W+++++H++++++++++ +++++4 ++++++++++++++++ A SHADOWED PATHS @®@@@@©@ 01', The Curse Of The Family ++ +++++++++++H+++++++ 'ul 3H++++++++++++++++++H +++++++++¢+++++++++H+ CHAPTER XXI. Time, which has a way of lmpmvmg the for-trims of some people. and of mak {Lg mutlcrs Worse with olhrrs, had been kind enough to perform the latter ope.alion for Judith Mazinglord dur ng the time which succeeded her srslers death. When, after a year of dismal travel, however, she returned to England, with her body invigorated, and mind rest r- ed to most of its former powers, Ju- dith put out her canvas on another tack. It secmcd as impossible for wife and husband to agree. as for a cat and dog do meet without a sparâ€"but she usually 3th the best of it; for if physical slrenglh Hand worldly advantages were on hrs sideâ€"moral courage and mental super- iority were on hers. “I do not care what you say." she mnce exclaimed; “I do not care what you doâ€"you might as welt talk of hurt- mm a corpse as of touching me. You 'lhave destroyed my vulnerable point, Mr. Mazingfo-rdâ€"flnd another it you can." And- he did try, but he could notâ€" ,lhe had lost the only hold over her he -'cver possessed; and she laughed his 'vthrcats and anger to scorn. "I will never do anything again that you wish, it it be possible for me to 'mvoid it," she declare â€""ncver, so help me Heaven." And she dild not. He ave up his house in town, and shift his head-quarters to Wales, a home which seemed to Judith a degree more unend‘urabte than London; for, in th: metropolis, there was somelhing to distract her mind from the subject of her own misfortunes, but all Wavour ‘Hall, the great spirit sank under the weight of its utter lonelinessâ€"her heart preyed on itselfâ€"she thought till she was weary, and she cried till. she was sick. And. besides. once arrived in Wales, her husband managed to provide. a new source of irritation for herâ€"a sight of her brother Stephen. with whom there had been no intercourse for years previ- ously, in consequence of Mr. Mazingâ€" lord‘s having forgotten to fulfil his promise and remove the mortgage doeed off the firs, and weedsâ€"and brambles, and ruins, of Llandyt IHatL Stephen never forgave the member; but he proved cleverer than Mr. Maz- izngford had ever given him credtt for beingâ€"and as thoroughly baulked- his brother-inâ€"l-aw of the property he want- ed to secure, as though he likewise had been born and bred a pettifoggtng at- torney. He borr‘iwed money, to pay Mr. Maz- tngfurd. from a capitalist. who shared the young man's belief, that if the mem- ber had not thought there were coal on the estate, he never wauld have advanc- ed money on it to Mr. Renelleâ€"employ- ed a lawyer to take both principal and interest to the estimable proprietor of Wavour Haltâ€"got thoroughly practical men down from London, abandoned the shafts his father had sunk at another's promptingâ€"bored in more promising and likely situations; and ï¬nally, to his infinite triumph, came on the black dia- monds, and commenced ooinin g them in- rk gold. Thin Mazingfdd made overturv of friendship to him. which Stephen or» copied, to the end that he might vex his buot-herdn-law, by iasz‘ng of the mines, and the wealth likely to accrue from them; and Judith, whom the conversa- tion between the two made heartsick, turned, with perfect loathing, from the memories. and the miseries her brother's presumed conjured up before her. “Sldphen, I hate you,†she said at dust, “and I wish you would go." “I never asked you to love me,†he replied; “and I won’t go till it. suits my convenience;" and accordingly he re- mained, until he and: Mr. Mazingford quarrelled again, when he went away back to his mines, leaving matters at \Vavour Hall a degree worse than he had found them. ‘You know I wished you joy of your bargain," were his farewell words to his brother-in-law; “and, with a “Good- bye Judithâ€"I am glad you are so hap- pv married!" he departed. laughing like a find over his sister‘s misfortunzs. Then came the dreary November days, will the rain >treaming down, and the sky dark, and the earth damp, and the prospect gloomyâ€"then C-tlIIlc in'ense 'lcnellnc:\<, perfect isolation and retire- mentâ€"and, almost in despair. Judith flew to her pen again, and worked, for weeks and weeks together, at a novel, and out. of the fumes of sorrow came “the ripeness of geniusâ€"and at lenglh, tthe hand fell. its power. and the imag- ination its intensity, and the labor of compositon ceased to be a toll, and the words flowed vastly from the pen. So she whiled away the dreary winter daysâ€"and at length the anniversary of Lillian's death came round. It was a day Judith always kept sac- red; wh.n the intrusion of vis'iors sesm- or. a pmf-utalion; when she shut herself up all alone wilh God and hr own thoughts, and lacked over the roch shc still pss 0 soil of lhe dead: turned out Lb» cont. n s of a drawer which size Dover opened at any wim- timc, and n l wiped the (lamp off the long, fair tress. and kissed the leaves of the nose. she had tiled off her sister's breast, when 5hr lay slumu-did in her coffinâ€"opened the old Bible and read all the passages marked in pcncxlâ€"hclli the much-worn Pnayer-look in her hand, and ruined bitter tears over all. Lillian herself was never absent from her thoughts; but she did not dam to trust. herself often with a sigh of these tangible mementocs of the dead. I “They would unfit me for the ordinâ€" ary duties of life.‘ she said, mentally; and she was right. In the morning Judith sent down a message «to her guests that she should be unable to leave her own apartments during the course of the dayâ€"~and m the bustle of driving, riding, laughing, and talking, her absence was little no- ticed, until dinner-time, with her vacant chair at the head of the table attracted Mr. Mazingford's attention, and turn- ing to a servant he demanded where his mistress was. “Mrs. Mazingford has not been down- stairs toâ€"day, I believe, sir," was the reply. “Is she ill?" "I do not know, sir," answered the man. All at once it flashed upon the mem- ber's memory that this was a day his wife loved to set apart as a sacred and peculiar season, and indignant that she should dare to permit her own private feelings to interfere with his pubhc m- loresls, as he called her appearance. on all possible occasions, in all possible places, he muttered a hasty apology to his friends, and leaving the dinner-table, to ascertain, so he said, if Mrs. Mazng- ford were ill. he hurried to her own especial sitting-mom. where. flildmgthe door locked, he demanded admittance. “What do you want?†asked Judith, u nin it for him. opfl'ou%’ he answered; “come down to dinner at once.†r “Not today." she pleaded; you can do very well without me; and I like to be alone with her memory." “Alone with the devil!" responded her rulsband. “Put away this trash," pomt- ing to the relics previously referred to; “or, better still, put the whole lot. in the fire, and dress as fast as you can. Dont hesitate, for I tell you I am not going to stand any more of your cursed son- timcntal nonsense. I am out of pati- ence both with you and with it. I don t intend to have you sitting here for days as you have done reading and SCI‘Ib- bun-g, cramming your head with poetry and a parcel of such damned folly. I swear byâ€"" “Lewis, I wish you would. not swear so here," interposed Judith, nervously. “It makes me foclâ€"feelâ€"â€"" She looked hurriedly around the room, and, l'y way of a finish, burst into tears. “Come, no more of this infernal non- sense," he exclaimed. “1 th nk no man ever was so tormented as I am. Go (and dress yourself Mrs. Mazingford,†he added, angrily, “and- come down as quickly as possible. You had better not refuse." he said. “or I will make you repent it.†“You could not," she answered. The words had barely passed her lips before every one of the relics were toss- ed relentlessly into the fire. With a shriek Judith sprung forward to rescue some one articleâ€"ocme single mrmcnlo â€"and plunging her hand absolutely through the flame, she plucked out a volume, and, quick as thought. extingu- ished the blaze, by wrapping it in the skirt of her thick black dress. “Give me that,’ he cricd. “I will not." And as the smrll of the burnt lock of hair. and faint perfume of the rose, and bright glare of the tire told her all else had perished, she grasp- ed the book with a lighter hold, and strove to save it from him. In vainâ€"he wrenchcd it from thr with his strong hand, and flung it once again into the flame, at the some time forcibly Drchnt-lng her from rescuing it. After the first struggle she remained (Illiet- “ll she saw it was all consum- ed Then she hissed out the words:â€" "YOU have burned a Bible, and I am 87m. (01‘ I will inform against youâ€"I will, so sure as I am Judith Mazfngford," “For which very reason. pretty one, your testimony would be perfectly valueless. A wife cannot be a witness, false or true, against her husband. So much for that!" 'he ï¬nished, with a Sm‘cr. “And now dress and come down to dinner, for I won‘t. stand any more airs or nonsense. I should advise you npl to cross 'me again.’1 "VOW wcil,“ she answered. suli~nly. “only PM me of your presence. and I “3†d0 35 YOU dtNSfl‘eC' and'she wa de, us she spoke, towards her dreaming. “70m. and. ringng for her maid, w.nt through the duties of her 1011,.th as llmuch nothing had happened. He had raisd a d<‘\'l1 in her again- a devil none the less: dangerous 1) Cillisc it was a silent one; and having made up 2 ill-u; Il-JI‘ mind to adopt a certain Course ulâ€"E l'.l a thick travelling shawl. to tie up rcr timatl)‘. she could Llffuld to be quiet, and obey him in the tilt:l‘l':!x. Almnst bifot‘e .\Ir. .\I.lz ngford could have imagined it possiva f)r her to change her dl(\§, she entered the din- ing-room, arrayed in a deep mourning robe. with her hair simply arranged. ed the back staircase, opened and only a few jet ornununls rclcvng her sombre costume. He looked nngrdy at h‘r style of loi- lette. but sh‘ smered him down. With her pale face and commamiing presence and wonderful brauty, she had the ad- vantage over him then, mid strong in herself and her determination. she t 0k her Scat wi.h a feeling almost of joy tlu‘obbng at her huurt. .\l lust .»l.c had Tfl‘ltl-i‘ up lzcr ‘lllllldrâ€"‘fllltl she. was frvcl A gontk‘man. on her right, bond she was letl« 1‘. “Thank you." she raidpin a clear though quiet. four, “I have never been ill. The reason L nbsrniod rnys If from your circ‘c was. that this is the anni- vol‘sary of the death of my only ,i~lcr, who «lied under peculiarly melancho‘y circumstances." She was a model wife and a model hrst s»- thnt n'gbt, until all the culsivlc v si‘ors had driven off, and all tho in‘ SCI: ones retired to rest: then. closing the door of the drawing-roun, contain- ing the quaint chairs and dark tables, sh. said to Mr. ltinzlngf‘n‘d: “I want to speak to you." “And I have much to say to you, ma- dam," hc retorti'dâ€"“but I am too angry to say it tonight; you had better go away, and not commence talking to me now." “I had l‘etter not go awayâ€"and I will talk to you," she replied. “I can put what I want to say into a single sen- tence. We are wretched together; we shall never agree. In Heaven’s name, then. let us separate." “You have been driving at this for two years; but I will never agree to any arrangement of the kind. Make up your mind to that.†‘But is not the life we are loading a sort of hell upon earth?" she. asked, put- ting a force of constraint. upon her ut- terance, which gave it a thrilling in- unslity. “Are we not more wretched than man and woman ever were before â€"would not anything be better than the?" “If you like to make your own life wretched it is nothing to me," he anâ€" swxvred. “Do what I drslrc, in a proper manner, and. we shall get on well enough. If you would remember, once for all, that I am master, and will be obeyed, you would make yourself, and eVCI‘y one else, a vast deal moral-comfor- table than is the case at presenl. Put the idea of separation out of your mind altogether; recollect I have said it shall never beâ€"and, above all, ncvcr dare to cross me again as you have crossed me this day; for if you do, I will. bring you to your senses by bougher means than any I have hitherto cmp‘oyed." “Fool!†said Mrs. Mazingfcrd, and she dropped the word out from belwven her lips with an accent of such .ineffablo contempt, that Mr. aniugford’s blood boiled within him. “You think I am afraid of violenceâ€"that I am afraid of youâ€"that I am afraid of anything on earth. I showed you once before," she continued, more vehemently, “what I could do when I would. I warned you then not to refuse me the money, and I warn you now not lo Defuse me a separation; I want no annual allowance â€"l want no annuity, no sum in hand, no anythingâ€"I only want leave to go in poace. Will you grant it?†“If you ever ask for it againâ€"" he beganâ€" “Well,†she demanded. “I will make you wish you had never been torn," he said, fiercely. “That would be nothing now," she retort-ed; then she added, as if debating the. question with herself, “I wonder, Lewis Mazingford, I have never killed you." “And I wonder I have never killed you," he returned, growing absolutely pale at the idea that possibly at some future time she might take it into her head to end mat'ers by such a process. “I dare say you would, long ago," was her replyâ€"“had you not been afraid of being hungâ€"for you are a coward as well as a tyrant. Don’t strike me,†she exclaimed, as he raised his hand threat- cningly. “Don't do itâ€"for I will arouse the household with my shrieksâ€"and in- form society that Mr. Mazingford, of Wuvour Hall, is in lhe habit of beating h‘s wife." With a coarse oath he sprang towards her; and with one hand covering her mouth ho wound the other through her hair, and shook her by it. till he was perfectly exhausted. When, at last. he flung her from him, his hand was full of dark hair, torn literally out by the rootsâ€"and thoroughly unnerved by the pain he had inflicted, Judith sank on a srfa. conquered, for once in her life, by bodiLy suffering. “There,†he said. as he rolled the trophy of his manly conquest up, and flung it, on the fireâ€"“never anger me again, for I will not be browlx‘atcn by any woman under heaven. much less by one whom I raised from a station little lretter than of a beggar. Name set aialion aga’n to me if you dare.†“I dare do anything, but I will never mm» it aga'n,†she answered, in a low htsky voice. “Still, rrmzrmbcr, Mr. Muzingfordâ€"and these one my last minds on the subject to youâ€"that any evil coho-quenccs which may ensue from your I‘rlllsul will rest on yourself." And, without waiting for a reply, she pick- et up her comb, which had fallen on the floor, and walkoi out of the room, away to her own destitute Chamber, That night her bond never rested on a pill ,\v. It did not take her an Imur to pull the flounccs oil a black dress. to put a pie-JG of rilb n plainly acres: on old garden bonnetâ€"lo twllrcl all 111- jewels which had been given to her by luv various flucnts. on lb“ oicusion of her mast 0110.1 murrIuL'e: to wrajr has It nos. Zni' ortunt n.anus:r.: ts. 1.1M burn the rest. \\'1i.h a wild :Illi‘af'0l1.0.~h~? luxzr'cd on tl.c lurcl‘orutf-ins for depar- iuz'cpâ€"imrli-rnol by no luggage sly.) one LUVdI-z \\'.!h curls b: itSlud will. uni hair , plainly bradxxt. she v.-zlut."llsly' dc;c;1:d« a glass d ‘or leadngr out into the garden, and unmindful of wind and rain, .«allml [ll‘ih in the durkn-ss, and ran on till she was fairly out .f breath. She felt no four of nighl-shc did not for.) for the yillss pcllinglf the :l‘ll'nl that wet her through and through: >llt‘ was l. nvingr all size hated and thchth all «'1th behind her, and in the. wild (ballrious joy of «st-ape, fol-git, ovrvy danger. (~\'«'I')‘ risk. (jirossing the. drive she t'nlA‘JY‘tl tho plantations, and puisu~ in, a narrow pull]. with the windings of whi-h she was \wll acquainted. she ut las'. IOiiClle a stile that condu-clml her into the Churchyard of \an un'. 'l‘h-uc. among the long wot gt a»: and m-lulllvring ll(‘ll<l.\lvllll‘r', sir slipped for m. ins-ant i.) think. mm], as she did .~'u. the rumbling of distant. wluols indis- iznl'lly hoard (luring lhv‘ pauses of the tum; o~t, real-h «i ler . or. “I‘ll-alts the night moi," sh! muttered: “l will go ill it," and groping her way over the. gruves and mounds lo the churchyard gale, shc to k her s'and by the roadside. and as the lights came blinking up oh so: to the spot she occu- p’ed. called out for the coaclmznu to Stï¬p. “Whom do you want to- go to?†be de- miuidd. pulling up. “Inllldflll,†‘vvas the reply. “All right," said the guard. mam!" “Hang ill" cxclaim-“d the coach-man, “don’t bring a woman outside a night like this." a “NOW! (To be Continuzd.) gttnul the Farm; ‘. li++++++++++++++++++++¢ _ urracr or srmvmo POTATOES. Professor Winter of the University allege of North Wales has been con- ducting a number of experiments for the past four years to determine, if pos- sible, the effect of spraying potatoes. Last. year's results clearly indicated that considerable benefit has been derived by spraying with sulphate of Copper solution. The dressing used consisted of 2/» pounds sulphate of copper, 30 pound of pure washing soda, 120 gal- lons of water. Summarizing the results, it is scan that the aver-21 ge weight per acre from marketing potatoes spraycd on both sides of the leaf was 8 ions 3 cwts. 60 pr U'nlds; sprayed on the upper she only, '7 lens 15 cwls. 2 pounds, and unspray- ea, 5 ions 16 cwls. 10/; pounds. There is thus an average increase favorable to spraying on both sides of lhe lcaf over the unsprayed plots of 2 lens 6 cwts. 63 pounds. Contrasting the figure-s ever the last. three years the favorable result is still further emphasized. on (och. occasion there being an increase varying from 16 cwts. 96 pounds to 2 tons G owls, 68 pounds, that is. to say, in favor of spraying on both sides of the leaf. In small potato-cs there is ra- ther more weight. on the un:prnyed plots than on the sprayed, white the number of disease tubers is rather less than after the sulphate of copper solu- tion has been. used. If we take the av- erage over the last seven years of the increase due to spraying it is evident that this operation has a very beneï¬cial effect upon the growth. Indeed that seems to be quite as marked a feature of the result of using the solution as the decrease in the number of disease tub- ers. No doubt this suggested a comâ€" parison with sprayed old homo-gnown tubers used for seed with the tubers drawn from another locality. The old seed, however, although sh twing an in- crease on all the sprayed plots cvd‘ the unspraycd was much mo;e unoffectivc in the production of heavy crops than new seed, either sprayed or unspray-cd, to the extent in some cases of rather over a half to about thmequarlers the weight of crop. The we‘ght of disease tubers was in all cases much less where the spruy'ng was carried through. It is concluded, therefore, that tho blst re- sults are to be obtained by growing a mop from new seed and afterwards spraying it. Below we give directions for spraying:â€" The following for one. acre. 24 pounds sulphate of copper (98 per cent. pure). 30 pounis washing soda. 120 gallons of water. Washing soda is recommended in pre- ference to lime. As in practice it will usually be dif- ficult to dissolve the above quantity at one operation, we would suggest that the mixture should be prepared in a wooden vessel which will hold 25 gal- lons of water. First wash out this vessel thorough- ‘.y and pour inlo it 15 gallons of clean water; then take 4 pounds of sluphate cf copper lulkcn lo a fine powder; place it in a canvas toy and stir it aboul in the water until the sulphate of copper is dissolvcvl. .\'<‘xt dissdve 5 pounds of. washing Sn'dll in ï¬ve gallons of wot-er ii. a separn'e tub. then pour the wash- ing 511a solution into the sulphate of caper solution and stir well. The nilxllr‘C should th:-n be tested with blur. litmus payer; if the litmus is mind rul n;o:e washing said :houid lo d.~sxlved and stealtly Udde until from limus paper put into the solulL n re- :1 :1an blue. The quantity of nmlenai lh'is pic-jur- (d is sulllrk nt f‘ r ozic-<'xt.i f .'lll nu‘c. .\s the n 54% < «if spraying tumult-6 ml.- (asi'y ch kml. llxw Ill:.\:lll‘~‘ >11 ull dressing is sufï¬cient to round JIIL; the !i.li.‘li.ll"‘ lluw ugh a cunva~ PHIL. Srayng :l: url l‘r- Jone unlit ‘ho (ml of Juin‘ 1r iognning of July, and ago-Ln in ab ut tine: “Woks. ‘ t5"? 11109-051 :5 1; “I don‘t want to know.’ ~â€" OUR FE.‘\THERED FRIENDS. Deal sparineg wrui condition pow- lie/rs, They will not hpr a hen to make som-‘thmg out of nothing. It tlm’ pay five dollars for one hon that will lay eggs than one dollar for live that do nolhng but cut lhcir heads off. II'co lyre-d lust in hot weather. Spray llu luums uvvry few days \v.th sunn- lhlllf.’ that will will: With the post. If you have nutlrng boiler. kerosene Oil will do it. Dwe it right on. and dont [Jr-gel. the nu tor skins of the ruosis. If you have u ‘lllal’l 1le0 tile \\'-.ll'li [01‘ you. see to it that that man does his work to watch the man than il is i.) do work to watch the man lhum it is to do an cry strle of work yourself. ._ .\ hen that is in poor flesh cannot. do mmh for you. She is too busy (Icing: businms for herself; you will have wal till she gets up in good illsh. Then; 3110 can afford to think of you. Bright red combs are a sure sign of health in fowls. Shun a hen with a. pale, drooping,r romb. Do not hi my one [col you int-i buy- ing a hen that is old just by saying: “‘llut she lays all right." She may do that a few weka and then some morn- :ng you will ï¬nd her “laying under the must. Krep hens that lay and. lhcso that do not in svlparate houses as far as possible. They need different feeding, and: this you cannot give them if they are run- "ning in the same house. . There is not much fat in roots‘, and still they form an important part, of a weild alanced ration. They help lo‘kecp the hens: healthy. So plan to have some for use next winter. l, Have you skimmed milk for your hens? If not perhaps you can buy same. It will pay you well to do it if you cyan. OLD AGE AND THE ARTERIES. ‘ French Physician Seeks to Upset a Theory Commonly [left]. For a. long time now the books have pul down arteriosclerosis, or hardening of the walls of the arteries, as a ma ady of old age. indced the mal-aldy of old age. A book published only the other (nay by a physician of long stand‘ng on haw to attain old age contained the same familiar declarations. It has even teen said that hardening of the arteries is what causes old agf, and that if the arteries could be prevented from hardening. old [age could be baf- il ct, deferred. put off indefinitely. Now M. Lancereaux has told the French Academy of Medicine that this is not so. He finds arterio-scier. s's ra- ther in the young than in the old, and says that it is less harmful in the old than in the younger, and that the way to cure it is to begin early with young persons predisposed to it through here- dity. much as one should do to cure young girls inclined to hysteria. “Arlene-sclerosis is not a disease of old age," said M. Lancercaux, “butt of middle age. It does not appear after the sixtieth or sixty-ï¬fth year. or at tiny rate undergoes a period of abatemént then wh'ch ï¬nders it less- dangero'usl, “The disease is not rare among adults, even between 20 and- 30. It is mor frequent among those between 30 and 40 But it is between 50 and 60 that it is most prevalent, and in such cases most often brings death between 50 and 65. “Its development is more rapid among young persons 'than in the aged, and. when occurring in the aged it is the less formidable." . M. Lancereaux attacked another the- ory when he declared that, contrary to the general belief among Ihe doctors, artcriosclerosis was not commonly due to prolonng indulgence in alcoholic drinks, no more was it due to abuse of tobacco. The prowa offered that it came from those causes, he said. were wholly insufficient. It either was poisoning through too much meat in the diet ac- countable for th: affection, n'r was ali- mentary excess. According to M. Lanccreaux gouty in- flammation is most often the Cause of the malady. In treatment it was nec- cssary to attack the initial phenomena as shown in nervous disorder. >I< THE LARGEST RESTAURANT. New York is to have the largest res- taurant in the world, seeing-8.000 pro- plc. fl, is to be built on Broadway, anJ $000,000 has already Icon sub:crlbcd by the synd'catc. The rcof garden. with real tires and turf. a fountain. and a 50- fcot lake, will le :1 reproduction in min'nlure of lhe famous gold ns (f the Triann at Versailles. The rcstaurant Dl"=pt*1‘ will occupy the entire grund floor of the building. It will be 200 fmt long, and will seat comfortably 4.000 pmpl-c, while the roof garden is to ac- cilmmodnte a similar numbcr. ONE ON THE DENTIST. “Ouch!†bluriml the busy dentist, m. he injur. c1, his Lani with one. of his in- stl IIlllCillS. “Ila, ha!" laughed the. old farmer in the chair. “That's {.0 (1!" The dvntls‘. was furious. “I don‘t are anything to laugh at," be snapped. “I am in pain.†“And that's why I am laughzng. Thought you was one of those here ‘paintss drnilstsf mister." KIODBS'I'Y. “.\hl my Live." sighed the ardent lav r. “f y u only know how b'autiful van are!" "You mus‘n't speak (f it." protested “\\‘hy noli‘“ thCCIUSQ.†sh.“ sad. “it would make; nu fz-o crlnceit d." ' It like: a lawyer to draw a will so lint he (an get something out of the ï¬ght over it later.