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drunk with love or wine, he is very dangm'ous. You must stay with me to- want The girl led the lady to the same ca- vern chamber where she had before slept. and than said. “Listen to me.‘ Satan is not himself Bo-night. Satan is in love. That is a more fatal intoxicalion than any pm duced by wine: and when the devil is drunk with love or wine. he is verv Poor Sybil! In her infnlualjon she smiled upon lhe brignnd. wilh a look that deprived him of the last. remnant of reason. and then she followed her cfxnduclor from the room. "Sée yotir {mean to her apartments and serve her royally." The toast was honored by full glasses and loud cheers. And none filled higher or cheered louder than the giant Mo- loch, who now felt himself secure from the captain's vengeance by virtue of the general proclamation of amnesty. The long-protracted feast came to an[ end at last. l The robber captain was not an im- petuous brute like the giant Moloch. He was a refined and cultivated being. who could bide his time, and enjoy hisl happiness by anticipation. 1 So at the end or the supper, seeing; that. his guest was very weary, he signed l to the girl to rise. And then he took} the lady's hand. pressed it most respect- fully to his lips, and placed it in that (.f the girl. saying: “Fill high your glasses, men! Let us drink to the health of our new sover- eign. Delhroned and outcast by the law‘ we will enlhrone her and crown her the Queen of Outlaws! Fill to the brim with this best of wine. And mind, this cup is a pledge of amnesty to all offenders, of union among ourselves, and of devotion to our queen!" No; the voice of her guardian angel was silent; and the beautiful, honor- able lady continued to smile on the rob- ber captain, until his head was turned. Near the conclusion of ihe feast. he filled a goblet to the brim with wine, and rising in his place. said: Poor Sybil ! if she was rather ignorant of books (for a gentleman‘s daughter), she was still more ignorant of man- kind. She might have learned something from the case of Rosa Blondelle, but she did not. And now no guardian spirit whispered to her: “You saw how the blandishments of a beauty affected even your own true- hearled husband; and yet, with the best intentions, you are using the same sort of blandlshments upon a brigzmd. What can you expect but evil 7" cale morsels of the Viands before him. Sybil, though in deadly fear of her gentlemaniy attendant accepted every one of his attentions with a smile. She Imew, poor child, to whom she was now obliged to pay court. Her one idea was her husband; her one want, to be re- united to him, at all risks or costs to liberty or life; and she knew that this man' the autocrat, as well as the cap- tain of his band, had the power to re- store her to her husband. and so she exerted all her powers of pleasing to win his favor. VJ‘Come here, princess!” he said, dressing the girl. “come here and [ yourself on the other side of this 1 If you are princess, she is queen." rm” 4-. The girl irhméfiiéiélgléfi;e goun-d and sealed herself. And the master of the house helped his guests to the most deli- cale morsels 0f the vianrh horn", Mm But the with the guest. ‘ “I could a" Vtold E if you meddled m" Now look out." . ,.._ W... .W ..u......5. “Wm. .3be1. “What name does more ‘2" inquired the stranger; and, then, without expect- ing SJ} answer, he turned to Moloch and said m his smoothest tones: “Be so good as to give me this seat. au‘n 1' sir “Yes, Death! I told you, Spirit. that Death and Fire were often allies! But now. as we are no longer masquer- ading. permit me, Mrs. Beniers, to prev sent myself to you as Captain Inconnu," go said, with another and a deeper ow. N “flrlmt name tells me nothing." replied While the walls of the cavern seemed wheeling around Sybil. the robber cap- tain calmly came up to her, lifted his hat. and said: “Spirit of Fire. I am happy to welcome you to your own appropriate dwelling- place. Behold 2” And he waved his hat. around toward the stalactile walls and ceiling of the cavern, now burning, Sparkling, blaz- ing, in the reflected light of the candles. “Death 1” uttered Sybil, wider her sus- pended breaih. +9WWOW+O+O¢OWW But Sybil saw WOWWWWWWWW addled wi' the captain‘s gal! out." "captain" conducted himself greatest courtesy toward his CHAPTE r seated himself. told _y0u whatquq'd get 0R, SYBIL BERNER’S VINDXCATION said, ad- and place this Andy. “Certainly,” said Sybil, immediately following the advice of her hostess. who with nimble fingers began to help her to dress. “My uncestress. Gentiliska, was the daughter of a long line of gypsy kings. On the death of her father, she became the queen of the tribe." “Her father had no sons ?" “Oh, yes, he had. But his daughter was made queen I don't know why. She was very beautiful. and she sang and danced as charmingly as that beau- tiful Jewish princess. who danced of! the head of holy John the Baptist. She was an astute reader of human nature, and, therefore. a successful fortuneâ€" teller. She always promised love to youth, money to the mature. and long life to the aged. One day at the races She told the fortune of a. rich young man. in return for which he made hers." “How ?" “He married her." “He did really marry her? You are sure? “Oh bother. no. I wish it was. That was the name of the great family who once owned 331 this great manor, which went to wreck and ruin for want of an heirlâ€"oh. no; my name is Dewberryâ€" the little fruit vine, you know, that runs along the ground. and takes its name from its cool berries being always found deep in the dew. Besides, I am English, and descended through my meat-grand- mother Gentiiiska from the English gypsics. She was a gypsy queen." “Gentilisko,” said Sybil, “tell me something about your great-gland- mother. I feel interested in all that concerns gypsies." “Well, but get up and dress for break- fast. I can talk while you are making your toilet." "But you have another nameâ€"a fam- ily name 1" “Oh‘ to be sure; mose people have." “Woqu youâ€"would you tell it to me 7" inquired Sybil, hesitatingly. The girl looked at her quizzingly. “Believe me, I do not ask from idle curiosity," added Sybil. “Oh, no; to be sure not. We are not a bit curiousâ€"we 1" “You needn't tell me," said Sybil. “Oh, but I will. My famin name? It is not a very noble one. It is indeed a very humble oneâ€"Dewberry." “Dubarryl” exchimed Sy'bil her breath. , Sybil took her advice and soon grew calm, and soon after lost all conscious‘ lness of her troubles in a deep repose, which lasted until morning. The glinting of the sun’s rays through the crevices in the cave, and the spark- ling of the stalactites on the walls, first 'awakened Sybil. She saw that her hos- tess was already up and dressed; but had not left the cave. She was in truth [setting the place in order after her own 'toilet, and laying out fresh towels for gthet of her guest. ’ i "‘How can I be. when I slept so long :to-day, and when l have so much to §occupy my Llioughls besides?" sighed Sybil. “Do you wish to sleep 7" ‘ “Indeed I do; to sleep and forget." I “Here. then," said the girl, taking a {full bag from a corner, and drawing !over it a clean pillowcase. “Here is a 'sack of dried hopâ€"leaves. It is as soft ,as down, and soporitic as opium. Put fthis under your head, and you will find git to be a magic cushion that will con- ivey you at once to the land of Nod." Sybil gasped for breath”; and when she recovered her voice, she exclaimed: “Yes; she had no daughter or grand- daughter, else they also would have been Gentiliskas. She had only a son and a grandson, and her grandson had only me," calmly replied the girl. “Yes, that‘s it! Most of the girls of my race have home it; but my great- grandmother was the last before me.” V “Your great-grandmother ‘I" Sybil, still in a dream. “Iska? Gentiliska? Where have I heard that singular name before?" in- quired Sybil of herself; for in fact so many startling incidents had happened to her lately, that her mind was rather confused. She reflected a moment be- fore she could recall the idea of the Gypsy girl in the legend of the “Haunted Chapel." She turned and gazed at her hostess with renewed interest. A superâ€" stitious thrill ran through her frame. Yes; here were all the points of resem- blance between this strange being and the spectral girl of the story 1 Here were the gypsy features, the long. black elf- locks, the jet-black eyes, and arch eye- brows depressed toward the nose and lifted toward the temple, the elfish exâ€" pression, the manner, the dress, the very name itself I “Why do you look at me so strange- ly ?" inquired the girl. “Gentitiskst” repeated Sybil, as in a dream. “Yels. my name is Gentiliska, but you may call me Iska.” "I have been.with you hours, and yet do not know Will you never tell it to me Sybil wa’wned her time, _and then spoke: “Your eyes are wide open, and as bright. as stars! You are not sleepy at all," said the girl, gazing upon Sybil’s excited face. in silence some twenty-four your name. . catching echoed blood. “And so the old tinker died, and the young tramp. with the heirloom in his possession, set out to seek his fortune. “But he did not go upon the quest alone. Like most, improvident young tramps. he took a male. His wife was my mother. I remember both my parents while they were yet young and hand- some, and very happy despite their poverty. My fatherâ€" But let me stop! Before I go any further, I wish to ask you a question.” “Ask it." "Do you believe that any one may he. come so maddened with causcloss jealousy as to commit a crime?" “I not only believe it, but know it." “Then I will go on. Mv tamer dam husband never tried marriage any more; but he brought up his son to his own tradeâ€"that of a travelling tinker. And when the time came for him to give up the ghost, he placed the casket in the hand of the boy, saying: “Your mother died 0! want rather than let it be sold for a sum that might have saved her life and made her com- fortable; because she said that it was her child's destiny. Keep it and guard it as you would guard your heart’s “And then she died. and the lad, with the casket for his only fortune, left the tribe, and took to the road alone, mend- ing pots and kettles for a living, often suffering hunger and cold, but never, under any stress of poverty, parting with the silver casket.” The girl paused for a moment and then resumed: “But poverty never yet prevented a gypsy from taking a mate. He found one in the daughter of another travel- ling tinker, poorer, if possible, than himself. She lived only long enough to bring him one Child, and then died, it is said. from the hardships of her life." “That was miserable,” sighed Sybil. “It was so miserable that her widowed husband never tried marriage nnv “‘Take it my lad. It was put in my hands by your mother, when she left you udexne. Take fi,then; guard n as the Inost sacred treasure of your lfie; for it may bring you to wealth and hon- or yet.’ “That was a very strange disposition for a gentleman to make of his son.” “It would have been. if he had cured a snap for his son, which he didn’t, as after events proved. The gipsy wife sought out her own grandmother, who was a famous doctress of the tribe. In the heldame's care she left the babe. Then with her husband she slipped away to sea, and neither the one nor the other was ever seen or heard of afterwards. The boy, deserted by his father and his mother, grew up a poor degraded little half-breed among the gypsies, scarcely tolerated by them, but loved and petted by his foster-mother. whose great power in her tribe only sufficed for his protec- tion. When at length the old crone lay upon her deathbed. she called the youth to her side, and placed in his hand the silver casket, saying: “But how was that? Your ancestress married a gentleman 'I" “Yes, she married a gentleman, and her tribe discarded her when she (le- serted them. They would have discarded her all the same if she had married a king who was not of her race. She went abroad with her husband. and visited, I have heard, the four quarters of the globe. She returned after two years. bringing with her a dark infant boy. She was about, to go with her husband on another long, long voyage. He refused to allow her to take her child, but said, for the little lad‘s own sake, he must be left at nurse in Eng- land. The only point she could get him to yield was this, that the child should be left with her tribe until it should be five years old, when they would reclaim it." “Honor certainly, wealth possibly." “Ha ! ha! ha I I don’t see how. Little good for one or the olher it ever did us. My father was a tramp; my grandfather a tinker." “I tell you he not only should have done so. but. he did so. My ancestrcss was no fool. She was married by spe- cial license. I hnve the license in a sil- ver casket. It; was the only heirloom she left her descendants. and they have kept it in the family ever since. They had a notion, I think, that there was wealth or honor hung on to it." laughed the girl. ‘ “Of course he should have done so," sighed Sybil, as the fairy castle she had built for the girl fell like a house of cards. Sparrowâ€"Hal ha! What a funny place for your hat! _ Pouterâ€"Yes, but whenever I put 115 on my head, it falls off. The girl flared up. “He took her abroad with him; and of course he married her." They had‘a was wealth laughed the Ethel (sweetly)â€"cher mind, Albermeamst! He's a real English Bulldog and direct from London. He was formerly owned by the Duke of Clarence, andâ€"â€" It is a little more difficult to control growing chickens than the laying hens, because they really need more exercise. However, early in the season when crops are getting started the chickens are small and must necessarily be con- fined. As they grow older I allow them larger range in the plum orchard, and, finally, after the cereal crops are gath- Another point to be considered in this system of handling hens is the fact. that the eggs are all laid in the coop. Where hens are allowed to room all day, it is a difficult problem to get. all the eggs. The hens steal their nests and the eggs cannot be gathered regularly, and, consequently, cannot be depended upon for private customers. When laid in the coop they are all gathered every day. If one will stop to consider this point, he will see that much is saved from the eggs alone. Many farmers do not receive the highest price for their eggs simply because these are not gathered fresh every night. They find nests full of eggs, some of which have been laid several days and are stale and undesirable for eating. No one can get a fancy price for such. My practice is to keep the hens con- fined to their coops until about 4 p.m., then they are let out to have free range. After crops are well started in the spring, hens that are not allowed to run until this time of day will do little damage. They simply make a business of foraging. realizing that there is little time to get into mischief and they preo- tically have no time for scratching and destroying garden stuff generally. We have pracliced this method of handling form poultry for years and find it en- tirely satisfactory. Â¥++++HH+++++++++++H SUMMER CARE OF lIENS. While it is desirable that hens should have considerable exercise and a chance to get some green forage and insects. etc, in summer, it is not necessary that they be allowed to become a nuisance and have the range of the farm and the garden and destroy more crops than their heads are worth, writes a corres- pondent. It is just as desirable to con- trol hens as it is to control cows or hogs, or any other kind of stock. Neither do I believe in having large runs fenced in for farm poultry. Small yards are all right, but, one can get along, even without small yards. and heep hens healthy and in good condi- ion. “One day he did a cruel murder, and found out when it was too late that he had slain the father of his wife. who, in coming after her at all was only looking to the interests of his poor, uni owned daughter. Ah! a volume might be written on that tragedy; but let it pass! My mother died of grief. But long ere that my father had fled the country, an outlaw and the companion of outlaws. .. “Once his still absorbing love for his wife drew him back to England at the imminent risk of his life. His wife was dead. and his daughter was a little wretched child, knocked about among beggars and tramps, and in extreme danger of that last evilâ€"that last and worst evil that could befallen herâ€"be- ing taken care of by the parish l" “That is a very severe sarcasm." said Sybil, rebukingly. “Is it? If ever you are free again. lady, visit the most destitute homes '11 the world, and then the best a1m3< houses in your reach. and find out for yourself whether it is not better to die a free beggar than to live an imprisoned pauper. The manner in which work- house Charity ‘whips the devil round the slump' by satisfying its conscience without benefiting its object. is one of the funniest jokes, as well as one of the most curious subjects of study that can be found in social life." “I am sorry to go on with your (To be on my motherâ€"just doted on her! But my poor mother had a friend and bene~ factor, of whom my father grew insaneâ€" ly, (uriously. but causelessly jealouS. ++++++++++§++++§++++ film? the Farm; +++++ 4, ’. + + + + t + HANDLING GROWING CHICKENS daughter. Ah! a volume might itien on that tragedy; but let it My mother died of grief. But ere that my father had fled the y, an outlaw and the companion hear you say so; but story." continued). AN ANGLO-MANI.\C In my opinion there is no other feed so good for pigs or so near the same as their mother’s milk. Do not keep hogs in too close buildings, they require venlilation. Almost any kind of house that is dry will do, give plenty of straw for bedding, but change it every ten days. If possible. have something green for them. They will eat almost an! growth; never let them have access ta matured grass. I would not breed a sow in winter« until late so that the pigs would be Ian. rowed about the opening of spring.(' writes Mr. S. R. Hawks. Then with proper feeding one can gain 60 days on- the pigs farmwed in midwinter. Feed‘. the sow lightly on corn and wheat mid- dl‘mgs just enough to keep her strong: and healthy until arrival of pigs. Con- tinue the same feed and inccease slightm ly until she has three times each day what she cares to clean up. Let the in-; crease in feed be largely the middlings. Mix them with water until a very thin,- slop is made. A little corn soaked until soft for the little ones, after they begin to eat, is well. but is more inclined to tatten than to grow. In the meantime feed liberally of the middling: and there will be no check to growth. It is also valuable for ridding poultry and stock houses from lice. always re. membering in using it for this purpose to expose it in shallow vessels located at the topmost parts of the room, giv- ing it a chance to settle. If exposed on the floor the fumes might not reach the top of the room. All animals or poul should be excluded. and lights, also. until the house has been thoroughly- aired. The Government furnishes a. tree bulletin telling of the best ways to use this agent. which is well worth the, trouble of asking for. - Put about a tablespooniul into the mouth of each rat hole in the cellar and close up the entrance tightly with an old bag; do not go near the place for a while, say twelve hours. with a, lighted lamp. The fumes are a sure but painless death when thus confined. This is surer than trapping and more humane than poisoning. We are in no. danger of losing the family out by hav-‘ ing her discover and eat one of the dead; bodies. as has occurred with us three, times in succession. Carbon bisulphide is also the cheapest and best way of rid-4 ding the farm of woodchucks. Close each hole with a big stone or sod. It is, the surest and most popular method vfi ridding seed peas and beans of weevils“ The best method of exterminating rats is by the use of carbon bisqulB‘de. The fumes from this are heavier than air, and thus its tendency is ‘to settle down instead of rising, as do most gases. IL is cheap. angi sa_fe {0 use when Most people make a mistake in not. separating the young pullets, intended for winter layers, from the cockerels and putting them in their winter quar- ters until late in the season. They‘ ought to be separated, surely as early. as September. If they are allowed to run in their summer quarters until“ November and are then put into winterf quarters, my experience is that it tokesi a long time for them to get accustomed! to their winter quarters. They rarely! lay as well as they do when placed int winter quarters earlier, even thought confined more than one would think ad.“ visable. gases. It is cheap, and site to usé its properties are understood. Unless the cockerels are intended toi be sold for breeding purposes, and um: less kept for capons or for roasters.. they should have been sold long before this time. In such cases they can be al- lowed to run until one wishes to put‘ them up for fattening for market. Hens' that have proved unprofitable. and those- that have reached the age limit, should- be disposed of every fall and their: places filled with young pullets. Many people make a mistake in n09 providing enough grit for poultry in the. summer time. They seem to think that as long as young chickens and old hens; run out of doors, even for a porlion of the time, they can help themselves to all the grit necessary. ercd and the early vegetables gone fmm the garden, I simply fence against par- den products like tomatoes and cabbagu which are readily destroyed by chick- ens, then allow the growing chickens a. free range. The pessimist is a misfortune acne]: CARE OF SOWS AND PIGS. VERMTN EXTERMINATOR