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find you- NOW that I have done 50' ' “Dou you ’I” retorted Judith; however, I am determmed you shall “well under the circumstances, that remain here”. . may be regarded as a blessing! The Proud 1'? C‘U'IEd “#11 509"]: Considering the past, too!” she ad- and then assumGd 1? P3011113? smile ; l tiedâ€"“Merciful Providenceâ€"consid- {he precise meaning. and .causel fling the past [" “whereof, Mr..Mazmgford did not She Stood for a moment gazing 0870 1’0 enqml‘e concernmg- He with her outward eye into the blaz- waited for a. momentpr two, to _af- ing fire; and as she did so, the 01d fcrd her an OPPOI‘WmW 0f replying fixed look departed from her face, to his observation, but she remained and She commenced gnawing her mute. under lip, and striking the fender “NOW ythel‘e 111:8 two “(l-‘25 bylimpatiently with her little foot all WhiCll to accomplish my (“fleetâ€"“l unwittingly. He thought these ex- One *1dVantag901‘5 ‘50 bqthy the Other ' ternal signs of emotion betokened advantflgeous ‘30 “Elmer? , onev : a. struggle going on within her be whereby .VOU may returns If E'Oultwixt fear and pride; but he was .Willv ‘50 the POSition 5'0“ f01‘11191:1y mistakenâ€"it was the past she was -held here as my wife. and the nns- cunsidering. not the present. tress 0f \VIWOUI‘ H3“ â€" 500th” “Then. if I understand you right- which. irksome and unpleasant asqv.” She said‘ abruptly‘ turning to- it Will be for n18, calm“ fail tOlwards her husbandâ€"“In the one prove twentytimes more 30 to )‘011- case I shall be subjected once again The (‘h0i09. howeVGI‘, “95 entirely to the old humiliations; guests will with 5'011rself,â€"as ~vou desire, so Ii be requested to stare once again at will 80t- I Will giVe 3'0“ ten min‘lthe beauty of the woman you house: utes for reflection before qullil‘lnggostensibly with a. price. hut never a definitive answer.” {vet have paid for. I shall have to She never 01106 l‘emOVf‘d hel‘ 931‘s? 'cunverse to show how clever I am: from his face during the (leli\‘e1~5’jt.. sing to prove what a. magnificent of the foregoing sentence; and, I voice Mrs. Mazingford has; to pla_v,l 00nseqllent13‘a When he raised hislthat connoisseurs may pronounce} head at its conclusion, he met the'hel- the finest private performer‘ 016 fixed 100k, “’hiCh seemed; When they ever heard; to sketch. that the- once it settled on his wife’s eounten- crooked old chimneys and pointed‘ “Now ,there are two ways by which to accomplish my objectâ€" one advantageous to both, the other advantageous to neither; one. whereby you may return, if you Still. to the position you formerly ;held here as my wife. and the mis- tress of Wavour Hallâ€"another which. irksome and unpleasant as it will be for me, cannot fail to prove twenty times more so to you. The choice. however, lies entirely \Vitll yourselfâ€"as ~vou desire, so I will act. I will give you ten min- utes for reflection before requiring a definitive answer.” She never once removed her eyes from his face during the delivery of the foregoing sentence; and, consequently, when he_ raised his “It has cost me much trouble to find you. Now that I have done so. however, I am determined you shall remain here.” The proud lip curled with scorn, and then assumed a peculiar smile; ihe precise meaning, and cause whereof, Mr. aningford did not care to enquire concerning. He waited for a. moment or two. to af~ ford her an opportunity of replying to his observation. but she remained mute. “I can hear you in any position.” she opened her parched lips to an swerâ€"“and I prefer standing.” Time had been when he would have pushed her into a seat by force; but all powerless as she stood. there was a. something about her quiet defiance which restrained him, and waiving that point, he him, V Baldâ€" I' l+ fi+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++H+++++++H¢ CHAPTER XXIV, A iance, to be asuimqlov‘aple and un: ;+ 7+ 1+ When Judith Mazingford au‘oke to the consciousness that through the dusk of a winter’s afternoon she was driving along a dreary country road, with the rain heat- ing against the windows of the ve- hicle, she understood and remem- bered everything in a moment. She was travelling home with her hus- band; the consummation so long dreaded had come at last. The dreadful blow, so long dreaded and cautiously guarded against, had de- scended on her head at last. The dark silky lashes rested again on the palid cheek, but from that time forth her senses never deserted her. The pursuer, whose clutch she had evaded for two struggling years, had come up with her at length ; and the frightful shock of that meeting â€"of that voice in her ear~of that strong, rude hand on her arm, co ld never terrify her more. The w 'st! after fleeing from it long, it d overtaken her, and she must ace it now. And ere the last streak ?f light disappeared from the west- ern sky, Judith beheld the gables and chimneys of Wavour Hall, ris~ ing to view in the distance. “Sit down,” he repented, follow~ ing her movements, and this time pointing to one of the antiquarian chairs, the envy of connoisseurs, and admiration of every one. “Sit down, I have something to say to you.” she had suffered in it, none, save He and she might ever know. Soon after the postilion banged down the steps, and the hall door was flung open. Mr. Mazingford assisted her to alight, drew her arm once again within his, and led her into his house. Judith inclined her head to the various domestics, most of whose faces she recognized as she passed along. Still pulling her on- ward, her husband gave a few gen- eral directions, and hurried through the hall into the scene of so many a bitter humiliation, on to the for mer battle ground, where they had wrangled out many an hour of their wretched married life. There, ap« parently, ended their journey, and the blessed silence which had reign» ed between them, for the moment Mr. Mazingford entered that apart- ment, and closed the door, so shutâ€" ting himself and his wife in, and the world and its hundred-eared listenâ€" ers out, he pointed authoritatively U a chair, and saidâ€" “Sit down. madam.” She walked forward to the hearth, seemingly unconscious of her hus- band’s mandate, whereon. as was the whim of the owner of the man~ sion, 9. fire blazed cheerfully, whc~ ther or not he were at home, ready to welcome any grand visitor. She thanked God when the clouds of night shut out the sight of that place frqm 1191‘ eyes. What ¢++++++H+++++++++++ +++++++¢+++++++§ ++++++ A SHAMWED PATH; Or, The Curse Of The Family raised his he met the nm- 1 the. 1‘ng i ost‘ ! yet eyes 1 can very! Ln : and: I VOL 1 his : tha, the} her “If you like to give me your word, that you will never separate yourself from me again, except with my consentâ€"you shall return to your former position here; I will forgive the past and never allude to it further ; if you decline to make such a promise, I must use a cer~ tain degree of restraint to 'prevent you leaving the house of your only lawful protector. Considering the past, I feel I am now acting in a. most forbearing manner in offering you a. choice in the matter.” Having concluded which sentence Mr. Mazingford plunged his hands into his pockets, and tried to give Judith a broadside of determined looks in return for her unchangeâ€" able glance of indomitable scornâ€" but she beat him down. “You have spoken of our married life as of a. battle ground,” she be- gan, “and I cannot say otherwise than that I admire the truth and aptitude of your smileâ€"To answer you in your own styleâ€"to pursue the imaginative and poetical a litâ€" tle further; still, to cling to a met-z» phor which seems less like a metaâ€" phor than a. solemn truth, what are the terms upon which you propose an amnesty betwixt us?” ed, hated, despised him; but reâ€" memberng that her struggles were now merely as those of the bird fluttering in the net of the snarer. he. replied quietly enoug‘11:‘â€"â€"‘ hc. replied quietly enough 2â€"â€" “The two modes, gentle lady, are fair means and foul: in peace or in war I shall hold you hereâ€"if you prefer a reconciliation, you shall have thatâ€"if you choose a perpetu- al battle. you shall have that. We can live Without quarrelling, should: you desire it: we can remain at daggers drawn, if that suit your temper betterâ€"one way or other, I will, however, carry my point. If you choose harmony, I shall prefer itâ€"if you compel me to use force, I will employ_it.”‘ oppressorâ€"niy husbandâ€"my curse; I thank Heaven that at last, stand- ing on your very hearth, I can say, in all sincerityâ€"I am free and I defy you.” “You throw down the gauntlet bravely, madam," he said, abso- lutely quivering with passion, for her determination was not what he had anticipated; “and I take it up readily. That point is then settled for the presentâ€"you have taken your choiceâ€"so be it.” From that hour Judith was never left alone for a moment; three was 1n hlS power. that he was uh length muster. she slave, endued him with power to subdue a hasty demonstration of rage, and turn« ing with z» malignant smile of tri- umph to the table, he coolly deposi- ted his watch thereupon, with the air of a man, who conscious he had the best of the dispute, could af- ford to be calm on the matter. “Will you have the kindness to point out the different modes by which you propose arriving at your end ’1” Judith slowly requested. little explanation would be desir- able.” He knew as well she only said this 130 rufiie and annoy him as he knew he was standing within a couple of feet or so of the handsomest woâ€" man he had ever beheld, who loathâ€" retorted. “I may have an idea,” she re- turned; “but I always prefer dacid- ing upon matters of fact. Tell me what you proposeâ€"without a moâ€" ment’s hesitation I’ shall then tell you what I prefer.” changeable as if it ‘ in marble, instead traced on feature blood. A burning his cheeks; but the was in his power. an you not guess them e as immovable and un- ‘ as if it had been carved instead of being merely features of flesh and burning flush came over ; but the feeling that she ; power. that he was at ‘ster. she slave, endued newer to subdue a hasty he w completely as though the'greu commumcat sure. howeV by return 0 ment of th she laid as and paper, over the la. tmg-roou saying no of' the SI 5n the ea l [K precisely what the result would be â€"understood the reason why' she was permitted to Write at all â€"â€" grieved exceedingly because a pro mise made under difierent circumâ€" stances compelled her to reveal her secret, and gratify, even in one soâ€" litary instance. her husband’s van- ity and cupidityâ€"but without a syllable of remonstrance â€" without a single observation or attempt at concealment, she worked resolutely (:n, till the last sheet was finishedâ€"- the last proof correctcdathc book published, and the money paid for it. “N0 desplcame thought her husb tor a considerable of the publisher â€"0ne by one, letters of acknowledg- ment came from him, which were duly read by Mr. Mazingford ere they reached his wife. She was perfectly cognisant of this â€" saw precisely what the result would be â€"understood the reason why' she “You throw down the gauntlet bravely, madam," he said. abso- lutely quivering with passion, for her determination was not what he had anticipated; “and I take it up readily. That point is then settled for the presentâ€"you have taken your choiceâ€"s0 be it.” From that hour Judith was never left alone for a moment; three rooms on the upper story were al- 1otted to her use, and from them she never descended for months even to take a stroll in the gardens. Sleeping or waking, wet or fine, by day or by night, keen eyes a1< ways kept vigilant watch upon her -â€"her husband or some of his satel- litesâ€"there was not a. chance of es- litesâ€"there was not a chance or es- cape she saw, and her soul sicken- ed and wearied at the long confineâ€" ment, but still she remained unsubâ€" (lued. She would not promise. Mr. Mazingford grew desperate, and sheâ€"she would have died but for the relief of pen, ink, and paper; but, for the novel she felt herself bound to finishâ€"a portion of which she knew was in type. Chapter by chapier the manu- script was forwarded tp Mr. Maspn _ “Have they?” she said more calmly; “it would be to subject my- self again to indignity, sorrow, hu- miliation, to avail myself of your most generous offer. Ten minutes â€"or ten years, my answer, at the expiration of either period, would be. the same. Take it now, once and for ever. I will give no promise. I will never be reconciled to you. Do your worst, and I defy you; you for ever. 1 W111 glve no pI‘OmlSB. I will never be reconciled to you. Do your worst, and I defy you; you may touch my body now, but my spirit never, never more. Yes, Lewis Mazingfordâ€"my master‘my gables of Wavour Hall may be carâ€" ried to other lands and Spoken about there; to do all this, not be- cause I love you and you are my husband, but because you are proud of me and are my master. What few women can forgive, I have ex- perienced at your hands â€"* what most consider the overflowing drop in the cup of injury yon harve pour- cd out upon me; but I of mere personal violenc from the rest of my sex spect, and care less for than for mental suffering 5» weak or delicate but bear a blow; and you kn must have been the mental sufferâ€" ing I endured, when beside the reâ€" membrance of it all corporeal pain sinks into significance. The body! if you had stabbed me to the heart â€"if you had trampled me under foot, and done your worst on it, I could have gone down on my knees and blessed you for your clemency, Iewis Mazingfgrd !” He had the tdvantage over ln‘ now; the old advantage which he always gained, when feeling and passion found vent with her in words. “If you have quite concluded your eloquent harangue, madam,” he retorted, “will you have the kmdness to give me a definite an- swer ’lâ€"Lhe ten minutes have ex- pired.” 1d paper, :er the lat She sat at car a. blow; and one by, I let y nd never uttere ever raised a h ng nothing; V he sun from he east till 11 ing away am mt m ave h ndure despicable tan andsc and and hand e overn ury you ; but I [ violem my sex less for pens, ar_xd ink, { to gazmg out amount this, t} pr( rove how v mental suff beside the mrporeal p c. The box e to the he ed me um mnds â€"â€" what ‘rflowing drop )u have pour- I think 1 1C6 1t you are m are pm ter. W . I have in th: bodily defend my at )w, 111 days our worst, that her sit- nothmg. thi 1y pmn am not differ at re- ll 1' can it became known ford and the at clever books” v the same person was a. perfect fur ter: and at last I “The finest cheese I ever made were made in the way I have just described. Perfect as to texture and closeness and ready for the market in the same length of time as curds worked in the more moist and more general style. These firm curds, of course, require light- er salting. I do not say that one can keep from having white whey day after day, as common condi- tions will not permit it. Under pro- per conditions it is not only posâ€" sible, but the finest results can be obtained." fr: When water 11 a trifle higher piling will not hurt, but is not usually necessary if conâ€" ditions are favorable and the curd has been properly handled. A curd of this kind will get ready to salt quite quickly, and I have had them when no moisture would drip from vat or sink until salt was added. be all right. Turn at intervals un- til ready to mill. Two deep will be sufficient. Mill with 1% to 2 inches of acid on hot iron or about .75 per cent. acid. Keep well stir- red and at a depth of 6 or 8 inches. if curd is rather too stiff and firm “In a short time, or as soon as the underside of curd has faced up so as to pick up all loose particles, turn again. It may be left single or if real firm and dry txvo deep will ting until the curd attains a crisp and quite dry feeling. A handful will require a. little pressure to ex- pel any moisture if the curd is in proper condition. This may require four or five times stirring through with short intervals for draining. but it is not a difficult matter if well cooked and the proper amount of acid at dipping. Pile curd 6 or 7 inches deep evenly over sink and when well mattedâ€"probably 20 minutesflut into strips of 6 inches wide and turn, leaving an inch or more between each piece. Is it possible to make Cheddar chces with no 1035 of white whey? How can it be prevented ‘1 These are questions asked and answered 51' a. recent issue of the New York Produce Review and American li‘eamery. One of the answers, by William Winder, a Wisconsin cheese maker, is given below: "In answer to the first part of this question, I would say, yes. How it may be done would require ra- ther a lengthy paper. There are many conditions when it is an im- possibility. The first requirement is a vat of sweet nuik free from any bad odors or taints, a small quan- tity of good commercial starter â€"â€" say 1/2 per centâ€"added to the milk, and then set sufficiently sweet or rather with the right development of acid to insure a suflicient time for a good cook. Raise the tempera- ture to the cooking point in one hour and forty minutes or there- abouts. If the acid developmentis about right the curd should be ready to remove whey in 23/4 to 3 hours. A string of % inch on the hot iron, or about .18 per cent. ac- idity, will be plenty at this stage. Although not necessary, a curd sink and racks are a. real benefit and help in securing desired re- sults. With the above acidity quickly get the curd on the racks and keep loose and free from mat~ tho out fi+++++¢¢§++¢+++++¢t+++ ’ + .9 § Alma: Em Farm E kne out a+++o++++++¢++++*++++t GETTING RID OF WHITE WHEY. lety upon h: :w had alre LIVE STOCK NOTES n a horse bur it is because e it is good f l and invigon really astonishing, when 3 known that Mrs. Mazing- l the authoress of “those looks” were one" and the 2 person. In fact, there rfect furore about the mat- at last Messrs. Noxley and offered terms for a fresh rms which actually startled ingford. (11111 minist self 001 be Continued.) zdy any OI her Imag- 5he was not going Lter to his prideâ€"- )nspicuous as “the azingford, â€" Such to bring more no- self than that she dy been wrought for him blesome in re-33 I hlS n likes 1! ose 1n 1t and Murray is one of the happiest men on earth. His humor is sin- cere. He is glad he does not have limbs that are racked with rheuma- tism. To the man glum with broodâ€" ing over ill fate, Murray’s magnetic uplifting conversation always puts things in a more cheerful light. STORY OF BLIZZARD. “Like every one else, I learned the benefit of my blessings only af- ter I lost them. In the big bliz- zard that swept some of the North- ern States and Manitoba on Jan. Murray says that in the forty- one years of his life he has never taken a. drink, but he chews plug tobacco incessantly. He seldom smokes, disliking to handle fire. He tells an interesting story of his life. Recently this man started giving lectures in small towns. He ap- pears in tights showing the arms extending just below the elbows and the legs just below the knees, then proceeds to dress after apply- ing his artificial members. Fully attired he can run and even dance a bit, and swings along the street with careless grace. Knives, forks, spoons, matches, hooks, pens or the like, are easily slipped into openings provided in the wooden wrists, which practice has enabled hi Into govern accurately. The hooks, handy in dressing, are used more than any of the other attach- ments. Mr. Flahetty surveyed the clear sky with a. frown. “It’ll sure be raining to-day,” he announced. gloomily. “What makes you say that 1” to the nearest home, a half mile distant. She brought up the rear and picked up some that fell. A Dakota schoolmaster sent his pupils to their death in the storm and re- mained himself by the fire, keeping comfortably warm burning seats and flooring.” 12, 1888, there were many pitiful deaths among teachers, school chil- dren and settlers. In Omaha. :1. school teacher named Miss Freeâ€" man lost her four limbs just as I did. When the roof was blown from over the heads of the children huddled inside the schoolâ€"house she had the presence of mind to tie the children together instead of turn- ing them out to seek their homes separately. That would have been sure death. “After fastening them in pairs she connected all with strips torn from her underskirts and started the line, with the oldest in the lead, Had to I'mlcr Frozen Members. Although he eats and drinks with ease and dresses Without assist- ance, Arthur J. Murray, of Port- land, Oregon, has neither hands nor feet. The members had been frozen in a. Canadian blizzard and their amputation could not be avoided. many ms; thoughtlc driving 6 In order to succeed in breeding ducks it is necessary to have water in which the breeding stock can swim. Without this the young bird will never be strong or healthy, and it is not difficult to make a duckpond, if there be an insufficient supply of water naturally. There can also be no question but that ducks which have a. good pond do not cost nearly so much to keep as do those who have not this priviâ€" lege. This can be seen by the time Which ducks spend in scouring the bottom of the water, Where they find worms galore, and other im- portant elements in their natural food. When they are seen with beads in the water and feet upperâ€" most they are engaged in this work. HE HAS NO HANDS 0R FEET. driving easier, but it is a. distress- ing sight to witness a horse rest- lessly tossing up its head in order tc relieve the pew caused by hav- ing to carry its head and neck in such an unnatural position. You may sometimes see a horse over- checked until his head is almost parallel_to its back. _ ‘ xpec mat M‘d to this point; than hybrids. lack bees also cap their honey hiter and smoother, which gives it hiter mce )I‘ V e at )ll THE LOCAL FORECAST 11 his friend :cause,” sa taken notic t it to rain lS 11K )we , t1 1nd smx appeav tance assly mzn. it in possible tt panchera at a. shoe 5 rcifu d to b1 «3 overhe 11 man is merciful to we are tcld. If 50, said of those who use 3 be used on their rcrhead check rein? In as it is, doubtless, used said Mr. Flaherty, tice that whin I don’t ,in at all, that’s the m’ nobody could be )othe ance because [‘20 ring the young bn'd trong or healthy, ifficult to make a. ‘e be an insufficient naturally. There question but that e a. good pond do ,0 much to keep as man 1n r\mpniution 0t makes distress- rse rest- in order l(