St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 21, Number 14, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 26 October 1895 — Page 3

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AN < 8 CHAPTER VII. “Well, old chap,” said Bart, walking {nto his friend's studio the mext morning, “not packing up, I see. Night's rest gives wisdom. (ot over that traveling fit?” ~ “I don’t understand you."” '%u“‘;&bout going over ther. Given that p.n * “I have been obliged to. There was not 8 berth to be had though 1 offered the agent double fees.” “Well, that's all for the best, you see. Fate is working with you."” “But I have taken passage in the next.” “You have?” - “And paid my fare.” “Humph! Well, and what will you do when you get there? Go and see her mamma?” : “Os course. Bart, old fellow, this has given me an idea. 1 want fresh ground for a picture or two, Hayti and its in- ! habitants, the grotesque tropic colors, the | foliage, sea, and sky, and the picturesque | people.” ; “Yes, a deal of paint you would spread on your canvas, Nounsense, man, you'll } thing differently before your mounth is | up.” i Paul looked at him with a peculiar | mocking smile upon his lip, and began to arrange a canvas on his ecasel ! “Well, I must be going.” sail Bart, | cheerily, “I've a couple of important op- | erations to see at the Maison Dieu. 1| say, are you going to the hotel this morn- | ing?"’ ' “No,"” said Paul, quietly, 1 have been.” ! “Did you see your sister " Paul smiled. “Yes,” ke said. “And Miss Dulaun?" “For a few minutes,” said Paul, flushfng. “Bart, old fellow,” he said, hastily, ! “1 don't like that woman, Madawme Saintone. Sheis trying to keep us apart.” “Naturally, my boy; a lady who is appointed chaperon must set her face against unlicensed courting.” “I feel that she /has some designs of her own.” . i “Nonsense, old fellow! You look | through & magnifying glass at things. | For my own part. I think she behaved | very well. Here, I must be off. May | see you to-night, but probably-not till to. ? morrow morning. I say, though, are you | going to see them off at the station?” “] shall go to Havre with them, if 1 onn."” “Is your zister going?"’ wNo Bart looked at his friend and then glanced at his wateh, closed it, and hur. | ried away. eager and iuterested in his | studies; and, as bhe had anticipated, he | was not able to ook Paul up again till the next morning when he met him just | passing the conecierge's lodge. ; “(ioing to the hotel ¥he said, eagerly. | Pan! nodded, *“Take me with you, old fellow., Oh, 1 say, don't hesitate. Hang it all, I will feel for you in your trouble, so have a | little pity on me. Ywour sister returns to | the convent to-day.” i “How do you know " said Paul, dryly. | “Well—er--the faet is she told me."” i I’'aul laughed, but there was no mirth | in that laugh. i “Come along,” he said, “vou shall eall ! with me again.” i “That’s right. 1 say, Paul, old fellow, | I really am sorry for you." f “Oh, as sorry as a man can be who is | perfe -tly happy,” said Paul, bitterly. | “Step out; it is nearly twelve.” | It was a needless request, for Bart was | ready to break into a run, regardless of | the effeet it v onld have upon the saunter- | ing people they passed, As it proved, he | rather outwalked his companion, and the | clocks were striking twelve as they reached the hotel. | “Send up our eards to Madame Sain- | tone,”” said Paul to the concierge. | The man looked at him wonderingly. : “She is gone, sir.” | “Gone?” “Yes, sir; but one of the young ladies is | there still.” i “Quick; send up the cards to her, Bart. | She has repented,” he whispered. | Bart looked at him, half reproachfuliy. “You know you are deceiving yourself, | old chap,” he said to himself, as he saw f his friend begin to pace the hall excitedly, | while his own heart beat, and he knew f that he was not wrong in thinking that ! the young lady still in the Creole lady's roon: was { 11« ;x". Gil you step up, 8 r,”” said an attend ant, and directly after they were ushered into the presence of Lueie, who was waiting. dressed for her departure, and who | flew to her brother’'s arms: | «Oh. PPaul dear,” she ecried, bursting into tears. sy} hat does this mean 7’ he said, harsh- | 1v: ‘“‘where is Aube?”’ | " wGone, dear,” cried Lucie, hysterically, as she clung to her brother, “Don’t don’t be angry with me. I could not help n “Quick,” said Paul, who was as pale as ashes, Lucic tried to choke down her sobs and woent ou \’H‘.lll)l}'. “It was that Madame Saintone’s doing, dear. I hate her. She is——"' “(Go on, gunick,” eried Paul, fiercely. “Why has she gone before the appointed time?”’ “Madame Saintone said it was her duty to Aube to save her all the pain and suffering she could, for one thing; and an other was that she had had a telegram from Havre which necessitated her going to join the ship at once.” “And they went?"”’ “And they went an hour ago; and, Paul, I am sure it was to keep you from seeing Aube, for everything was packed ready.” “Yes,”’ .he. said, . hoarsely, ‘ahd Aube—" “Sent her loving farewell to you, but Paul. she is so changed. She only had time to say a few words to me without that woman or her daughter being by, but she told me to stay till you came

! and te]l"you she would never forget you, and—-— “Bart, see my sister back to the convent,” cried Paul, hurrying towards the door. “Paul, what are you going to do?"” “To follow them,” he said, shortly. *“I | am not satisfied that she should go with this woman. Bart, I trust to you. Goodby!» > “Oh, Paul, Paul!” cried Lucie, bursting into a fresh fit of sobbing, as the door was closed; and somehow she did not reject the resting-place offered for her head as Bart knelt down by her. But it was only for a few moments before the teachings of the convent and her own maidenly reserve prompted her to rise and take a chair by herself, pointing to another, k “T must go home now, Mr. Durham,” she said, sobbing less frequently now: | i “but I can't go through the streets with | a face like this." { *No, of course not,”" he said, sympa- ‘ thetically. *“Wut a little while.” “Mr. Durham,” said Luecie, “wounld it | be asking too much of you if I begged ‘ f vou to follow Paul to Havre, to take care {of him. TPoor boy! he is half mad with l | grief.” : E i “Teo much? cried Bart. “Why, 1 like | | it. Ask me and I'll go with him to the | . West Indies when he starts.” ! [ “Go where?' cried Lucie, with a hor | | rified start. § { “Eh? Well, I onghtn't to have tnhli | you, perhaps, if he did not,” said Dart, ‘ ‘ confusedly. i “AMy brother going to the West Ipdies®” % “Well, he talked about it fn?lm\'im:’ them, vou know--and lw snid he had se i cured his berth, but it's some time yet, | and all that will go out of his head before then."” E “No Paul said he would follow Aube?” f “Yes; that's what be said,” eried Bart, | hastily. i “Then he will go. Oh, what shall I | do—whnt shall T do?" i “Anything but ery,” said Bart, excited. | Iy. "It cuts me to the heart to see you | { like this." i i “How can 1 help it,” she sobbed, “when | | you tell me thix? Me, Durham, you do i like Paul?” i i “More than 1 sheuld ever have liked a ! ! brother.” ! “And you would do that for him?" ! “1o what for him?"’ i “Go with him to the West Indies ™ % “No.” ; “Mr. Durham!” eried Laucie; “is that be. | ing his brother?’ L "1 don’t know,” said Bart, sturdily; | L “but I will not do it for him, but if you | ask me 1 will do it for you" *Yon will?' eried lLacie, joyously, and with all a giri's inconsistency and thought [ Jossness, | "“Yes, that I will. Why shouldn’t I go' { It's six months before 1 can have pos | session of wy practice, and if you wish me to go ' take passage in the sanu i boat and look after hima, and doctor him, i and keep him out of danger.” § “You'll do this for my brother?"’ ecried : Lacie, flushing deeply. : i "No" ssid Bart, "ll'll do it Tor you if i you'll promise to pay for it seme day {in the way I ask.” [ “Mr. Durham!” said Luele, rising and speaking hastily, “my eyes are better t now, will you mind seeing me to the con- | [ yent?’ ! {: “1 am your slave, Miss Lucie, as I've | proved to you. YWait one moment; you | ! will pay me for going, as I ask?"’ i ! . . i i “I—l will give you as much money as 1 | | ean, Mr. Duarham, but I am not rich.” " { “Money!” he said, "as it 1 wanted i money. 1 want you to promise me i that e , i “Really, Mr. Durham, I must go now."” | | eried Laucie, hurrying to the door, “and 1 | | think if vou see me into a fiacre and tell | 3 the man to drive me to the convent, that | | would do.” | | “For me, in Paul's eyes!” said Bart, | | roughly, “not so untrustworthy as thart. i Miss Lowther needn’t be afraid of me."” | | he muttered, bitterly, as he followed her | i out on to the staircase and down through " the hall, where they waited while a fiacre | | was obtained: and as soon as they were 1 { inside, Luce began to chatter to her com- | !panion excitedly, so that he could not E i get in a word, and sulkily accepted the | situation. | “I've offended her,” he said to himself, l ' dand all the time it was =0 genuine and | true, for I would have gone to the world's | end for her sake."” Qoon after the fiacre drew up at the convent gate, and was allowed to enter ! the courtyard. ‘ I “We must say good-by directly, Mr, | i Durham,” said Luce now, in a husky | { “Yes."” he said: “good lb_\‘_" '; | “And you will go with Paul whatever | ‘ he does 7"’ ! i ““Vou wish me fo7 he shid, as the | I¢~:\rri:l:n began to draw up at the ““"}i l trance, w “Yes. Don't touch me now,”’»she whis- ‘ pered. ‘“Yes, do, do; and protect lli!X!j always.” | “And my payment by and by? Luce, | I do love you with all my heart.” | | “Hush! Here is the sister,” she whis- | \pui'ul, as the door was opened and a ttlnin. elderly woman in the nun’s garb { looked scandalized at seeing one of the | pupils return like this. ‘‘Good-by, Mu. i Durham,” she said, *“and thank you for sceing me safely back. Ah——" She burst into tears as he handed her out and 1 retained her hand. “Goeod-by—good-by!”’ | She ran in, and Bart slowly entered the l fiacre again and told the man to drive to his lodgings. ‘ “She did not promise me, but I prom- ‘ ised her,” he said to himself, “and I'll keep my word. Os course, she did not promise. What girl could promise so much to such a rellow as I am? But she shall see I'm staunch, that she shall. I'd go to the world’s end for her.” And an hour later he was on his way to the station, with a small'valise in his hand, ready to follow his friend to

Havre and onward to mfiéi’?fiu T R “Not much baggage,” he said to him':‘sf- ut 1 ‘.:ia«fi;bfi“u 't’.-leup* shir ortwfi rpce e e “Gio to the West Indies mm% shall see.” Sl eAy | — it R AR R | CHAPEER.VIL, “l hate her,” said Antoinette, with a vicious look aft, one evening when the wonderfully deep blue amethystine waters of the great gulf were being turned to purple and gold by the gorgeous light of the setting tropic sun. = “Poinette, my child!” said Madame Saintone, with laughing reproval, “l do,” said the girl, vindictively, “Ever since we started she has played her fine boarding-school airs on everybody with her mock innocence and sham simplicity. How you can make so muach fuss over her I don’t know.” : “My dear 'Toimette,” said Madame Saintone, arranging her dress abeut her chair, so that it should fall in graceful folds upon the deck, “late said that I was to take charge of the poor girl, and 1 have treated you both alike." “Yes; put that woman's child on a level with me, mamma-—that brat of such 8 _creature as that.” : “I havdly thought about the mother, my dear, only of the beautiful, highly educated girl.” Lahe “She i not beautiful, mother,” .5 “A matter of taste, my dear. At al} events she is the danghter of a man whihy used to be yonr father's friend,” o i;‘ © o Aud look at her where she sits, plarilis the queen with all her court around her,” cried the girl, mocking!'y. “Any ond' would think there was not another lady on board.” She looked vindietively at where Aube Cwas seated, gazing towards the west, he® face irradinted by the dying day, listening - to the words of the young officers and pas- ’ sengers who had vied one with the other i in thelr attentions ever since the vessel - sailed from Havre. lu tact, there had C been rivalries invumerable, and mere than | | one angry quarvel withont cause, for | L Aube had always disteibated] her ;:Nm.§ | words and looks with the greatest im- | partiality, trying hard not to be wearied | | by the many artentions and acts of kinds | | ness she had receivedd, ‘ P “Yer," said Madame Saintone, smiling, x P “she has reigned preity well over them, { my dear, and no wonder: freed from her i convent Hfe she is o very sweet girl” i { “"Mamma -mother! How ean you myi | ®0?" cried Antoinette with a stamp of ! the foot , i “Beeause 1 think so, and T am t“&-% P pleased and angry with you for being zm; § l;;-:f:.. I \\’N?u'l! Yyou to be nicer “‘i'h] ¢ her You silly, jealous child” she con- | tinned mockingly, “what i« the mmwr?f | Let her have her short reign, she will not rob you of any of your admirers when we z-vs home.” | i “What do you mean?’ | | *Dao I talk of what 1 wmean, my chil®? i No: still tongues are the wisest, 1 wish | { you to be loving and kind te the pretly | heiress Fate has thrown in our way.” : “,‘t;' v “Hold sour topgue snd continue 1o be | gentle and plensant to her, It is not for | long Femorrow morning at daybreak I we gbnil be oli the port ‘: i “Bat it sickens pie all this false lhi»% i",;'.".«vv“l"'!",eh- e ! “You w srow to ke her, "Tolhette, as 1 do: it I you are Aot mars anw '}l. your condact will sicken her. Conl, now. J 1 . . . \ & i‘.?‘f‘ Muadame N rone's wond s Ia i ng her heavy lids weit) Yiertd . : 1549 oef :h! V‘;-in’k rron whe 1 her mother acrors the OV e ' .’ - i tudied. and ot e ¢ i an exapggerated formm that witu alften ik the o aiie graces she had picked up Paris during her siay. i {'To be continued.) ! OVERRUN BY RATS. An Army of Vermin Takes Posaess cion of the Island of Troplc, ! The Island of Tropie, twenty milcsi sonth of the Florida coast, has been Invaded by an army of savage rats, aud the inhabitants have been forced to | flee for their lives. Tropic 18 thiee miles long and two miles wide and the sofl is very fertile. A dozen families have settled on the island and engaged in erowing vegetables for market Georece Butler, one of the settlers, bas just reached here, and tells a thrilling story of the invasion and subjugation of 'ill’n'i;f.' by the rats. Up to a month aro, according to Mr. Butler, there were no rats on the island. At that time the advance guard of the rodents arrived, | apd were quickly followed by others, | until in two weeks there were fully 10,- { 000 on the island. { rhe rats ecame from the mainland, | which was only two miles away, and { Afr. Butler affirms that they, SXRenlu * across. e says he has seen them {om—- ' ing out of the water by hundreds. y At I firet the rats coniented themselves ith Lttacking the vegetables, which ke oon destroved. Then they invaged hoe homes of the settlers. The lafier meade war on the rats, Killing humh’t/ds of them. Mr. Butler says he has killed ;;]\' many as 100 at one shot, but that | others would rush forward and attack v: him, biting him viciously on the legs. | In spite of the slaughter the rats got | into the houses and attacked the wom- ‘ on and children. Several of the latter E were badly torn by the sharp fangs of | the rodents. One baby was so severely i hitten about the face that its life is des- { paired of. | Toor three nights, Mr. Butler sayg, not ‘ a soul on the island slept, as that would have meant death. At last the people, ;;“ terror and worn out, fled in their [ boats to the mainland, where they are ; now campedina destitute condition, Mr. { Butler says the rats pursued them to i the water's edge, and the women and children were-repeatedly bitten before the bouts could be pushed off. Ryery vestige of vegetation had been destroyed on the island and it resembles a desert. The rats are described as gray.in color and monstrous in size, being larger than squirrels.-New York Recorder. The Adamites, a sect of the fourteenth century, were named from one Picard, who called himself Adam, the Son of God. |

ITHE FARM AND HOME. | B MATTERS OF INTEREST TO FARMER AND HOUSEWIFE. The Way One Sensible ¥armer Buys Machinery—Don't Winter Too Many Fowls—How to Relieve Choked Cattle—Shelter for the Stock. How He Bought His Machinery. To obtain improved machinery when short of money, 1 went to a retail dealer | and arranged to plant a crop expressly to pay for the miachinery wanted. . I { rever order more machinery than 1 feel ‘ [ sure I can pay for in the fall, says a i { Writer in the Agriculturist. In this way I have bought all kinds of farm machinery, and supplied the house with 'impl'n\'ml house-keeping utensils in | |km\pin;.: with the sari. } I Wintering Too Many Fow's, l The earlier in the fall the fowls not | }wmnml for winter are separated from i ithe flock and gotten rid of the h-.»Hm'! it will be for the farmers’ protit. Most | | peoplie postpone this until about holiday 1 time. Then there is nearly always a iglm of poultry, and though the fowls ave meanwhile made some gain in T*J:\'ei;:ht. it is offen less than the decline ‘lu price. The saving of one or two { months' Keeping is not all the gain by thus early disposing of the surplus. ; Those that remain have more room and

bettor cave. It is a good time early in | the fall to securve improved breeds. Choked Cattle. I hawe seen several receipts In your Evaluable paper for relieving choked cattle, says a correspondent of the Country Gentlenmp, but I think the following better than any: Loop a i plece of wire; pliace one hand below the | ebstruction on the outside, run the wire 2 down the throat below the obstacle and i draw It out, : ! Shelter for Farm Animals, i Every stockman shounld give his antmals the best shelter he can. Humanity and good tinancial policy will warrant ‘nothing less. But, unfortunately, some | %fnrmvrs cannot provide good shelters, | !Whlch are expensive, This is not a i good reason, however, why they should ! not provide as good shelters as they can. One = not justitied in exposing his ani- ' !maln to the severity of the season be- | eanse he eannot provide painted build- | ings. P’ens of poles, the cracks chink- ! pd, and roofed with straw, cost very lit- | ‘flo In some localities. Sheds of straw | are genorally inexpensive. Even fodi der “lean-tos” are better than nothing. i s ! The Shorthorn Carrot, [ The lavge varieties of carrot are | poarser and less sweet than the smaller 1 imrts. They also grow deeper in the ;:mnud. and are hard to harvest, This ean be done best by going through with n plow, cutting a straight line on the land skde next to the row. It will then ' be comparatively easy to pull out the ;10=I~ gext to the open furrow. But a | ! better way still is to plant the shorthorn {parrot seed. This variety grows partly | i out of ground, and for guality it is not | exeelled, Llt does not grow so large as | | the deep rooting Kinds, hut can have its | ?h»\\.fl nearer and stand thicker in tln'} i row without bheing crowded, The short- i i horn esrrot is much the best for ::ll:ln! i use, aond it iz €0 much casier to harvvest | ' It that sowe farmers grow it exclusively , i for their stock, 1t is the best root for | f horses, and a2 ration part oats and part tv:m'nt is betior than one with a larger | allowance of grain, but without the ! rouls, Making Cider Vinexar, ‘ There is always a good demand for ;vlnn;.:‘n'. and none is better than that { made from cider out of rich, sweet apipios. The earlier it is made, the more i rapid will be the fermwentation and the { quicker will come the change from alcoi hol to acidity. This souring is mueh ‘hns!vm-d by frequent exposure to the i air, turning the cider once a day from { one vessel to another. This exposes it | to the air. and if it is done for a few l weeks the vinegar will be as sour as by ; letting it lie in the barrel for as many months. The early apples are often de‘fiviout in sweetness, An addition of sugar to the cider greatly increases the ’nl('nlml and also the acid in it when l that stage is reached. Parsnips Need Frost, | The parsuip is not only a hardy veg- { etable, but it is improved by light | ‘[ru,sls'. Before any freezing weather oc- | mrs the parsnip has a harsh, aerid taste. _+ Besides, after the first light frosts the ! parsnip makes in most gardens a more rapid growth than it did before, espe- | cially if the frost is followed, as it is apt || to be. by rains. As is well known, the { parsnip may be left in the ground ‘[t!n'nu;:h the winter without being in- } jured. It requires to be dug as soon as lflw frost is out of the ground, as it | starts to grow very quickly. This soon i gpoils the lavor of the parsnip, and if | the new gieen growth is large, it may | even make the parsnip poisonous. | Yeeding Rye. Rye is much more easily grown than swheat, and is less exhaustive of fertility. It makes an excellent hog feed, l and some farmers have even advocated growing it to be fed down by hogs, claiming that in this way they can get lmorn profit from their land with less labor. But in most localities this would ! be a very wasteful method of disposing ‘of the rye crop. The straw is often more valuable than the grain. By threshing the grain and then erinding it with corn an excellent feed is produced better for hogs than either grain alone. ‘ Preserving Egzs in Salt, A poultry dealer says in the Massachusoetts Ploughman: “Since I learned that an unfertile egg keeps better than a fertile one, I have had no trouble I In getting a good price for eggs that are laid during summer. As soon as the

OO TSN R TSR SP S S s T P RNP (breedlnx secason I 3 over, kill or remove every male bird on the place. Gather your eggs fresh every day. Have some cheap, clean barrels or boxes ready; also a barrel of dry salt. When you come in with the eggs, go directly to the cellar with them, where your boxes and salt are. Cover the bottom about an inch deep with salt. Now take the eggs one at a time, and gently press them, big end down, into the salt, and so on until fyll. In November your eggs will be in good condition. All the trouble you will find will be to wash the salt ‘from them carefully. Your barrel of salt will do for another season, or better, perhaps, feed it out to the stock. There is but one extra precaution—Dbe | sure that all the eggs are fresh and na | cracked shells.” Cultivating Frequently. ‘ Undoubtedly weeds at one time had { their use, to stimulate farmers to work i the soil 50 as to destroy them. But now- { adays the best farmers do not wait for t\\'vml.\‘ to appear before they set the |vnlli\':m»r going. ' The time to kill a ‘ weed and have it do the greatest good ‘ to the soil is just after its seed has ger- \ minated. But cultivation does much more than destroy weeds. It mixes the soil, pulverizes the hard lumps and enables the soil to hold a greater amount of air in contact with its moist surfaces. This eauses fermentation in the soil and develops carbonic acid gas which makes mineral fertilizers soluble.

Millet as Horse Feed. Horses are very fond of millet, and especially so of the seeds. They will fatten on millet hay, but if there is a great proportion of seed in it the milet should be given sparingly. There is a belief among farmers that millet seed injures the Kidneys, but we have fed it to horses without injury. All very l nitrogenous feeds weaken the kidneys, imul should be fed sparingly. It is best in growing millet for horses to sow pretty thickly. There will be feweér seeds on millet so grown. The stalks will be smaller and more readily eaten than will be those of millet sown thinly to grow a seed crop. % Toor Quality of Prairie Hay. { The scarcity -of hay this year will i probably induce large importations I from the West. The facility with which hay may now be baled and sent s long distances very cheaply has re- { duced the quality of baled hay very | much. Much of the Western hay is of | poor quality, and if feed has to be | bought, it would be well to buy grain, which is sure to be cheap, and let the hay alone. With plenty of grain which can be ground and mixed with cut hay or straw there is cheaper nutrition than can be found in hay, especially if ‘ it has to be purchased. | Salt for Poultry. i It is a common error that salt is |.fatal to poultry, says the American ‘ I'armer. This arose from the ill effects [ of allowing poultry to get at salt when | they had not had it as a part of their rations, and once theyv got access to it i they ate enough to kill them. All soft | food given to poultry should be salted !:xh(mt, as much as the same amonnt { would be for human use, and If this 1s { done they will never eat salt to excess | if they are allowed to run where they | can get at It. Salt is one of the necces | sary elements of the blood, and If it is not Mernished in some shape the health | of the fowls will be impaired and their ! productiveness lowered. | g l Pork Made of Nuts. The nut crop this year is said to be very large in most seetions of the countryv. It can be made of use for nuts | that will not pay for picking, by turn. ing hogs into the woods and letting them harvest the erop. This was often done \};hnn the country was new. The | pork made from nuts is very sweet, I but it is apt to be soft, as the nuts ar¢ | oily. TFeeding the pigs a few weeks | toward the last with grain hardens the { porlk, and if the grain is not exclusively | corn it does not make it less sweet and ; toothsome. i Tobacco and Fertility., | The tobacco crop requires very rich !l iand, and it is very exhaustive of fer- | tility. Many farmers who go to grow- | ing tobacco thinking that it is all profit, | find that it takes most of the manure ‘ made on a large farm, with some min- | eral fertilizer besides, to produce a | good crop. Whether this manure used | for fruit growing would not produce ! areater profit is a question that tobac- ; co growers the last year or two have| | been anxiously asking. l ¥gg Producing Hens. Egg producing costs less than raising ‘fow]s for market, either in time or | trouble. They are a finished produet, { requiring no feeding, fussing or loss. ! They sell for cash, and there is no dan- | @or of an over production. g A Continuous DJlilker, { A red-polled cow at Whittlingham, { ling., has yielded milk continuously f since she ceased calving, five yeurs ago, [ her record being 13,734 gallons of milk ‘ of the first quality. No other case like ! this is known. 2 No Germ 'i'ilerc. ! At a dairy in Berlin, famous for the l purity of its milk, the milk is stvainec through a wire sieve with a clo¢h, on which rests a deep layer of fine sand Before the sieve is again used the sand is put in a hot oven to destroy any pos sible germs. Millfeed and Cottonsced Meal, A close study of the feed marxet it needed at present prices for milk and beef. Cornmeal, cottonseed and gluten are cheap also; but, even so, it is nos always easy to make the sale checks balance the feed bill. The Yellow Transparent Apple. The yellow, transparent appie, a new Russian sort, has borne fruit here, and it sustains its character of fruiting while young and of early ripening.

PS O PN £B A TR BTy O PR LTI W BACELTI, EASY WAYTODIVORCE b, 0% £ INDIANA LEADS AND DECREES ARE VALID. Toosiers Were the First to Recognize the Utility of Flexible Laws and to Make Escape from Marriage a Matter of Little Difficulty. Statistics of Several Counties. A recent issue of the Chicago Tribune had the following to say about the divoree Wdustry in this State: While certain well-defined rules govern all other trades, fixing their locations an{ establishing their centers, those of the di vorcee industry scem to be as migratory as a strong-legged tramp and as uncertain as the marble in a roulette wheel. Indiana was the first State which ever recogunized the possibilities of mutual profit between suitors and residents in lax divorce laws and for a long time had a monopoly of the business. Then the laws of IHinois were so amended that the marringe bonds could be more easily untied and Chicago had quite a boom. Its advantages as a place of residence during the year of waiting were quickly recognized. But lately the Dakotas, Wyom- | | ing, and Oklahoma offered inducements no person seeking a divorce could resist - | But it is one thing to secure trade and | another to hold it, and so much fault kas been found with the divorce goods offered [ on Western bargain counters that their | custom is deserting themi and now Inliana's trade is looking up again, with

every prospect of an increasing and wellmaintained boom. On the September docket of the Parke County, Ind., Cireuit Court, just ended, the divorce cases were one-eighth the entire number of cases set for trial. In Clay County there were thirty-cight divorce cases tried during the September term, while in Vigo (‘ounty there were four times as many as in Parke. There are already five cases filed for the November docket in Parke County. For the lebruary term of this year there were seven, while six divoree suits found places on the April docket, making a total of twenty-nine in the Parke County courts thus fe» this year. Forty -Count '¥m, The records in the clerk’s office for November show forty divorces during the vear. In the 18893 docket this record sinks into insignificance, out of the 155 cases tried there being forty-nine of them for divorce, or pearly one-third of the entire list. Os these the Febrauary term put up six of them, April eleven. September brought in seventeen, while by November fourteen more dissatisfied couples wanted to be released. The divoree business in Parke County was only in its infancy in 1891, and in 1892 it only brought up sixteen cases during the year, September, with seven petitions, being the heaviest month. With twenty-nine divorces on record in Parke County at the present date, the vear 18435 will outstrip all its predecessors before it gives up the fight on Dec. 31. Tl'rom every other county in the State, where the September term of court has closed, comes the report of an amazing number of divorces on trial. The population of the county is equal to one one-hundredth of the population of the State of Indiana. Taking the eleven divorees in the September court as an average, which is a fair and conservative es timate for the State as a whole, it means that there vere 1,100 divorce suits on trial in the In.iana September courts just closed. They represent 2,200 parties to the suit. An ariny big enough to defend the State from any military intrusion. If this great company of disappointed mortals could be got together in a kind of refitting school, with sly little Cupid as the chief instruetor, it is believed fully 800 new couples could be made from the old 1,160 disunions and misfits. Hoosierdom’s Way of Divorcing. Upoen investigation it is found that the common method of procuring a divorce in Western Indiana is to have the clerk of the court make out a notice of non-resi-dence. The fee for this process belongs to the clerk, but it happens that three times out of five he never gets it, and it is also a fact that nearly all divorce cases™ are worried along through the courts on a dead-beat process. Then when the complainant, or attorney, asks the clerk for the papers, he has no choice but to give them, and place the case on the docket ready for a hearing. Next a notice is taken so the printing office of a paper of general circulation, and the editor is asked to print it four successive times. When court convenes the attorney asks this same editor for a statement showing the notice to have been printed four times, which statement is given the court. - Here the dead-beating process comes in again, and the Parke County papers have inaungurated a crusade against the practice, claiming that not one of four of these divorce complainants ever pay for the publication of the notice. They say that hereafter all notices must be paidl for before they will testify to their having appeared, which testimony is absoelutely essential to every granting of a divoiee. The attorneys are also steering shy of these manifold divorce cases, stating that of the ten to fiventy in every term of the (Clircuit Court not more than half of them are good pay. And still further the court officials are getting a little weary of this divorce business on the ground that it is largely due to these divorce suits that so much important court matter must be subjected to sundry decketings, and, in many cases, held ever from term to term owing to a lack of time to hear it. Thus the moral reformers, the editors, the court clerks, the lawyers, the court officiais in Indiana have at last struck a sympathetic chord and it will bind them all together on this divorce question. The averare time of these divorces is found to be within three years after mariage. Minor State News. Aaron . Shimer, of Spencer County, is wearing a4 medal as the tallest soldier in the Union army during the late war. He is 56 years old and 6 feet 6 inches high. Dr. D. M. Shively. of Yorktown, whiic attending a patient, accidentally: fell and broke his leg. ‘ While the Pearsons were playing @Beg Lebanon Miss Alice Louise Pering/ S soubrette, attached the company pr for 60 unpaid salary. She a’ against Charles Phillips, thg for assault and battery, and ¥ fined $17.25. The managy but he declined to pay Eventually, however, a reached, the company 2 the soubrette until QQQ\AQwas reached. i % / A‘