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lighting Life’s Battle; 0“, LADY BLANCIIE’S BITTER PUNISHMENT CHAPTER IV.â€"(Con’d.) Lord Norman, with a shrug of his shoulders, dropped into a chair be- side the little table. The game proceeded. Raymond chatted and Lord Bruce replying now and again in indifferent mon- osyllables; and the luck, which had smiled on the earl from the begin- ning, remained faithful until one solitary sovereign stood beside Ray- mond’s elbow. “That last l” he exclaimed. “Let us see whether it will follow the others, or call them back!” Strange to say, the luck seemed to change, and game after game fell to Raymond. His face grew flushed, his eyes sparkled. A pile of gold and notes stood on the spot where the solitary sovereign had stood, and Lord Norman, with a smile, rose to fetch some more money from the cabinet. As he did so he happened to glance in the small mirror over the mantel, and saw something that made him turn crimson and then pale and stem. He said nothing, however, but brought some notes and gold from the cabinet and returned to his seat. The game proceeded and reached a point'at which the first man who scored would win. Raymond held the cards in his hand, and looked up suddenly. “Bruce,” he said, “this must be our last game! What do you say now, double or quits 2” Lord Norman nodded, and with a dexterous movement Raymond swept his pile of money into the middle of the table. “Double or quits he said “By heavens, if I win this I will swear never to play another game, â€"until the next opportunity l” and he laughed, “Are you ready? It is your deal! Now I mean to play my very best.” “Just so,” said Lord Bruce, “but before we begin, hadn’t we better see whether all the kings are in the pack!" and very quietly, but with terrible strength, he seized Ray- mond‘s arm, forced it up, and took the king of diamonds from his sleeve. There was a moment‘s awful sil- ence, as the two men looked into each other’s eyes; like the reflecâ€" tion of one face, so alike were they in features, but fearfully unlike in expression. Slowly Lord Norman got up. “Raymond, you were once a gen- tlemanâ€"01‘ I would throw you out of the window. Go l" and he pointâ€" ed to the door. Raymond got up slowly, and as if with difficulty, and moistened his lips. "Bruce, I swear to you thatâ€"â€" that this is the first timeâ€"" Lord Norman then smiled, a cold awful smile. “0h, do not think that I am about to deprive you of your booty, sir. You forget that I could not take it back;" and he pointed to the heap of moneyâ€"“you have touched it!" Raymond stretched out his trembling hands and drew the heap toward him, then with a sudden gesture of renunciation he raised his dark eyes with the sinister gleam in them. “No! I will not take it. But some day, perhaps. Lord Norman, you will wish that I liadl I always hated you, but. before Heaven, I never hated you as I hate you to- nightf Take care, or I shall pay you back for that insult! Take care lest the cheat, whose vcry touch you deem dcfilenieiit, prove clever enough to win his revcngef" ‘7’ j)! Without another word the delect- l Pill'ks [Old ed cheat passed out. Lord Norman stood musing grim- l ly for a few minutes. __.._______.â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"-_________ v | of dancers and the knots of people, chatting and laughing together. He found the ducliess at last. Her grace was looking very sleepy and rather bored, and she almost frown- ed as Lord Norman came up. “Aren‘t you ashanicd to near me?" asked her grace. “I am. Quite l" he said, quietly. “And I have come to tell you so.” He remained for a few minutes, until he had won her forgiveness for his late appearance, then wan- dered on again. "If you are looking for. Lady Blanche you will find her in the south anteroom. At least she was there five minutes ago,” said her grace; and he went to the ante- room leading to the grand stairâ€" case. I Seated on an ottoman was a very beautiful woman, just past girlâ€" hood. ' She was very fair, with thick, silken hair that was almost the color of pure gold, its bright- ness being relieved by eyes of dark velvety brown, that at certain times were almost black, and~cyeâ€" brows of rich auburn. In addition to her grace and her beauty, Lady Blanche was possessed of that rarest gift in womanâ€"an exquiSite voice, capable of arresting the attention and keeping it as closely fixed while she spoke as if the hearer were under aspell. She was an heiress in her own right, With houses and lands enough .to make the penniless sons go Wlld with longing. They thronged round her, and tried their hardest to Wln her, but to one and all sle had only one answerâ€"the soft, clear mono- syllableâ€" (AN0 1)) Lord Norman stood at the en- trance of the anteroom, looking at the group within. They made quite a picture, the little circle of menâ€"young and oldâ€"with the beautiful woman in the center, leaning back, with her face movâ€" ing to and fro listlesly, her dark eyes fixed dreamin on the ground, the colorless cheeks swept by the long, black lashes. Suddenly she raised her eyes and saw Lord Norman standing in the doorway; it would be too much to say that she blushed, but the faint- est of all possible colors flickered in her cheeks, and her eyes grew softer and lighter for a moment beâ€" come fore they were lowered to the ground again. Lord Norman advanced to the group, and the man who had been bending over her and endeavoring to engage her attention, looked up, saw who it was, and with a shrug of resignation at once straightened himself and made room. Lord Bruce changed greetings with some of the men, then sank down beside Ladv Blanche, and in a few minutes the little circle of courtiers, like jackals at the ap- pearance of the lion, quietly van- ished. “Where have you been, Bruce ‘2" she asked. “I dined at Lady replied. “Yes, I know,“ she said, with a smile. “But since ‘3 It is nearly three.” “I have been to my rooms.” Slowly the dark eyes were raised to his face, rested there for a secâ€" ond or two, as if they were reading every line in it, then the soft voice murmured listlessly: “Has Lady Betty found panion yet 2" He leaned back and looked round the room carelessly, too carelessly by far, before he answered: “Yes.” "Ali, Betty’s," he 3. com- I renicniberl Mr. me. A remarkably pretty girl. with black eyes." “No, they are gray," he said. and 395, It was quite ’ in that short speech he had told her impossible to sleep in his pl‘osent,{lll she had been quietly angling mood. and he thought take a turn in the now quiet streets. he would if)”- , , More a swift light had Her eyes dropped. but not be- shone in As he passol westward, he came 10 itheni, and the fan closed and fell, a large house standing at the cor- ner of a square. The house was the town residence of feather-like. in her lap. He had noticed this girl so particularly as rho Duchess Uf ; to remember the exact color of her ('liefedeii. and a ball was in proâ€" 19"“- EI‘CSS. There was just time to look i l Unknown, ungucssed at by all. in. and with a listless slcp he ciiter- lthfl‘e 13.“ hidden behind that 931m: cd, passed through If: crowd of foot- mcn. who recognized him and made I l placid exterior. a latent passion. which burned within her heart as way with respectful alacritv, and,tlie fire beneath an Iceland geyâ€" asccndcd [he stairs. saloon was still the hall was drawing to a close. The immense ,_ . crowded. though 'inoment, fed by the oil of jealousy, The fire glowed fiercely at this 591‘. but there was no trace of emotion and Lord Norman could only make ii“ the 50ft: equal "Dice: 35v l'iSing~ his 2-9.} slowly through the throng lShe and: “Will you find papa, Bruce? I would like to go now 1” He got up and gave her his arm, and hunted for Lord Seymour, whom they found yawning in a corâ€" ner, evidently just awakened from a nap. and with the old pccr they went down to lhe hall. With extrcinc care and gcnllc- ncss he arranged the fur cloak round the while shoulders, and put her into the carriage. “You will come and see iiiorow, Bruce 3" she said. “Yes, of course. Goodâ€"night," he replied, and turncu away. The cari‘izigc door closed, and the ovcr~fed, fidgety horses sprang forward so suddenly that they near- ly knocked down a man who was crossing the road at the moment. The coachmaii, with a carefully suppressed oath, pulled up short, and the man got to the pavement. As he (lid so, Lady Blanche looked out to see what was the matter, and the man caught a glimpse of her face, upon which the light from tiie windows was now streaming In an instant Raymond, for it was he, recognized the original of a portrait which he had seen in Lord Norman‘s room. More than that he had caught in the dark eyes .and colorless face, a look of pasâ€" sionate jealousy which Lady Blanche had suppressed while Lord Nor- man had been with her. It was not much for a man to work upon as a leverage for doing a fellowâ€"mortal an injury, but Oscar Bjaymond was not an ordinary man, and it was enough for him. With a smile and a nod, he crossâ€" ed the road, and, setting off at a jog trot, followed the carriage to Lord Seymour’s house, in Eton place. me toâ€" CHAPTER V. Floris was just finishing dress- ing on this her first morning “in service,” and the breakfast bell was clanging through the house, when she heard a knock at her door, and a strong voice, with a decidedly French accent, requestâ€" ing permission to enter. Floris opened the door, and saw a tall, thin French girl, with small dark eyes, that instantly fixed themselves on Floris’ face, and just as quickly sought the ground again. “Pardon, mani’selle, I am her ladyship’s maid. Her ladyship’s” ~she paused just a-seC()ndâ€"â€"“com- plinicnts,”~â€"Lady I’endletoii had said “love”â€"and would main’selle kindly attend at inilord’s break- fast tablel Miladi is unwell.” “Certainly,” said Floris. “Will you tell her ladysliip that I am sorry she is unwell, please?” The girl bowed and Floris hur- ried downstairs. She was late ; and it was a bad beginning; but she had slept but littie, and that rest- lessly. The French maid made a pretense of following her, then she stole back to the bedroom, and with deliberate carelessness made a coniâ€" pletc examination of the wardrobe, and every article of Floris’ which she had left unsecured. “Ah, yes!’7 she murmued. “A fine lady, but poor. N0 rings, no bracelets, no rich dresses; but, beautiful, and miladi will think her an angel! Bah! I shall hate her! I know it': I feel it 3 Something tells me that Mam’selle Carlisle and Josine will be at daggers drawn. We shall see!" and with a shrug she arranged a \visp of her black, coarse hair in the glass, and left the room. ' Floris hurried downstairs to the breakfastâ€"room. A footman was carrying in some hot dishes, and Sir Edwaid was seated at the table with the Timesâ€"containing a fell report of his last night‘s speechâ€"and a heap of letters. He rose as she entered, and his weary face lightened for a moment at the vision of fresh, young beauty, and his eyes rested llpOli_tl10 siniâ€" ple cotton dres, that fitted so ad- mirably. with an expression vague admiration and satisfaction “Lady I’cndleton is unwell th': morning, but no doubt they hav told you," he said. as if anxious i avoid any unnecessary words. “Yes,” said Floris, with tact; “I am very sorry. Sir Edward 7!" Sir Edward glanced at her ap- proviiigly. Had his wife at last got a treasure? At any rate, a girl with such a face. and such ready fact as to condense a question into two words, must be worth having. She gave him his coffee. and took 'SCDM‘ bacon in exchange, and Sir Edward atc‘ his breakfast, looked over his speech. opened his letters. and peiicilcd drafts of the answers in the corner for his secretary to amplify. Presently he pushed the letters from him. and took up his cup, re- garding her attentively. “I hope you areâ€"that you will be comfortable with us. Miss Carlisle,” he said. . "I an? 3:.rc that I shall. cho nut-u. acml Cofiee, grumbling drowsin at their liccls, ' of- . .r, Sir.” h is not enough to know that we He knocked his spoon against his farm work as a whole. To be most‘ cup thoughtfully, with a preoccup~ ied air. "If there is anything you re- quireâ€"but my wife will see to that â€"I meant to say. that if you want anything in the shape of reading, please get what you want from the library. Here is the key. ’ It was a great concession, Floris had only known it. A servant came to the door. “The brougham, Sir Edward." He jumped up with the alacrily of a. clerk making a dash for his train or ’bus. and commenced to bundle his lctlers into a dispatlh case with one hand, while he took up his coffee cup with the other. Floris rose. “Will you let me put them iv. for you?" snc said, quiclly, and ncrl- ly and quickly she packed their: in orderly fashion in the case. “Thank you, thank you!” said Sir Edward. “I’ve a committee if ,ineeting .his morning at eleven, ailâ€" .othcr at one, nnd~thank you l" and _with a, final glance of surprised sat- isfaction, he seized the case from Floris, his hat and cane from the servant, and hurried out. The next qucsluon now what was she to do next? arose, It oe- ic,urred to her that she would go up and ask liow Lady Pendleton was. She went and knocked at her ladyâ€" ship’s door, softlv, and received the response of “Come in.” “It is I, Lady Pendleton,” she said, thinking that she might have mistaken her for the maid. “Come in. Yes, I knew it was you, my dear; I knew by your knock. All the rest of them hamâ€" mer,” said her ladyship. She was sitting up in bed, wrapâ€" ed in an elaborate dressing-robe, with a cup of chocolate by her and a French novel face downward on the satin coverlet. “Are you better?” asked Floris “Yes, it was only a headache. I hope you enjoyed yourself last night, and weren’t too tired! I am sure you ought to be- very gratifiedâ€"it was enough to make you vain, my dear.” “To make me vain?” Floris. queried (To be continued.) H++++++++++¢++¢+v¢¢v++ ; i , 6 k 0 .4 ‘ lllltlll the Farm ° 0 0 p § 9 o o c n++++++++++++++++o+++t COST OF KEEPING A COW. In Hoard’s Dairyman, Burton IV. Potter gives his idea on the method of reckoning the cost of keeping a Mr. Potter produces some very good arguments in sup- COW per year. port of his views, but I believe that his method of calculation is not the best one to follow. By his splan the. profit or loss of the entire farm IS carried down and placed to the account of the dairy herd. It is a fact tl1.;". on no farm are profits the same on the various lines of work. Perhaps there are not'niany farms so oper- ated as not to have a loss on some things. By the plan outlined by Mr. Potter, it is impossible to know exactly which things are producing profit and which loss. A man may be a very successful grower of grain and forage crops and yet a poor dairymaii. His farm operations as a whole may be yielding a profit. but the dairy herd may not be contributing to that profit. On the other hand. the herd may be the source of profit, and the other operations of the farm, of ll):.’7. Hence it is essential to know, at leiiz‘l api‘roxiniately, the cost of producmg ilic \urious products that make up the output of a dairy farm. No line of animal husbandry that will not pay market value for the food consum- ed should be followed. Essential as is manure to maintenance of soil ‘fcrtility. we should not be obliged .l< take it into account in order to igct market price for our grain and . {forage icul.‘ - The successful dairy farmer must be a broad guaged man. He must be as skillful at maintaining the fertility of his soil and producing liounteons crops of fccd stuffs as he is at breeding. feeding or caring for the dairy licrd. This makes .‘t necessary for him to be a student o1 all the various branches of farming: and the best incentivc to study is calculation of profit and loss. Hencc the best method is to charge the cow for what she consumes at market price. This is easy enough on hay and glall) but more difficult with cnsilagc. However, by making an eatimaic of the yield of corn pcr acre. one can Come reasonably close to the value of the crop. Cost of production should be determined for all farm products. n u successful we should know what is paying and what is not. It is the lonly ground upon which we can [base calculations. A knowledge that we are losing on a (wrtain operation will lead to bettering the {methods employed or dropping {that particular branch out entirely.‘ The men who are counting the costs are eiidcavoring to increase the profits as well as lo cut out the losses. There is no incentive to increased activity all along the line equal to an array of figures showing the cost of farm operaâ€" tions. Iarn aware that the. argument will be brought. up by many that all this keeping of accounts and figuring, means a. lot of labor and that the practical man cannot afford it. Now the fact. is that the man who docs not know where he is, is not practical at all. He can licttcr afford to do this than any- thing else he docs. Many men un~ wittingly lose enough each year to g( a long way toward paying a bookkeeper. lut a bookkeeper is not needed. A little careful figurâ€" ing will demonstrate the facts of farm operations in such a way as to be a revelation to the ordinary farmer. To fail to figure on these operations is “penny wise and pound foolish.” Take time enough to count the cost. .___â€"- FEEDING THE ORPHAN FOAL. In the event of the death of the dam at foaliiig time, the youngster may, by judicious management, be successfully raised by hand. The best substitute for niai‘c’s milk is cow’s milk, but it must be rememâ€" bered that the milk of the average cow is much richer in fat than that of the mare, and is defic1ent in sugar. To correct these conditions, the milk of a freshlyâ€"calved cow should be used; always the milk of the same cow, and, if practicable, of a cow whose milk is not rich in .fat, and to this add one-fifth of warm water, adding to each pint of that a heaping tablespoon of white granulated sugar, and be al- ways sure to feed it at blood heat. The co-lt should be fed little and often. If we study the colt when with its mother, we will find that it sucks from ten to a dozen times a day. Therefore. give him half a teacripful every hour at first, and gradually increase the quantity, while feeding less frequently, until he is fed six times a day, and then: four times. The best way to teach the foal to drink is by means of a rubber nipple on the spout of a teapot. If scours occur, a little linievwater, warmed, should be ad-' dcd to the milk. To prepare limeâ€", water, slake a lump of lime by pour- ing a little water on it; then add water and stir. Let this settle for several hours. and the clear water on top is the lime-water to be used. The foal should be kept in a loose box, well bedded, and may be taught to drink from a pail when a month old, and to eat ground oats. and bran. When let out to petsâ€" ture, it should be stabled at night, or protected from rains. v 5‘ NOISY AFRICAN NATIVES. Laughtcr is Seldom Heard in the I‘proar. Among the African natives there can be nothing done without nOise, according to William B. Clarke, who has travelled extensively in Africa. “It is simply appalling, the rush, -the roar. the chatter and the bustle, like Bedlam let loose,” Mr. Clarke said. “The principal object of coin- versation said to be money, and the huloub. bawling and uproar in all sorts of toncs from shrill and li-‘Ci‘cilllllilg to gruff and growling, accompanied by all sorts of gestlcuâ€" lations with tongue, head and feet, are beyond description. "It is rather odd, but laughter 'is almost never heard in this _up- roar, and as for whistling, it is a lost art. If there are any quarrels they are not to be heard in pubâ€" lic. although when a company of natives gets to carry on an animat- ‘ed conversation it appears to the observer as if the next act would be a melee. “In addition to these natural sounds there are others of an arti- ificinl character that are equally fa- iniiliai' to the frayelcr. Such is the noise of the drums called tom-toms, which arc beaten on every occasion, ‘land a kind of pipe about eighteen Iinches long. with holes like those inf a flute, and breathed through ' a way that produces a variety '14 notes of a wild, disc-ordain charâ€" jacter. A frightful noise is made by 'the kaffa mcii blowing on a big slit-ll.” :sz n .p_,____._. It was so cold in Denmark in 1403 that the wolves could not stay there. and crossed to Jutland, on the have a margin of profit on our 'ice.