rIELD AND FARM. SHEEP AND SHEEP KEEP. Shesp keep is at present scarce (remarks Professor John Wrightson in the "Agricultural Gazette "), and the mutton market has suffered in consequence. The difficulty experienced last fall in seeding fodder crops for early spring use is now telling upon prices, and the tegs shown in the market lack firmness of touch and turn out light. The season has been favourable to the gfowth of wool, and sheep look bigger than they really are—hence some disappointment at the prices realised. It will be necessary to supple- ment natural food with liberal allowances of cake, and in a few weeks' time the extra cost will probably be well repaid, as what the sheep now require is "finish." It is satisfactory to learn that the later flocks are lambing down better than was expected, and that the number of doubles is considerable. Some cases of fluke are reported, but we, have been spared from a general out- break, which at one time there was reason to fear. MANGEL-WURZEL. This is about the best time for putting in mangel. It may be sown up to the second week of May, or even later, but early swedes may prove more profitable than late mangel. Some farmers object to the crop because it is expensive cultivate, but the view is short-sighted. Those still have some good' clamps will now realise 11lue of mangel for all descriptions of stock, 4 and pigs included. As swedes grow short flly a few loads of mangel may be fed with IO.aad thus prepare sheep for a diet of grass mangel. a. late spring this crop is a most excellent In M$y.d-by, and, besides, it may be sold, when Early ee is a surplus, at a very remunerative price. lie expense of growing it is due to the high quality of land upon which it is cultivated, its manurial requirements, and the cost of hoeing and storing. The amount per acre is, after all, not excessive, and may be placed at £8 or £ 9 per acre. If it is grown after late roots or rape fed, the direct cost is much less, as one ploughing suffices, and farmyard manure is unnecessary. Having frequently grown the crop in the manner indicated, I find it (observes Professor Wright- son), far from costly. If £ 1 per acre is charged as a fair price for close-folding, the following estimate of costs will not be thought inadequate for light land — £ s. d. Close-folding 1 0 0 One plough 0 8 0 One roll 0 1 3 Four drags at Is. 2d 0 4 8 Fo-ur liarrows 0 2 4 Seed, 51b. at 7d 0 2 11 Drilling cleanseed. 0 1 0 Top dressing with nitrate of soda 0 12 0 Hoeing 10 0 Horse hoeing 0 4 0 Storing 1 0 0 Rent,etc. 1 5 0 £ 6 1 2 Such a cultivation is quickly performed, and the crop should be at least twenty-five tons per acre, or 4s. lOd. per ton. The cash value of the crop is considerable, and if it is reserved until the spring, ought to be double the cost as above given for home consumption, and three times the cost of production if sold. If grown after winter fallowing after a corn crop the cultivation ought, as far as possible, to be performed in the autumn, and the initial cost would be at least doubled. Those who are about to sow would do well to remember that a regular crop of moderate-sized roots is preferable to a wide-dridled crop of large roots. Six to eight pounds is quite heavy enough for quality, and these may best be grown by drilling eighteen inches apart, and setting about 15 inches from root to root. EARLY TURNIPS. These may also now be drilled for use in July and August, and as a preparation for wheat in the autumn. Ewes always do well and come into season quickly upon a piece of forward turnips, and they are useful for cows at a time when pastures are often bare. For early sowing, Pomeranian White Globe may be recommended. LATE SPRING CORN. A. good piece of early turnips is better than a ¡ piece of late-sown corn, and the land can be got into wheat, which again may be followed with barley. There is no extravagance in such cropping, as two corn crops can still be grown in four years. The corn area is still regarded as of great im- portance in rural economy, in spite of the com- mon remark that corn does not pay. Probably corn pays better than anything else usually grown. We grow root crops for corn, and we keep sheep for corn we buy cakes for corn, and fatten bullocks for corn. Corn is, in fact, the outcome of it all. The corn area ought to be kept up on arable land, for stock is not very profitable as a rule. Lambs bought last Sep- tember at 35s. have not as yet paid much for wintering, and I hear of bullocks which have sold for f.1 or £ 2 less than was given for them before winter. This is not encouraging to capitalist farmers. It is a question whether the man who bought lambs last summer is now so well off as the man who took in other people's sheep at a few shillings a head, and a little cake to be fed on the land. The question as between corn and stock is not settled as yet, because it is doubtful if keeping stock is the best method of keeping up the fertility of land. If agricultural experiments go for anything, they indicate that by using artificial manures just as good crops can be grown as through the use of farmyard manure. As to the comparative cost of the two methods, much depends upon the markets; but of all disappointments in farming, one of the worst is fattening a lot of bullocks and finding that they have left a heap of clun- costing 5s. a ton to produce, and no- thing else. All the straw, roots, cake, labour, risk, and skill gone, and the doubtful value of the dung only left as an asset. Probably milk- production will be held up as better than bullock fattening, and so it is; but the two systems must go on side by side. TILL THE GRASS GROWS. I Stock-owners have to face a period of short- ness of keep awing to an adverse time for sow- ing eatch cropSIn the autumn and a wet winter, which caused a good deal of forage to be wasted, even if it was harvested sweet, which was the exception rather than the rule last year. And up to the time of writing the weather has been in most places chiefly harsh and drying, and therefore unfavourable for producing an early bite of grass. This means (as "F." observes) that, on most farms, horses, cattle, and sheep have to be what the Americans call "hand fed," and this involves a large amount of labour tor chaff cutting, root pulping, etc., which is wanted in the fields. At the conclusion of harvest most stack-yards looked full to overflowing, but farmers who have wintered the average number of animals have found that the wet winter i-ias upset calculations quite as much as a more severe one would, and it has left the soil in a state which renders it much more expensive to get a good seed-bed than if there had been less rain to batter it down and more frosts to make it friable. FOR FOWLS. I Broken china is a good substitute for flint, and it may be a comfort to housewives to feel that their best dishes need not lack use when broken; they can with little trouble be broken much smaller and given to the poultry, and will be much appreciated. Green bones are very good for birds if they can in any way be ground up and given, and any flesh may be boiled and given with advantage in small quantities in the winter. Any dead animal on a farm (not diseased) may be used for this purpose. I know of several large poultry keepers who buy an old horse and boil it down, mixing the soft food with the liquid, and grind- ing the bones and meat, which is given in small qmjatities twice a week. Sometimes useful food can, be obtained cheaply, such as refuse from hotels. This contains meat, etc., which is use, ful for winter feeding, but care must be taken not to use fat. Eggs must be regularly col-" lected from the nests daily. Broody hens should never be allowed to remain in the nest, but should be removed to a coop and properly fed until they recover.
GARDEN GOSSIP. 1 GARDEN GOSSIP. Bedding Plants.—Geraniums and similar plants placed in cold frames must (says a writer in "The Gardener") be given all the air possible on fine mild days to induce sturdy growth. Con- tinue to keep a sharp watch for night frosts, and protect with mats should these occur. Gradually inure the plants to outside conditions, so that the lights may be entirely removed during mild nights. Pot off late struck Iresines and other tender subjects, treating them with care for a few days after potting. Bedding Cal- ceolaries ought no longer to be left out of their summer positions planted later they rarely with- stand hot, dry weather satisfactorily. Shrubby Calceolarias.—The bedding sorts of Calceolaries are designated shrubby in contra- distinction to the herbaceous varieties grown in pots. Frequently the frame in which they have been wintered is urgently needed for other sub- jects at this season, and where such is the case no hesitation need be felt in planting the Cal- ceolarias outdoors. Between Wallflowers in beds is a capital place for them. The Wall- flowers shield the Calceolaries somewhat from the cold, and as the beds are generally well enriched with manure in the autumn they are sure to be in good heart, a condition suiting Calceolaries exactly. < When Should Wallflowers be Sown ?—In olden times we used to think that a mid-June sowing of Wallflower seed gave the best results, and we certainly got good stuff by the practice. But "other times other customs," and now the up-to- date practitioner rarely allows the middle of May to pass before committing his Wallower seeds to the earth. The market man usually sows his seed in April; but then he sells his plants, and purchasers take all risks of winter slaughter among "autumn proud" produce. The old practice was, of course, based upon Nature's own plan, viz., to sow the seed as soon as ripe. In the newer plan, old seed must, perforce, be used. Good results are obtained by this latter-day system or it would not be so extensively fol- lowed. Sweet Peas.—There is no need of rows of Sweet Peas in small town gardens; clumps are far better and more useful. Half a dozen seeds, either mixed or of one variety, should be sown at each station. Do not bury the seeds deeper than one inch, dust with soot or sprinkle with Quassia solution when the seedings appear, and insert sticks or a roll of wire netting in advance of the plants' demands, for support. Sweet Peas that have been raised in pots may now be planted outdoors. It is wise to at once give them sticks as a protection against cold and animal enemies. If frosty mornings should follow planting, draw a little soil around them. Hardy Cacti.—The cult of Cactus growers out of doors seems likely to increase now that so many hardy species and varieties are obtain- able. Of course, it is not everyone who cares for them, while others in moist and wet climate districts have a difficulty in preserving them in -winter. There are many, however, who can do them well in a sunny garden, and there can be no doubt as to the beauty of the flowers, ungainly as are some of the plants. Several Echinocacti, Echinocerei, Mammallarias, and a great number of Opuntias are now offered, and there is much variety of colour and shade. Given a dry soil and a sunny place, with some glass to throw off rain in winter, many could cultivate them suc- cessfully. Early Vines.—See that red spider does not gain a footing. Sponging with soap and water if attended to on the first appearance of the pest is as good a means as any to check its progress, but fire heat should be lowered as well, and the con- dition of the borders seen to. A thick dressing of soot spread over the latter is helpful in putting on colour. Streptocarpus.-Seedlings pricked off early in March will now be the better for a shift singly into small pots, using a compost such as will induce free growth. French Beans.—Where space on a warm border can be spared, a few rows of Osborn's Forcing sown now may come in useful. A more certain method of getting early gatherings out of doors, is to sow in boxes under glass, the plants to be afterwards carefully transplanted. In any case, it is worth while to sow some in the above manner, to be grown on in cold frames. » Border Carnations.—My object in writing these notes (says Mr. E. Cummings, of Thames Ditton) is to give those who are not well ac- quainted with Carnations a few practical hints that they may find of use in cultivating these lovely flowers. I have often been asked by friends and visitors when they have been pay- ing a visit to the gardens under my charge, and where Carnations are a speciality, to show and explain to them the various classes of these flowers. All know what Carnations are, out many do not know the difference between a Picotee, a Fancy, and a Bizarre, so I will deal :with that subject first. Carnations are divided into several sections, such as Bizarres, Flakes, Picotees, Selfs, Fan- cies, Trees, and Malmaisons. Bizarres have two colours disposed longitudinally on a white ground, and are subdivided into scarlet, crim- son, pink, and purple Bizarres. Flakes have one colour only, laid lengthwise on a white ground, and are classed as scarlet, rose, and purple Flakes. Picotees have the colour placed upon the edge of the petals, and are classed as red, purple, rose, and scarlet edged, these be- ing again subdivided into heavy, medium, and light edges of these colours. Selfs are varieties of any one single colour. Fancies embrace all flowers with markings on coloured grounds, and also those too distinctly marked on white grounds. Yellow grounds, as the name implies, have the ground colour yellow; the flowers have either Picotee edges or are flaked or mixed with other colours. Tree Carnations comprise plants of a tall, bushy habit, the grass of which grows up the stem of the plant, and are more suitable for conservatory decoration. Malmaisons may be best described as a spring and early summer flowering group. Marguerites are treated as annuals, and are valuable for summer bedding purposes. I have now dealt with each class of the Carnation, and I trust the descriptions will prove useful. To grow good Carnations, the first needful is to have proper soil: it is most important that this should be sweet and free from such pests as wireworm or eelworm, for if there are any of these nuisances in the borders, satisfaction must not be looked for. I have found a good dusting of lime, soot, wood ashes, and kainit, dug in the borders in autumn, a useful preven- tive and also a cure. There are two ways of growing border Car- nations. The first is to plant out strong well- rooted layers at the end of September or the beginning of October, and allow them to stand through the winter; and the other is to pot them up and stand them on strips of board raised a few inches off the ground in a cold frame, and plant them out in the spring. When living in Devonshire I preferred the autumn planting, but as the climate in this part of the country is much colder and the soil not nearly so good for Carnations, I find spring planting has to be adopted. As to planting, my practice is to plant in beds about 4 to 5 feet wide in four rows, giving 12 to 15 inches'between each row, and rather more from plant to plant; this will be found convenient when the layering time arrives, as the operator can then get at each front and one back row, from, the path, without getting upon the border. The beds being marked out and put in order to receive the plants, they are stood on the border in their pots in the position thèÿ'. are to occupy, and each plant after being knocked out of pot is carefully inserted. No water will I be required unless the season be exceptionally dry; in fact, the less one waters Carnations the better. About April the plants will be bene- fited by a top-dressing of coot and lhQSe, ap- plies when there is some promise of rain. A neat stake should be put to each plant, and the borders kept entirely free from weeds by occa- sional hoeings.
OUR SHORT STORY. DR. BRANDON'S ADVENTURE. It was a feat which the doctor had learned from the cow-punchers of the Texan plains, and its per- "ormance occupied just one and a half seconds of time. To plunge the right hand into the pocket took half a second, to extract the weapon another half, and to level and fire the pistol filled up the measure of the period. Doctor Ambrose Brandon 4ad rather prided himself on bis expertness; he had never thought to put it to such a test as this. He stood looking down at what he told himself was once a man. That limp, broken form fallen across a rock had spoken, laughed, mocked but a few moments back. And notwithstanding the torn, worn clothes, the begrimed hands, unkempt hair, this poor remnant of humanity, with blood- less face and contracted limbs, seemed so piteous an object, so sad a spectacle, that a great chill struck through the heart of the man who had brought about this utter wreck. And he had fired in an excess of hate and passion. It was not even a case of self-preserva- tion. Therefore he had murdered the man that was clear. What end had he gained ? None at all; that was equally clear. If the matter had been desperate before, it was more desperate now. If the problem had been hard before, it was truly insoluble now. More, here was a man killed, a soul driven out. Ambrose Brandon was possessed of a sensitive conscience. Already he began to feel afraid, as he stood there, looking down, a stream of smoke drifting from the barrel of the pistol in his hand, watching the dark current that ran down the boulder and stained the green grass. That his victim was dead he had no doubt; he had fired at the heart. Suddenly he heard the sound of distant shout- ing, and perceived half a dozen horsemen gallop- ing towards him through the pampas. He became afraid. What if these rough characters took exception to his act ? It might mean lynch law, it might mean a Chilian prison. Brandon rushed to where his horse was tethered, unloosed the animal, galloped off, and soon outdistanced his pursuers. But' he could not outdistance the accusation within him that would not be silent; nor could be put from memory the face of a woman who was now for ever lost to him. r Any more, John ? n One, sir; a lady." I am ready." Dr. Brandon uttered a little sigh of weariness. To-day so many patients had visited his consulting- room. When the door opened he was making an entry. He turned round a moment latter. You!" he cried in the voice of one who experiences a terrible shock. A stylishly-dressed woman was confronting the doctor. She was extremely handsome—dark as night, and just now as silent. The splendid black eyes shone with the fire of a deep and true affec- tion. She appeared perfectly controlled, but the gloved fingers hidden within her muff were work- ing feverishly. Brandon, a prey to great embarrassment, said weakly, Won't you sit down ? As the visitor took the proffered chair, she asked, What must you think of me who have come so many thousands of miles to see you here in London ? He was terribly troubled by those tones of a well-loved, remembered voice. What must you think of me, who left you without one word of farewell?" he made answer. Or of explanation," she hastened to add. "Ah, you must, indeed, have considered my conduct as most extraordinary." And do consider." Brandon commenced to pace the room in the manner of one sorely puzzled. I left South America in a great hurry," said he. But my reason was great. Believe that." "I will only believe what you told me," answered the other. You said that you loved me that without me life for you was a thing impossible." Brandon turned upon her with burning words. IViiat," lie cried, "do you imagine that I have forgotten those words, Nita ? When I lost you I lost my peace, my happiness, my soul!" How can I understand you ? she asked in a voice whose trembling she could not command. Am I not yours still ? Should I have crossed the seas to find you if I have ceased to love you? Why did you leave me ? It was necessary. To see your face, to hear yon speak is a joy inexpressible, Nita; but it is a terrible joy, and must, not be repeated." •• You have given your heart to another ? said the woman, a flame of jealousy making her eyes flash. That can never be." Then you have married—against your inclina- tions." No, no.*1 Then you are thinking of my early marriage, of which I told you, with one who dishonoured his name and me, who-" Stop! You are quite wrong," cried Brandon, deeply paited. But she continued, "Who was sentenced by the Chilian Government to three years' imprisonment for forgery, and who died in prison. Ah, you believe, perhaps, that he did not die?" No, no, no. He is—dead. Do not question me any ,l But I will question you!" exclaimed the other standing straight before him, a quivering, beautiful statue. I will have from you some explanation why you have wrung my heart." Brandon could not restrain a groan. To gain time he opened a grimy envelope which a servant had hurriedly thrust into his hand and withdrawn. As he read the following lines, the pain that this interview had occasioned him gave away to a bewildered astonishments DOCTOR AMBROSE BRANDON, ESKQUIRE, SUR.—It wud pay you to hav a few words with me on the matter of pore Andrea St. Rosa, whom you shot stark dead so that he only lived long enough to tell me his faithful friend what you done to him and why you done it. I am in ressidence at the above adress where I shall upeck you this even- ing.—Yours, J USTISS." Brandon folded and placed in a pocket this curious communication, the reading of which had robbed his face of colour. He said- Where are you staying? She gave him the address—a fashionable hotel. I will call upon you," he said, to-morrow." And you will then explain this mystery, which it is but right that I should share with you. Will you not trust me, Ambrose ? Tho doctor drew his handkerchief across his pale forehead. "Wait till to-morrow," he answered evasively, and conducted :,his visitor to the hall door. Without, at the foot of the clean stone steps, a man was standing. He drew back slightly as the door was opened, not yet so quickly as to prevent the doctor's visitor perceiving him. She started obviously, darted a keen glance at the retreating figure, left Brandon hurriedly, and hailed a cab. She spoke a few quick words to the driver, who nodded intelligently, and drove away. Brandon had some trouble in fihding the address of his unknown correspondent. It was scarcely fear that sent him thither, but rather remorse and a desire to make some atonement for a deed which ever stood between him and peace. In a wretched tenement in a vile quarter he discovered the house for which he searched. Doubtless his approach had been observed, for he was accosted at the sordid entrance by a man who called him by his name, announcing himself as the writer of the note, and who invited his visitor up two flights of stone Btairs that had not been cleaned for decades, and another two flights of wooden stairs that had not been washed at all, into a tiny apartment that bore the marks of it's tenant's poverty. "Permit me, air, to introduce myself as Pedro Gonsalez," began that gentleman, who had flung himself into the only chair in the room, and had lighted something which looked like a cigar, but which emitted a fragrance beyond comparison. I Was a battle d^tter in" Cbiii. My cattle all died of a disease, That made me a poor man. Then I came upon my dear comrade Andrea St. Rosa. It was a queer meeting, that. He was dying. The sun was scorching up his life blood the vultures were waiting to pick his bones. Horrible! Pardon, senor, if I yield to my feelings that overcome me." Brandon, who also felt a little overcome—by the fumes from the thing which looked like a cigar, did not reply. He was wondering how it was that this fellow whose composition was so bad yet spoke with a graceful ease and fluency. "Poor, poor Andrea! He never thought to die so suddenly. If you could have seen his face with the death sweat upon it- Get on with your story," interrupted Brandon r sternly. I have no time to waste. Your friend was a scoundrel." Ah, senor, we must not speak ill of the holy dead. His last words to me were a full confession of his guilt and a denunciation of you-his destroyer. He told me, between his final gasps, this story. He ha\l been a man of great wealth, the pro- prietor of Vrge estates in Chili. He married a beautiful gi.-I, very young and-very heartless. Her name was Juanita Mendoza, and she came of an old Spanish stock in whose veins ran the best blood of a great nobility. All went well until he began to handle large speculations, and to handle them so badly that he soon ran up against ruin. In this extremity my poor, misguided friend was so rash as to endeavour to imitate, upon a sheet of paper, another man's name. Maldita he was no good at that sort of thing. So he found himself in a Chilian prison. See how well I recollect this tale, senor, which was told me by dying lips." The narrator paused to re-light his deadly cigar. Apparently Brandon was ilntensely interested, for he was regarding the otheii with a fixed, piercing gaze. Gonsalez continued. St. Rosa's restless spirit would scarcely permit him to remain in so humiliating a position. He broke from the prison, was fired upon, and—shot dead. This, at least, was the report that reached his wife, and which was told to the world. But, as you and I know, he was not killed; but he escaped, and ultimately-so he confessed to me- made himself known to you who had fallen desperately in love with his wife, Nita St. Rosa. You were, he informed me, thrown into a terrible state of alarm—for yourself and for his wife. For yourself, since you could not marry the woman to whom you had given your heart; and for his wife, lest she should be troubled by a man whom had apparently come from the grave to cast over her the shame that was his, and to prevent her from —becoming yours. Have I not this tale at my finger's ends ?" Brandon did not reply; he was still watching the speaker with the utmost keenness. St. Rosa haunted you like a shadow," Gonsalez continued. "You gave him money to leave the country, but he returned within a month. There was a bitter quarrel, and in a fit of black rage you shot my poor comrade. That was a cruel deed; 80- You will confine yourself to the facts of the story, and not presume to criticise my conduct. This man was a scoundrel. How he came to marry a woman who was immeasurably his superior I cannot tell, but he was not worthy to touch her finger tips." "That is your opinion. St. Rosa'gaspedout his soul as I held him." And have you come all this way to tell me that ?" Partly, senor; and partly-for another reason. Look at me. I am a poor beggar whom the world has used so hardly. I have but a single wish to return to my native country, to purchase a farm there with cattle, and to make a fresh start. To do this I require the sum of five hundred pounds. I thought that you might not be unwilling to lend me the money." And if I refuse ?" Your honour will scarcely do that." But if I should ?" Ah, senor, my conscience is always bidding me inform the senora Juanita St. Rosa of the manner of her husband's death. And since she also left her estates to come to you, since she is witbinfour miles of us, I feel that I must obey this prompting that I find within me. But, of course, if I had this money, and were out of the country, I could so easily forget the matter and keep my tongue still." Quite so," said Brandon reflectively. You indeed appear to have fallen on hard times. Your ambition to return to Chili and make a new start is an excellent one, my friend, and does you credit. As to the little matter of this money, why that should be easily arranged." Gonsalez was all smiles. Let us cease speaking of my affairs for a moment," continued Brandon. I have no wish to alarm you, but I could not help noticing a certain catch in your breath as you- were talking, which appeared to me to point to heart trouble. Permit me to apply my stethoscope to the region in question." Gonsalez, a look of concern upon his face, bared his chest. The doctor leaned forward, then smiled and drew back. Ah," said he quietly, "that scar over the right lung. It looks as if a pistol ball had entered there." The other changed colour. What do you mean ?" he stammered. Your conversation, my friend, is so much better than your composition; that red beard is so obviously unreal; it is so very unlikely that a mere cattle-driver would cross the seas to come and blackmail me; and, lastly, the scar on your right breast marks the exact spot where, acting in a blind fury, I shot Andrea St. Rosa. I am so glad that that fellow did not die, since a weight is now removed from my conscience. I am so glad to see him before me, in this very room." There was a very long silence, the two men regarding one another intently. The doctor, self- possessed, master of the situation, returned the other's stare of malevolence with a quiet smile. St. Rosa spoke first. Well, what then ?" said he in a choking voice. I, too, have a duty to consider: whether or no I shall hand you over to the police. We both have tender consciences, it seems. Yet since I did you a real wrong when, provoked beyond endurance, I almost succeeded in killing you- And for which you shall pay with your life Brandon saw the blade flash, and the next instant the man Was upon him. A dreadful struggle ensued. The doctor caught the descend- ing arm, and with the knife's point an inch from his throat he strove to force his antagonist back. The men were matched in strength. They staggered round the narrow limits of the room, their deep breathing sounding as the gasps of conflicting wild animals. Once St. Rosa wrenched his right arm free, and stabbed furiously. Brandon avoided the thrust by springing backward. Then the other, cursing savagely, rushed at him again, but was floored by a terrific blow between the eyes. He was up immediately, and once more they closed, only to fall together, rolling over and over in that mad struggle. Suddenly the door was hurled open, and there ran into the room a police officer. He was followed by Nita St. Rosa, who screamed as she perceived the, two men fighting for each other's life. The combatants separated as if by mutual con- sent. They could scarcely breathe for exhaustion. The Chilian's false beard had fallen from his chin He glared at Nita as the officer held him by the collar. Said Brandon, as soon as he could speak, Nita, you meet your husband-in strange circum- stances." Why, what do you mean ?" she replied, be- wildered. "My husband?" Is not this man he?" demanded the doctor, equally Astonished. Why, what is this that you are believing? This man is Pedro Gonsalez St. Rosa, my late husband's cousin, and a villain The whole truth was contained in those words. Andrea St. Rosa really had been killed in an attempt to break from prison, and his daring relative, aware of the attachment between Nita and Ambrose Brandon, had soon afterwards im- posed upon the doctor with a lie as flagrant as it had proved consequent of so much mischief and trouble. The timely interruption which had probably saved Brandon's life was due to the faet that whom Nita left the doctor's house a few hours back she recognised in the lounger in the street the worthless Pedro Gonsalez, whose feeble dis- guise was not sufficient to protect him from the watchful eyes of a suspicious woman,. She followed him in a cab, discovered Ms abode, and that evening went to his lodging in order to learn from him what he was doing in London. She heard, with alarm, the sounds of a dispute between him and Brandon, summoned assistance, and showed herself in the nick of time. Brandon, though deeply chagrined that his credulity had made him the dupe of a rascal, was too overjoyad at his enlightenment to nourish any bitterness. St. Rosa was sent back to Chili; but he returned as penniless as when he came, and with the somewhat comfortless knowledge that the doctor, after all, had married the woman of hia heart.
TIBET MISSION. PROCRASTINATION OF THE LAMAS. Colonel Younghusband has, according to "The Times" special correspondent at Gyangtse) re- ceived a letter from the Amban proposing to visit that place in three weeks' time. The courier states that the Amban is suggesting one of the temporary Lbasan councillors as his Tibe- tan colleague. Considering that Lhasa is only four days' post from Gyangtse, the delay in answering Colonel Younghusband's letter from Tuna, the known inability of the Amban to commit the Dalai Lama by any negotiations, and the total inadequacy of the proposed representa- tives of Tibet, it seems clear that the Amban has been compelled by the Dalai Lama once more to try the old policy of procrastination in spite of recent events. The Dalai Lama's action in degrading and im- prisoning all four Shopes, or Councillors, who were responsible and trusted men, and substitut- ing creatures of his own without weight or posi- tion has rendered the necessity of transacting negotiations with the highest authorities more urgent than before, and the nominating of a man of straw to accompany the Amban-if the visit of the latter is really intended-merely em- phasises the need of a strong attitude in dealing with the present crisis in order to avoid the ultimate necessity of carrying British policy through in less advantageous circumstances add at a greatly increased cost of men and money, perhaps also with, certainty of decisive success. But the known policy of the Tibetans suggests that the present move is nothing more than their latest attempt to gain time in the hope of receiving Russian assistance-a consideration which it is impossible wholly to ignore in view of the known assistance previously tendered. The situation still demands serious attention. The courier also states that there is little excitement or dismay in Lhasa at the prospect of British advance, since the Tibetans know, after their experience of the moderation and friendliness we have exercised hitherto, that no harm will be done to them. A small force only is nominally holding the road to Lhasa. DEATHS AMONG COMBATANTS AND CAMP FOLLOWERS. The Chinese Amban has written (according to a Chalu message) that he will be at Gyangtse to open negotiations in three weeks' time. Mr. Brodrick stated in the House of Com- mons on Monday that the Tibet Mission had not advanced beyond Gyangtse, nor had any com- munications been received from the Dalai Lama. It was not in the public interest to state what steps would be taken in the event of the negotia- tions at Gyangtse breaking down. The Government of India reported thirty-five deaths among combatants and forty-five among followers and coolies from sickness and frost- bite. Cases of frost-bite were given approxi- mately as sixty-one among combatants and sixty- eight among others. The Government of India I held that, considering the altitude and the ex- ceptional severity of the winter, mortality and sickness were wonderfully low, thanks to a liberal supply of warm clothing and extra rations. The general health had been fair to good, com- batants suffering more than followers, owing to night duties. The health of the force was now good.
MISSING MILLIONS. THE MYSTERIOUS MR. BARING REMAINS A MYSTERY. At, the opening of his trial at the Old Bailey Captain Edwin Gordon MacCrae Short, who obtained money by representing that he was coming into an inheritance under the will of a Mr. Baring, a reputed millionaire, complained that he had been Dreyfused." In sentencing him to five years' penal servitude on Tuesday, Mr. Justice Darling said that the trial did not compare to that of Dreyfus, but resembled rather the Humbert case. The prisoner had been guilty of a fraud of a most contemptible character, and it served to show that if a person was only bold enough to tell an improbable story he could easily get somebody to believe him. To support his story of the mysterious Mr. Baring, whose Christian name was George, and who was half-brother to Lord Revelstoke, the prisoner, when the trial was resumed on Tuesday, called his wife as witness. She said that she had seen Mr. Baring at Eastbourne as recently as last Monday, when he was leaving for the North. For 60 years Mr. Baring had been known as Robinson, and went to Australia under that name. In 1901 and 1902 he had stayed at Warrior-square, Hastings. In further evidence she said that Mr. William James Baring Robinson was her godfather, and she had great expectations from him. She met Captain Short 12 years ago. Some money was borrowed from a gentleman, but not on Mr. Baring's name. Mr. Baring was greatly offended by Captain Short allowing the "Times" to send him out to Armenia, and for several years he had nothing to do with Captain Short. However, through intervention, Mr. Baring had agreed to allow her and her sisters a private income. Mr. Muir (for the Treasury) Where did he make his fortune ?-Australia, He left there 16 years ago. Was he known to anyone else as Mr. Baring ?— To the outside world as James Robinson. In spite of Mr. Muir's suggestion that she was giving perjured evidence, Mrs. Short declined to relieve herself from the imputation by stating the number of the house in Warrior-square, Hastings, at which she said Mr. Baring had lived. Mr. Muir: Is there any person you can call into court who can say that Mr. Baring exii;tb ?- There are many who' can say that they have seen him. Can you furnish their names and addresses ?-I am desired by Mr. Baring to do no such thing. Then there are no such persons." With much vehemence Mrs. Short replied, "There are." The prisoner himself then gave evidence on oath. While being sworn he kissed the Testament dramatically and, turning to the jury, said, The truth, the whole truth." He admitted that he knew that Mr. Baring had no connection with the firm of that name, but he knew that just before the" crash" his Mr. Baring saw the late Lord Revelstoke and advised him to invest in Argentines; but Lord Revelstoke did not do so, and that was in a great measure the cause of the Baring smash. Examined by Mr. Muir, Captain Short said he believed Mr. Baring to be a Baring, although his wife stated that he had also gone under the name of Robinson. Mr. Baring was angry with him for divulging certain matters. The Judge: I should not be troubled about his ahger. I do not pee any signs of it. To the very last the prisoner persisted in his story of the mysterious Baring, and urged that if he were given time he might possibly be able to get him to come into court on his behalf. The jury having found him guilty, Mr. Justice Darling passed the sentence of five years' penal servitude.
The youth Sipido, who attempted to shoot King Edward four years ago, has been drawn for conscription. He is still in Ghent peniten- tiary, but will be released if he decides to join the army. A committee has been formed in Dublin for the purpose of erecting a worthy monument to the poet Thomas Moore in the place of the mean and ugly statue which now stands in College- street,
-:ïiIi I EPITOME OF NEWS. Pike County (says a Kansas newspaper) gloried &L the distinction of having the most luxurious crop of whiskers in the United States. The crop adorns the fertile chin of Vol. Tapley, a farmer, and is more than lift, in length. When Tapley wants to exhibit his hirsute appendage in all its glory, he takes it from his vest, where he commonly keeps it, attaches the loose end of it. to the hinge of a door, and then backs off until it becomes taut. Lord Midleton, Mr. Brodrick's father, is very short-sigh tedi, and occasionally gets into diffi- culties through it. He was once travelling to town with a friend, and there was also a very stout old ladly in the carriage. The friend wishedf to have a confidential chat, and moved opposite to Lord Midleton, who exclaimed: "Wait a biti and, let me put this bundle of rugs on the rack, and he actually caught the astonished old .1I!d)j round the waist before he discovered his mistake. The miners at the town of Thurber, after going on strike, instead of trying to make their employers listen to reason by picketing orthei more usual methods, one and all deserted that town and started off to look for other fields of energy, thereby reducing a once flourishing towni to solitude. One has sometimes heard off employers who have threatened to remove their works from a particular town, but this reversing of the order of things is surely novel. Master Max Durewski, the latest "wonder child," who has recently been exciting the admira-t tion of the musical world, is not only claimed to be the youngest conductor in the world, having attained but the a,ge of eight years; he is alset one of the increasing band of composers. A! valse of his composition, entitled "Le Beve," said to have been conceived in his fifth year, before he knew a single note, has already made its appearance, and he is now reported to hava completed a "march." The German Emperor's speeches are always, taken down by his own special shorthand writer", otherwise it would chance at many places that no one could be found capable of reproducing them verbatim. His Majesty starts at about 260- syllables a minute, but, warming to. his subject, approaches, and occasionally exceeds, 350, which makes it pretty warm work for the reporter. One of the oddest clubs in the world! is thafi founded1 in America by a German lady for the. benefit of widows and widowers. It is art ordinary social club, to which admittance itft restricted to those who have lost husband ora wife. At first the club existed only for widows,- who met together, toldi their sorrows, and sym- pathised with each other. After a time a. resola- tion was' passed extending the benefits of the club, to widowers. The widowers gratefully responded, and now several of the members hav& joined the ranks of the married again. An eloquent argument in favour of the, move- ment for safer custody of old parish registers is suggested by a statement of the Rev. Carltonr Olive, rector of Warleggan, near Bodmin. Mr., Olive says that he, found the old registers of his parish—dating from 1547-used to stop rat-holesi while the iron chest in which they should have been kept, had' been converted by some convivial predecessor into a receptacle for empty bo-ttleg li The value of old registers lies not so much inr the ordinary entries as in the notes of passing events formerly inserted by their gossipy cus- todians. Thus, in the register of St. Nicholas, Durham, it is noted that on August 8, 1592, fiver mien "were hanged for being Egyptians." Thia grim entry throws more lurid light on thosec "spacious times" than many a tedious volume of the modern "scientific" historians. The cleansing and painting of the Forthl Bridge is a work which cannot be left to Nature., The bridge presents a cleansable and paintable surface of twenty-five acres, and no fewer tha.J): thirty-five men are kept constantly employed in* scouring it And coating it with oxide and red1 lead. The task is a perennial one, in that ifc can never be said to be finally completed). The., little band of workers start operations at its southern end in the early spring of every thirds year, and thirty-six months later, when they,, reach its northern extremity, a mile and a fifth; farther on, they have to, go back and begin over again. In the meantime they have used 250 tons of paint, while the oil with which it is mixed! would fill a cistern having the capacity of 35,000s gallons. Blone-setting, of which the late Professor Atkinson was the acknowledged master, is a, profession particularly flourishing in Lancashire and Yorkshire. Each district has its famous bone-setter—a man f no medical schooling andt little book education, but. curiously handling of bones and sinews. As a rule, heo, makes no pretensions to medical knowledge, but, confines himself strictly to surgical cases. Very famous as bone-setters were the Taylors, of" Whitworth, near Rochdale. Tlurty years ago they were known far and wide as the "Whitworus, Doctors," and were, visited by patients from al& parts. The first of the family was a blacksmiths and farrier, who won celebrity by his skill in doctoring horses. Thence he gradually driftedf into repairing mishaps, setting bones., and rectifying club feet with great success. Admiral Ito, who earned his viscountcy fop services in the Chino-Japanese War, is very European in his methods. A story is told rather against him when the- Japanese landed a force after the Battle of the Yalu. Shortly after hia establishment he was one diay annoyed by the receipt of a telegram from a subordinate whom he had allowed off on furlough, which read:) "Will not report to-day as expected on account of unavoidable circumstances." The tone of the message was not at all to Admiral Ito's mind', and he wired at once in reply, "Report as expected, or give reasons." Within an hour the following message came over the wires from, auk hospital in Yokosuka: "Train off-can't ride. Legs off-can't walk. Will not report unless you insist." The Admiral did not insist. Dr. Paget, the only bishop on the new Ecclesias- tical Disorders Commission, was known to all Oxford men before he assumed the mitre as Dean of Christ Church, in which capacity, although the strictest disciplinarian, he enjoyed great respect and popularity. Even the angry controversy which raged round the expulsion of the metnbera of the Bullingdon Club in 1894 did not diminish; in the least the regard felt for their Dean by the members of the House. Dr. Paget himself in hi9 undergradiuate days was once very nearly in serious trouble. He was poetic in his youth, and loved to listen to the nightingales in Sagley Wood. On one occasion he stayed out of doorgi long after due hours. He was reported, and next morning had to face a visit to the Dean. Had- it not been for his blameless character and the appeal to his tutor, the future Bishop of Oxfordl would) have been "sent down." Dr. Pafet dis- putes with Dr. Talbot the credit of being thfli •Jlest bishop. This proud position is generally accorded to Lord Fitzwilliam's Yorkshire seat, Wentwortb Woodhouse. Of this house it is said that the three principal entrances are so far distant from each other that visitors are advised to brmg three hats with them, one to be kept at each point of egress. A house which is 600ft. long,, has a hall in which two average suburban villas could be comfortably placed, and boasts a room for every two days of the year, is certainly large enough to satisfy any reasonable ambition. Fine voices, it is said, are seldom found in ft country where fish or meat diet prevails. Those Italians who eat the most fish (those of Naples and Genoa) have few fine singers amongt The sweet voices are found in the Irish, worajen of the country, and not of the towns. Norway is not a country of singers, because th-ey ett too much fish; but Sweden is a country of gr and song. The carnivorous birds croak; grain- eating birds sing. The women who delight in wearing jewels_aft now informed that in order to get the ooso effects from the stones they must wear on yj those that match their eyes. The girl WIW» orbs that have a tint of yellow is self exclusively to yellow topazes and The blue-eyed women are buying turquoises. Solitaire diamonds are only allowed to the black- eyed damsels, while rowxv rose, and yeUow- tinted brilliants are all the especml property of the matron whose glance is deep and dark as midnight." To brown-eyed women red gems are recommended as beir- most suitable;