-ers of horses are cared for. This point is an important one. sincethe economy of fine ground feeds proves to be so great as to make it profitable to use such feeds instead of feeding horses on whole grain as is usually done. BUTTER FOR PRIVATE TRADE. The milk is run through a hand separ- ator morning and night. directly after milking, writes Mrs. F. R. B. The cream is set away in the cellar, care being taken to have it properly cooled before turning in with other cream. Unless this is done while flakes will appear in the buffer In warm weather we can churn every other day in.the summer, not churning any cream that has been separated within 2t hours, keeping that in another cream pail, toward the next. churning. We use a barrel churn, have the temperature of the cream about 60 degrees, also use a little butter color. The churn is stopped as soon as the butter comes in small granules. The buttermilk is drawn off. .The butter is washed in two waters, then taken up in a bowl and salted to suit our custo- mers. Some like an ounce of salt to a pound of butter, but more prefer an ounce and a half. The butter is worked just enough to distribute the salt. It is then set away for two or three hours, when it is worked a very little and pack- ed in five and ten-pound jars: The crocks are covered with white cheesecloth and then with wrapping paper neatly tied over them. They are now ready to be delivered’to our custo- mers. We do not use ice. Very cold well water. am! a good cellar prevent our having soft butter as we (lid in for- mer days when we worked in the old way. _____+__ THE ONLY BORN‘KING. There is a fact. about King Alfonso well worth knowing. Of all the kings who have ever lived, with the sole. exâ€" ception of Jean 1. of France, who lived but a few hours, he is the only one to be a king from the moment of his ï¬rst. breath-a veritable ‘born king.’ And since he is much spoken of these days it is not amiss to know his name, which is His Most Catholic h'lajesfy Don Alfonso XIII., King of Spain', of (iastile, of Leon,“ of Aragon, of the two Sicilics, of Jerusa- lem, of Navarre, of Gibraltar, of the \Vcstcrn and /I3astcrn Indies, of the Oceanic continent, Archduke of Austria, Duke of Burgundy, of Brabant and Mi- lan, Count of Hapsburg. of.l"landers, of the Tyrol, and Grand Master of the Golden Fleece. This is not really all, but it is a good deal to live up to, even for a king. ' â€"â€"â€"â€"-+ \viiuunss mischief-iv ovanmuo, \ . Comparison of overland and oversea jransndssion of. wireless messages has shown that the surface of the ground exercises an important influence upon the propagation of long clcctro-magnu. tic waves. Recent experiments by .l, s, Sachs in Germany demonstrate that. the earth‘s surface is strongly absorbent and weakly reflective for waves of SI meters in length. [lcconclut‘lcs that both senders and receivers for over- land transmission should be instituted rather than connected with earth. It. ‘s desirable to install the apparatus as high above he ground as possible. ._.__._+_._,_,__. cht-r judge a man’s feet by the slip-. pcrs his wife makes for him. The art of cross-exam!!!lulion is I!) got! the truth out of a \vitneis, even though the truth is not in him. ~ {Grand Prize feiiipetition â€"v | A FOUR-YEAR UNIVERSITY counsE, , A TRIP naauun THE wean). ‘ _or $1,000 IH ODLD. In addition to these prizes there a re A cash commission will be given on ova (or his or her work. THE BUSY MAN'S MAGAZINE {tom the best that appears in the leading the proprietors of The Canadian Grocer, I srdwaro and metal. (7.1m Dry Goods Review and other succa ï¬tting to his friends. “THE BUSY MAN'S MAGAZ A choice of which we offer to the individual securing the largest. number of subscriptions during 1906 t.) l "the. Easy lilaii's Magazine iminyotheis. Every competitor can win (in. ry subscription taken, ovary one being paid is unlike any other, its cantons: :« re A careful detection Ultllt'tbtlrï¬llï¬l'f the “will, [2 is published by an Machinery, 'I'ha ' ' istul paperyâ€"and who are t':ui.'ut,1'sleiu‘ling publishers. Subscriptions are notdiard to securewa bank clerk in Ontario 2 out; :3 in one week by INE is the best. [have ever hid the pleasure of reading." S. W. \vav, Editor Yorktnn Enterprise. Send postal for particulars of Com may be a. glorious change in your career? THE MaoLEaN PUBLISHING 00., Limited, titinii to our neared ofï¬ce. DO IT NOW. It. Montreal, Toronto, Wliiriidag, or London, Eng- I Mm _..?_.. ~g|