Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 22, Number 101, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 September 1901 — Page 3

The Doctor’s Dilemma

CHAPTER XX.—(Continued.) “You lone her?" said Johanna. “Certainly,” I answered, ‘‘as my sister.” „ } “Better than any' woman now living?” ■he pursued. “Yes.” I replied. “That is all Julia requires,” she continued; “so let us say no more at present, Martin. Only understand that all idea of marriage between her and my brother is quite put away. Don’t argue with me, don’t contradict me. Come to see us as you Would have done but for that unfortunate conversation last night. All will come right by-and-by.” “But Captain Carey——” I began. “There! not a word!” she interrupted imperatively. “Tell me all about that wretch, Richard Foster. How did you come across him? Is he likely to die? Ia he anything like Kate Daltrey?—l will never call her Kate Dobree as long aa the world lasts. Come, Martin, tell me everything about him.” She sat with me most of the morning, talking with animated perseverance, and at last prevailed upon me to take her a walk in Hyde Park. Her pertinacity did me good in spite of the irritation it caused me. When her dinner hour was

at hand I felt bound to attend her to her house in Hanover street; and I could not get —away 'mk^’j.Ciont—first. mp&a&kig c '-J n - Julia. Her face was very

sorrowful, and her manner sympathetic. We said only a few words to one another, but I went away with the impression that her heart was still with me. At dinner Jack announced his intention of paying a visit to Richard Foster. “You are not fit to deal with the fellow,” he said; "you may be sharp enough upon your own black sheep in Guernsey, but you know nothing of the breed here. Now if I see him ,1 will squeeze out of him every mortal thing he knows about Olivia.” Jack returned, his face kindled with excitement. He caught my hand, and grasped it heartily. “I no more believe she is dead than 1 am,” were his first words. ‘‘You recollect me telling you of a drunken brawl In a street off the Strand, where a fellow, as drunk as a lord, was for claiming a pretty girl as his wife; only I had followed her out of Ridley’s agency office, and was just in time to protect her from him. A girl I could have fallen in love with myself. You recollect?” “Yes, yes,” I said, almost breathless. “He was the man, and Olivia was the girl!” exclaimed Jack. “No!” I cried. “Yes!” continued Jack, with an affectionate lunge at me; "at any rate I can swear he is the man; and I would bet a thousand to one that the girl was Olivia.” “But when was it?” I asked. “Since he married again,” he answered; “they were married on the 2d of October, and this was early in November. I had gone to Ridley’s after a place for a poor fellow as an assistant to a druggist, and I saw the girl distinctly. She gave the name of Ellen Martineau. Those letters about her death are all forgeries.” “Olivia’s is not,” I snid; “I know her handwriting’ too well.” “Well, then," observed Jack, “there, is only one explanation. She has sent them herself to throw Foster off the scent; she thinks she will be safe if he believes her dead.” “No,” I answered hotly, “she would never have done such a thing as that.” “Who else is benefited by it?” he asked gra,vely. “It does not put Foster into possession of any of her property, or that would have been a motive for him to do it. But he gains nothing by it; and he is so convinced of her death that he has taken a second wife.”

“What/can'l Jo now?’’ I said, speaking aloud, though I was thinking to myself. “Martin,’’ replied Jack, gravely, “isn’t it wisest to leave the matter as it stands? If you find Olivia, what then? She is as much separated from you as she can be by death. So long as Foster lives it is worse than useless to be thinking of her.’’ “I only wish to myself that she is alive,” I answered. “Just think of it, Jack, not to know whether 6he is living or dead! You must, help me to satisfy myself. TJiis mystery would be intolerable to me.” “You’re right, old fellow,” he said, cordially; “we will go to Ridley’s together to-morrow morning.” We were there soon after the doors were open. There werp not many clients present, and the clerks were enjoying a slack time. Jack had recalled to his mind the exact date of his former visit; and thus the sole difficulty, was overcome. The cleric found the name of Ellen Martineau entered under that ddte in his book. “Yes,” he said, “Miss Ellen Martineau, English teacher in a French school; premium to be paid, about £10; no salary; reference, Mrs. Wilkinson, No. 19, Bellringer street.” “No. 19 Bellringer street!” we repeated in one breath. “Yes, gentlemen, that is the nddress,” said the clerk, closing the book. “Shall I write it down for you? Mrs. Wilkinson was the party who should have puld our commission; as you perceive, a premium was required instead of a salary given. We feel pretty sure the young lady went to the school, but Mrs. Wilkinson denies it, and it is not worth our while to pursue our claim in law.” “Can you describe the young lady?” I inquired. “Well, nor We have such hosts of young ladies here.”’ * “Do you know where the school is?" * “No. Mrs. Wilkinson was the psrty,” he said. “We had nothing to do with it, except to send any ladies to her who thought it worth their while. That was all.” As we could obtain no further information we went away, and paced up and down the tolerably quiet street, deep in consultation. That we sbonld have negd for great caution, and as much craftiness, as we both possessed, in pursuing our Inquiries was quite evident. Who could he this Mrs. Wilkinson? Was it possible that she might prove to be Mrs. Fos-

By Hesba Stretton

ter herself? At any rate it would not do for either of us to present ourselves there in quest of Miss Ellen Martineau. It was finally seftled between us that Johanna should be entrusted with the diplomatic enterprise. Johanna put in the next day following down the clews Jack and I had discovered. “Well, Martin,” she said that evening, “you need suffer no more anxiety. Olivia has gone as English teacher in an excellent French school, where the lady’ is thoroughly acquainted with English ways and comforts. This is the prospectus of the establishment. You see there are ‘extensive grounds for recreation, and the cOmforts of a cheerfully happy home, the domestic arrangements being on a thoroughly liberal scale.’ Here is also a photi|'raphic view of the place; a charming Vina, you see, in the best French style. The lady’s husband is an avocat; and everything is taught by professors—cosmography and pedagogy, and other studies of Which we never heard when I was a girl. Olivia is to stay there twelve months, and in return for her services will take lessons from any professors attending the establishment. Your mind may be quite at ease now.” “But where is the place?” I inquired. “Oh! it is in Normandy—Noireau,” he • I said —"quite out oi me i-augtrtiiT'uln’mis ana WumVifc- .i.'EfeArw.'ari'Lbft-iin danger o any one finding her out there; and you know she has changed her name altogether this time.” “Did you discover that Olivia and Ellen Martineau are the same persons?” I asked.

“No, I did not.” she answered; “I thought you were sure of that.” But I was not sure of it; neither could Jack be sure. He puzzled himself in trying to give a satisfactory description of his Ellen Martineau; but every answer he gave my eager questions plunged lis into greater uncertainty. He was not sure of the color either of her hair or eyes, and made blunderiug guesses at her height. What was I to believe? It was running too great a risk to make any further inquiries at No. 19 Bellringer street. Mrs. Wilkinson was the landlady of the lodging house, and she had told Johanna that Madame Perrier boarded with her when she was in London. But she might begin to talk to her other lodgets, if her own curiosity were excited; and once more my desire to fa'thom the mystery hanging about Olivia might plunge her into fresh difficulties, should .it reach the ears of Foster or his wife. “I must satisfy myself about her safety now,” I said. yourself in my place, Jack. How can I rest till I know more about Olivia?” “I do put myself in your place,” he answered. “What do you say to having a run down to.this place in Basse Normandy, and seeing for yourself whether Miss Ellen Martineau is your Olivia?” “How can I.?” I asked,-attempting to hang back from the suggestion. It was a busy time with us. The season was iu full roll, and our most aristocratic patients were in town. The easterly winds were bringing in their usual harvest of bronchitis and diphtheria. If I went Jack’s hands would,be more than full. Had these tilings come to perplex us only Pkro months earlier,’ I could taken a holiday with a clear conscience. VOad will jump fft'lhe chance of ing back for a tt’eek,” replied Jack; “he is bored to death dawn l at Fulham. Oo you must, for my sake, old fellow. You are good for nothing as long as you’re so down in the mouth, i shall be glad to be rid of you.” In this way it came to pass that two eveningß later I was crossing the Channel to • Havre, and found myself about five o’clock in the afternoon of the next day ’at Faluise.- It was the terminus of the railway in that direction; and a very ancient conveyance was in waiting to carry on any travelers who were venturesome enough to explore the regions beyond. I very much preferred sitting beside the driver, a red-faced, sinooth-cheeked Norman, habited in a blue blouse, who could crack his lopg whip with almost,the skill of a Parisian omnibus driver. We were friends' in a trice, for my patois was almost identical with his own. and he could not believe his own ears that he waH talking with an Englishman. The sun sank below the distant horizon, with the trees showing clearly against it, and the light of the stars that came out one by one almost cast a defined shadow upon our path, from the poplar trees standing in long straight rows ka the hedges. If I found Olivia at the end of that star-lit path my gladness in it wpuld ,be completed. Yet if l found her, what then? I should see her for a few minute* in the dull salon of a school, perhaps witl some watchful, spying Frenchwoman present. I should simply satisfy

"SITTING .BESIDE THE DRIVER.”

myself that she was living. There coold be nothing more between us. I dared not tell her how dear she was to me, or ask her if she ever thought of me in her loneliness and friendlessness.* I began to sound the driver, cautiously wheeling about the object of my excursion into those remote regions. I had tramped through Normandy and Brittany three or four times, but there had been no inducement to visit Noireau, which resembled a Lancashire cotton town, and I had never been there. “There are not many English at Noireau?” I remarked suggestively. “Not one,” he replied—“not one at this moment. There was one little English mam’zelle —peste!—a very pretty little English girl, who was voyaging precisely like you, m’sieur, some months ago. There was a little child with her, and the two were quite alone. They are very intrepid, are the English mam’zelles. She did not know a word of our lnnguage. But that was droll, m’sieur!' A French demoiselle would never voyage like that.” The little child puzzled me. Yet I could not help fancying that this young Englishwoman traveling alone, with no knowledge of French, must be my Olivia. At any rate it could be no other than Miss Ellen Martineau. “Where was she going to?” I asked. “She came to Noireau to be an instructress in an establishment,” answered the driver, in a tone of great enjoyment —“an establishment founded by the wife of Monsieur Emile Perrier, the avocat! He! he! he! how droll that was, m’sieur! An avocat! So they believed that in England? Bah! Emile Perrier an avocatT’ “But what is there to laugh at?” I asked. !■> “Am I an avocat?” he inquired derisively, “am I a proprietor? am I even a cure? Pardon, m’sieur, but I am just as much avocat, proprietor, cure, as Emile Perrier. He was an impostor. He became bankrupt; he and his wife ran away

M establishment ■ Lwssl broken ud. It was a bubble, m’sieur, and it burst.” My driver clapped his hands together lightly, as though Monsieur Perrier’s bubble needed very little pressure to disperse it. “Good heavens!” I exclaimed, “but

what became of Oli—of the young English lady, and the child?” “Ah, m’sieur!” he said, “I do not know. I do not live in Noireau, but I pass to and fro from Falaise. She has not returned in my omnibus, that is all I know. But she could go to Granville, or to Caen. Thete are other omnibuses, you see. Somebody will tell you down there.” • It was nearly eleven o’clock before we entered the town; but I learned a few more particulars from the middle-aged woman in the omnibus bureau. She recollected the name of Miss Ellen Martineau, and her arrival; and she described her with the accuracy and faithfulness of a woman. If she were not Olivia herself she must be her very counterpart. I started out early the next morning to find the Rue de Grace, where the inscription on my photographic view of the premises represented them as situated. There were two houses, one standing in the street, the other lying back beyond a very plepsnt garden. A Frenchman wag paeitfg ’MO and down the broad gravel path which connected them, examining critically the vines growing against the walls. Two little children were gamboling about in close white caps, and with frocks down to their heels. L T pon seeing me he lifted his hat. I returned the salutation with a politeness as ceremonious as his own. “Monsieur is an Englishman?” he said in a doubtful tone. “From the Channel Islands,” I replied. “Ah! you belong to us,” he said, “but you are hybrid, \ half English, half French; a fine race. I also have'English blood in my veins.” I paid monsieur a compliment upon the result of-the admixture of biohd in his own instance, and then proceeded to unfold my object in now visiting him., “Ah!” he said, “yes, yes, yes; Perrier was an impostor. These houses are mine, monsieur. I live in the front yonder; my daughter and son-in-law occupy the other. We had the photographs taken for our own pleasure, but Perrier must have bought them from the artist, no doubt. I have a small cottage at the back of my house; monsieur! there it is. Perrier, rented it from me for two hundred francs a year. I permitted him to pass along this wallj, and through our coach house into a passage which leads 'to the street where inadame had her school. Permit me, and I will show it to you.” He led me through a shed, and along a dirty, vaulted passage, into a mean street at the back. A small, miserable-looking house stood in it, shut up, with broken persiennes covering the windows. My heart sunk at the idea of Olivia living here, in such discomfort and neglect and sordid poverty. “Did you ever see a young English lady here, monsieur?" I asked; “she arrivecLabout the beginning of last November.” “But yes, certainly, niqnsieur,” he plied, “a charming English demoiselle! One must have been blind not to observe her. A sweet face, with hair of gold, but a little more somber. “What height was she, monsieur?” I inauired. “A just height,” he answered, “not tall like a camel, nor too short like a monkey. She would stan'd an inch or two above your shoulder, monsieur.”

It could be no other than my Olivia! She had been living here, then, in thia miserable place, only a month’ ago; bat where could she be now? How was I to find any trace- of her? “I will make some inquiries from my daughter,” said the Frenchman; “when the establishment was broken up I was ill with the fever, monsieur. We have fever often here. But she will know — I will ask her.” He returned to me after some time, with the information that the English demoiselle had been seen in the house of a woman who sold milk, Mademoiselle Rosalie by name; and he volunteered to accompany me to her dwelling. It was a poor-looking house, of on« room only, in the same street as the school; but we found no one there except an old woman, exceedingly deaf, who told us that Mademoiselle Rosalie waa gone somewhere to nurse a relative, who was dangerously ill, and she knew nothing of an Englishwoman and a little girl, I turned away baffled and discouraged] but my new friend was not sp quickly depressed. It was impossible, he maintained, that the English girl and the child could have left the town unnoticed, He went with me to all the omnibus bureaus, where we made urgent inquiries concerning the passengers who had quitted Noireau during the last month. No places had been taken for Miss Ellen Martineau and the child, for there was no such name in any of the books. But at each bureau I was recommended to see the drivers upon their return in the evening; and.l was compelled to give up the pursuit for that day. (To be continued.)

SPOILED THE FLIRTATION.

Pony Was a Racer and Had to Keep in , the Front. A gentleman who is a member of the Meadow Brook Hunt Club and delights in horseback riding received a few days -prrg..n..wjrv J “c»»v;ise” or cow-pony, as i-lbyv are called in the Northwest. The

animal had some speed and an easy gait, and, after riding it around the country roads ahfew days, he rode it, one evening, with a party of ladles and gentlemen who were out for a moonlight canter. The party split up into couples, and while the gentleman in question would much prefer to have taken the rear of the line with the lady whose escort he was, yet the pony developed an unexpected ambition to lead the procession, according to the New York Mail and Express. He let the “eayuse” have its own way only to find that the-head-strong animal insisted on being at least one-half a length in front of the horse ridden by the lady. There w r as no holding that pony back on even terms with the other horses. It pranced about, jumped from side to side and pulled the bit and would be quiet only when it had its nose well to the front. Tfte lady enjoyed it immensely, but the gentleman —well, he left unsaid many things which he had planned to say to the young lady when they started on the ride. Subsequently the gentleman found the pony had been used for racing in the West and had been trained to “go to the front and stay there.”

Where Centenarians Dwell.

More people over one hundred years old are found in mild climates than In the higher altitudes, according to the “Family Doctor.” According to the last census of the German Empire, of a population of 55,000,000 only 78 have passed the hundredth year. France, with a population of 40,000,000, has 213 centenarians. In England there are 146; in Ireland, 578; and in Scotland, 46. Sweden has 10, and Norway 23; Belgium, 5; Denmark, 2; Switzerland, none. Spain, with a population of 18,000,000, has 401 persons over 100 years of age. Of the 2,250,000 inhabitants of Servia, 575 have passed the century mark. It Is said that the oldest person living is Bruno Cotrim, bora in Africa, and now living in Rio Janeiro; He is 150 years old. A coachman In Moscow has lived for 140 years.

Further Information Wanted.

In one of the later settlements of New South Wales a man was put on trial for stealing a watch. The evidence had been very conflicting, and as the jury retired the Judge remarked kindly that if he could give any assistance In the w-ay of smoothing out possible difficulties he should be happy to do so. * Eleven of the jury had filed out of the box, but the twelfth remained, and the expression on his face show'ed that he was In deep trouble. “Well, sir.” remarked the Judge, “is there any question you would like to ask me before you retire?” The juror’s face brightened, and he replied eagerly: “I would like to know, my lord, if you could tell us whether the prisoner stole the watch.”

Wanted to Be a Heathen.

Little John (after casting his penny Into the fund for the Bamalain islanders)_l W ish I was a heathen! Sabbath-School Teacher—Oh,Johnny! Why do you wish such an awful thing as that? “The heathen don’t never have to give nothin’—they are always gettin’ somethin’.”—Harper's Bazar.

What He Was Doing Of.

Mrs. Kelly—Did yez hear of the felly ocTOsht the way dyin’ of Anglophobia? Mrs. Googan—Yes mean hydrophobia! Mrs. Kelly—N*; I mean Anglophobia!l He wuz cheerin' fer King Edward, an’ de gang lieerd him!—Judge.

Speed of Ocean Steamers.

The speed of our fastest ocean steamers Is now greater than that of express trains on Italian railways.

Few Millionaires in France.

There are four millionaires In England to one In France. A second-class Joke has caused many a ms" to lose s first-class friend.

FARM AND GARDEN

' Tobacco-Cut-ins: Attachment. An appliance much in use by farmers who grow tobacco for the purpose of easily getting the bunches in the desired position will be found useful for curing anything that it is desired to swing from the rafters of the barn. Figure 2 in the illustration represents a board five feet long and three or more inches wide, which rests on the rails that are fastened to the rafters. This board should not be fastened, for It Is to be moved along on the rails from

TOBACCO-CURING ATTACHMENT.

place to place, as desired. Figure 1 shows the bar with hooks at either end, on which the bunch of tobacco or other greeu is placed. Two ropes connect tills to the framework, figure 3, which hangs over the five-foot hoard, figure 2; to either end of the top bar of figure 3, small pulleys are attached, as shown in the illustration. Figure 4 represents the rope by which the appliance is worked.—lndianapolis News. Convenient Corncrib. The Country Gentleman presents a tketch of a corncrib which is very popular throughout the Middle West. It is so constructed that the wagon may be drifted between the two parts In which corn is to be stored, and this central part comes handy as a place in which to store small tools or wagons during the winter. A floor may be laid on a level with the plates, and the attic will provide a large amount of valuable storage room. In boarding up the sides leave a space of about 1% inches between the boards. This will facilitate the drying of the corn. Frequently more slant is given to the outside walls than is shown in the illustration. This Is somew r hat a matter of taste. A com-

POPULAR CORNCRIB DESIGN.

crib built with the dimensions given and 12 feet long will hold about 700 bushels of ears on each side. Care of Asparairns Bed*. The future of the asparagus bed depends largely on the care given it the first year after planting. Cultivation Is largely what the bed needs during this first seuson, not only for the purpose of keeping down the weeds, bu.t to keep a mulch of loose earth on'the surface so that the moisture in the soil may be retained. Of course, during the first season quantities of small sprouts will grow, and the soil should be raked or cultivated close up to these sprouts, but care must be taken not to cover the crown of the plant with the soil. In some sections the practice is to cultivate away from the plants instead of toward them, but, as a rule, this is not desirable except in the case of a moderately wet summer. In a dry summer or during the season when drought is prevalent, the cultivation between the rows and the throwing of the soil toward the young plants, assists In keeping the growth moist, which is absolutely essential during this first season. In the aspargus section of the East it is the practice of growers to raise small vegetables between the rows of asparagus plants the first year, provided the rows are not less than four feet apart. Of course, when this vegetable growing is done, the work of cultivating must l>e largely done with hand hoes or with a small wheel hoe operated by hand. While care must be taken to destroy any insects that may appear, cultivation ib the main essential daring the first year. and. for that matter, is quite as necessary during the second year, the first cutting being done the third season after the planting, and that only moderately.—Exchange. Permanent Pasture. Prof. Roberts, of the Cornell Experiment Station, gives directions for forming a permanent pasture, which we eondense. Plow now. and sow with Duck--'Wheat to be plowed under wbea la

tfoom. If par* of the land is moist tow R with four quarts of rape seed per acre, which may be fed down by sheep, but If fed or not turn rape stubble under at same time as buckwheat. If cost Is not too great sow from ten to twenty bushels fresh slaked lime per acre, and then harrow it in. After thia, or when seed is sown, use from 100 to 200 pounds per acre of a mixture made from 1,000 pounds acid phosphate, 300 pounds dried blood, 200 pounds nitrate of soda, 3,000 pounds muriate of potash. (We should think the above 1,800 pounds not too much for ten acres of pasture laud, and if well distributed as a topdressing on some old pastures it might save necessity of plowing and reseeding if there was a good turf.— Ed.) For reseeding he advises the following mixtures per acre. Sown about Sept. 1: Red clover seed, six pounds; alsike clover, five pounds; Kentucky blue grass, orchard grass, fescue and red top. 3% pounds each; timothy, four pounds. This is a very good mixture, but for New England we should put four pounds of white clover in place of the alsike or add it to the mixture, and if the pasture was for dairy purposes, would add four pounds sweet vernal grass and two pounds tall oat grass per acre to insure good early pasturage. The little extra cost would be quickly repaid.—American Cultivator. Late Hatched Ponltrjr. While,~of course, the dependence for winter layers must be placed on the chicks that are hatched in February, March and early April, there is no question but what June and July hatched chicks may be made profitable, provided they are kept growing at the greatest possible rate all through the summer. The present season, owing to I the rainy wea'tner,”uie~eaVij were very~i»oor” ana' 1 ..usber**-lbe_batch ing was done by the old hens it seemed almost impossible to get enough hens in a broody condition to do anything along this line, so that this year, more than for several years previous, there will be very many late hatched chicks. June and July hatched chicks should ha-ve all of the green food they can obtain on a good run, fed carefully with small grains, and, while not being overfed, should have food every time they show any inclination of being at all hungry, the plan being to make every day count in giving them weight and strength. This treatment should be enforced regardless of the destiny of the chick. If it is to go into wipter quarters to lay at the proper age, it will be all the better for the treatment indicated, while if it is to be put on the market In the early fall, it certainly would be more profitable to have It of good weight.

The Beat Strawberries. Mr. J. H. Hale, of Connecticut, who is good authority upon peaches and strawberries, classes the Marshall, Sample and Glen Mary as the great market berries of the new kinds, and the Nick Ohmer, Maximus and Mammoth as fancy amateur varieties for home use or for a near-by market where firmness during transportation is not considered more important than flavor or quality. All are very productive and most of them produce large berries. These have, w'e believe, all been Introduced wdtbln about ten years past, and may be said to mark the improvement made in that time, but many still make their main crops of the older varieties, either because of the cost of plants, or because of a not entirely unfounded Idea tljat most of these require unusually good soil and cultivation to produce the best results in size of berry and amount of yield. It is those who get the fancy berries and fancy prices _ whose fruit sells first when the market is well supplied, and as costs of picking, boxes, crates and transportation are no more, and of high cultivation but little more on the twelve-cent box than on those that sell for live cents or less, they are the ones that pay the best profit.—Massachusetts Ploughman. Growing Tomatoe*. Vick’s Magazine, which is very good authority upon as well as florists' business, says that Professor Mussey formerly entertained the opinion that heavy applications of nitrogenous manures for tomatoes made the vines too rank and the fruit crooked, but now he thinks that If the strain of seed is good no amount of manuring will make it more irregular in form**, and that a rank grow th of vine, means that they will need more room and produce a larger crop of large tomatoes. He believes that seed from small fruits will produce small fruit, and the reverse; that training to a single stem results in less number of blossoms, less pollen and a smaller crop, while the largest crops are on the plants that are allowed to develop naturally, and fruit on healthy plants lying on the ground Is no more liable to rot than that off it. Like Indian corn the tomato best when the seed is grown in the same climate and latitude where the crop Is to be grown, and to take it far north or south is to prevent it from doing Its best. If this Is so the gardener will do well to save his own seed from his largest tomatoes, which Is a very simple matter. Fairy Poultry Tales. The daily papers report a certain Boston millionaire as buying some fine poultry at prices w hich make previous big figures look small—sl,ooo for a dozen birds, $3,000 for two pair, S7OO for another pair. We never did bank very heavily on the accuracy of the daily paper* when they treated matter* relating to poultry (not much on other matters either; and know of no reason for changing our method now. Indeed, such statements serve to confirm us in our old opinion of the Inaccnracy of the daily papers.—Farm Poultry. Immigration for the eleven month* ending with May Increased 411,073.