HELL CATE, W: ;.r'-: fe ©tef f-O? V*. i ; Jtfo . lA,Wbm deep sunken roe fa of passion hldo Beaoath tho troubled waters of my life! warper than poisoned dart or keonest knife. They rend ana wrack my ships. Upon the tide. Bad aa with blood, my fairest hopes have died. My golden freights,forsaken inthestrlfo, Unheeded lie and ovory wave is rlfo With ruin, wrought by hate, and doubt,and prlda. God saw my need, and knew the remedy, The mighty grief that could my hoart con trol. Bis touch electric, softly, tenderly, Upon my quivering heart In pity stole. One groat convulsion I Thou tho waves swept froo Along the deepened channel of m.v soul. —Susan Marr Spalding. The Actor's Story. t *,j, BV JOHN rOLlMAN. CHATTER IX—Continuer ajl "H'm! Mutiny!" ho growled; "but ■ 1 Uko the lad's spirit und begad, the old beggar shall hnvo it hot!" So |!k saying, he made his way to tho mnn §1 agertal sanctum, whero ho gave IV11 : : lie's message to the autocrat' with 1. . Various verbal embellishments. > • Old M-merely scrutehod his ear - with his pen. and said: "Dear mo! doar mo! a remarkable young man! i, Do you think he means It?" v’.‘ "1 don't think anything about It, 1 Sir; I'm quite sure of It.” "I>onr me. dear mo. What timo does the mall go. to-morrowP" > , "Twelve o' clock. ’ ’ '» *‘Woll, well; como to mo in tho 10 morning at eleven. Meanwhile I'll •loop on It" Novtday, at half past olovoa Jam / leson v?as at the coach ollico with his V - baggage, llo waited until ton tnln ’ Utoa to twelve; thon he booked for London and paid his fare. Twelve o'clock cama. Ho took his i seat on the box beside tho driver, tho guard blew bis horn, tho driver 1’our if~ ished his whip; and was about to ‘‘ - etart when lo! down Leith Walk f ■ came tho captain, puffing and blow v log like a gampus. Waving his liat ‘ and his handkerchief, ho culled out ;*/ tStop! stop!” fi'~ The driver pulled up exclaiming, ' '’What's the row nowP" _ "Nothing," gasped the captain, I. ' ’but you. sir. Mr. Jamlo.son. come down. 1 want you!" ) , "Too late. captain. ” repltod Willie. • "Drive on. Coachy.'1 ^ "But I toll you it's all right!" ivroared the cuptuin. "Hamlet or uolhlng," said Jainio v--- ton. [:i. "Oh! Hamlet Othollcv Macboth— *" . the whole lot of thorn; only como dowa. * IV ;. ’On your honor, sir?” • . ‘On my honor as a gentleman!” vV "All right!” and Willie sprung !'■>" down liko a ".J-yenr-old." Seizing bis carpot bag, ho spun over tv half crown (almost tho lust ho had left) to . the guard, and returned triumphantly V., to tho theater, whore tho boys struck •>. OH "See tho Couriering Horo • * Cornea" to the Intense annoyance of '! Old M-, who couldn't avoid hear *v ' log this spontanuous outburst of musical mutiny. • 'The following Monday Jamieson , opened In "Hamlot,” and was rc ooivod with very great enthusiasm by b crowded house. A call boforo tho curtain was thon not so cheap an V' ' honor as it U nowadays, and whQn at ,V tho end of tho play ho was callod for* |.i ward ho was more than delighted. », Just as he was about to muko his V, os It a lady seated in the private box ;; to his right throw him a laurol , Wreath, and disappeared as If by *' magia Although he had barely time • to catch a glimpse of her palo face '• and flashing eyea he recognized the ;J mysterious lady of tho pony chaise at Aberdeen. As soon as ho left tho ^ stage his qutek eyo detected a card which was attached by a piece of gibbon. On one side, these words *■ Woro written in a bold, but feminine g V hand: "You told mo once should I over need a friend. I might roly on you. 1 need one now.” u On the other side was’engraved i ' 'Alisa Flora McAllister, ' . i. Athol House; ” Below was wrlttea i "At home to-morrow from twelve to ave." —■>. : ' CHAPTER X. f ‘ Athol House. ■ ’ The morrow's post brought Jacnlo (A' ton a letter from Curly, describing . his impressions of London—of the i'.'v! theatre, the company, etc. Tho gen ■ , oral tone was elate and confident and V/ he wound up by stating that his debut was fixed for the following Monday, and that he was to open as Doricouru At noon Jamieson presented him-I v Self at Athol House—one of those ! wonderful old places twelve or four- j teen stories high, the like of which is to be seen nowhere but in "Auld ;.A Reekie." Its historical memories Ay. went back I don't know how long; ,T 1 * but the very room into which he was shown had once been inhabited by QA; the Recent Murray, afterward by Ay " Cluverhousa. and the • great marquis f; himself." P A it was now in semi-darkness—the blinds were all down. The atmos v. phere was so gloomy and depressing g'; that he couldn’t bear it. so he pulled Ay up the curtains and let in the blessed sunshine. Looking through the win “ dow. he contemplated the wonderful picture be.ore him. The valley smil i tng at his feet, where now the rail y ■ way runs; to the left the castle and §A ■ the castle gardens; to his right Holy Jv.; rood and Arthur's seat Nearer y y stood the Calton Mill; a litt’.e to the •Vy . left of that lay Leith, with the blue s Eirth'beyond; right in front of him Prince’s street and New Tuwn. The Abbotsford monument which 3 had only recently spruce into exis tence stood forth conspicuous, as it A. glittered in the sunlight It was a A glorious panorama There was no A: city in the world more beautiful than A’ . bonn’.e Edinburgh; but be had had pfey ample time to explore aud admire its r,: v;. bcautlos during the fortnight, bo presently ho lurned away to look at the room. Hare books lay on the tablo, n fow choice pictures wore on tho wnlls. objects of art were scat tered about In ovary direction. To his loft, catching the light from tho opposite window, stood a painter's easel, supporting a picture covered by an Indian shawl. On two or three stools were palettes. colors, brushes, and other implements of the studio. His curiosity was excited bv tho covered picture, so ho stepped forward, and romovod tho ohawl. It droppod from his hands as he ex claimed. "Curly!" '1 ho painting was not qulto finished, but tho resem blance was so life liko you almost ex pectod to sno poor Donald start from tho canvas—to hear him spoak! Whilo Willlo stood lost In contem plation nsolt low voles murmured, as if in rosponse to his unspoken thoughts. "Considering that it is oniy painted from memory, It is not a bad likeness, is it Mr. Jamieson?" Turning round he saw 1 loro. Ho bowed, and. dexterously avoiding her I proilered hand, coldly replied: "You wishod to see me, madam, and I am hero." .there was a pause, ion see thoy mot under tho shadow of a misunder standing, and neither one of them know exactly how to begin. She, of course, doomed herself wronged. At one time sho hud made up iter mind thut she never would, never could forgive Curly. Hut after all she was a woman. .Sho was alone in the world now. for her father hnd been dead for somo months. She did not even affect to bewail him, though In defcronco to tho prejudices of so I eioty. sho wore mourning. She was j now froo to think and act for herself. I If Curly could only explain the pa9U | if— Of all her hopes and fears.'of the to-riblo trial through which she and hoc lover had passed, Willie knew nothing, lie only knew that his friend had been cruelly wronged, and then, us ho imagined, troaehorously abandoned by tho woman ho loved. On tho other hand, It must be rernom bered that it was she who had most reason to think hersolf deserted and betrayed. 1! os ides, she was in total ignoranco of what hnd occurred to Curly, or indeed what had become of him since their parting, the had scon Willie's name announced at tho thuatro, anu sho felt convinced that if any man know Curly’s whereabouts | Wllllo Jamieson was that man. She j remembered, top tho promise of tho | latter on the night of jhe elopemeut. j llonoe it occprrod to her as an Inspir ation to Invito him to come and see her. Ho had accepted her invitation, certainly, but he might apparently as well have been in Aberdeen, so cold and distant did he seem. ! “Mr. Jamieson." sho said, ‘you ! onco told mo that should I need a j friond. 1 might rely on you.” j “I did. but many things have hap ! penod since that night. You were j then about to bocome the wife of the | man whom you have siuse so cruelly j ubandonod.” I “Stop sir," sho said, “one mo jment,"and she went rapidly to an escritoire at the other side o: tho ! room, and taking out the fatal paper with Curly’s signature, she continued, •■bo'oro you speak further, perhaps you had better read this.” Jamieson read it. Then exclaimed: •My God! What does It all mean?” ••That is the question I ask myself by day. on my bended knees, by night, on my sleepless pillow—but I answer never comes. 1 thought pos ‘ slbly you might bavo been able to ex ! plain." | “I know less. Miss M’Allister, than you know yoursoir. After you left Aberdeen together I never even heard from him. until the day after I last saw you. Tho next morning brought me a message from him. An hour later. I was on my way to Dundee. where I found him in the Infirmary_ how. I have not the heart to tell you.” and he broke down utterly. It was astonishing how calm she remained till ho had recovered him self. then he resumed, and told her e\ci-ywung wuicu mo reader Knows already. It was her turn then. She wept one moment und chafed the next with clenched hands and set teeth she strode to and fro. as she ex claimed: ••The villain! the cowardly, das tardly villain. Oh! that I were a man for your sake Daniel Deemp- j ster!” ••Don't you waste your breath on that gentleman—leave him to me!” said Jamieson. "^>ow if you please^ Miss M1 Allister. we are friends hence forth. so give me your hand. ” Sho extended it frankly, and he kissed it reverently. •■Since the time I told you of,” he continued, ‘your name has never passed between ua but 1 know the poor fellow loves you still, dearer than life.* ••If he loved me could he— could he have done this shamo ful thing? And to call God to witness it too! Ob! the coward! the coward.’’ ••We must take human nature as we find it. God help him. if he is a coward, and God help me. for I can love him none the less. Do you love him less than 1 do? ’ ••1 did love him once mere than all the world, but oh! Mr. Jamieson. ’’ ; she exclaimed, ••the M’Allisters have \ held their own in flood and field since i Scotland was a nation. And a cow ard! t.h! 1 can’t bear it” And she cast herself on the couch, and wept ; bitterly. Then she got up and pointed j to the pictura j • -Look there ” she said, "does that | look like a coward!” i "Xft” Willis replied, ‘and I don't | believe he is a coward, but there are j moments when the bravest man loses heart Tell me ono thing: were they ‘ not armed?" ••Yes; they both had loaded pistols. ” "And of course he was unarmed, defenseless! Can't you see?—they would have slain hlin llioro and then, bad he not signed that miserable pa per. ISesidoa they worked upon hi* fours for yea and in a moment of weakness ho yielded to their lnfanywa throats." ••He ought not to have yielded— death, anything but dishonor. I would have avenged him first and bewailed him after." It was Willie's turn to wait now. When she had softenod down a little he showed her u letter he had recoivod that morning. At tne vory sight of the well known hand her heart leaped with joy; he was alive—he still loved her—all was forgotteii, forgiven. Jamieson asked her permission to writo to Curley to explain that he had soeu her. but she bogged him to loivvo her to tako hor own course, which slio did, with results to be hereafter stated. . CHAPTER XL The Fatal Anniversary. Meanwhilo Curly was busy with hi* rehearsals in town. At length came the debut. All through the earlier I art of the play he impressed the uudience most favorably, and each succeeding act conlirmed the impres sion. The minuet in the masquerade sceno was danced by him with such supple elegance that lie completed!! is conquest of the capricious public. The ladles wore in raptures with the new comedian, and even the men were unwillingly moved to admiration. The debutant's success was assured— a brillinnt futuro lay bofore him. When he returned to his room to make his chauge for the last act a large parcel lay upon his dressing table. He motioned the dresser to un pack It When he had finished chang ing he looked at the contents of the parcel. There was a quantity of fresh flowers* and a letter directed in the hand ho knew so well. His heart, stood still for a moment; then ho took courage. 'There would be a few kind words perhaps; something to give him heart of grace, lie tore open the en velopo. and stood for a moment like a man transformed to stone. Traced in characters of fire he saw the fatal words: “These presents are to attest that Flora M’Alllstor is not my wife; and I call God to witness that neither now nor hereafter will I seek to become her husband. •DOXALD CAMPBELL. ••Dudhope Ferry. May 12, 18—” [TO BE CONTINUED.] She Settled Him, - The lady was undoubtedly angry. She had taken kor seat in a cable car oao crowded afternoon, and was con templating her surroundings with an air of unreserved satisfaction when tho object of her ire entered and stood directly in front of her. He scorned the assistance of tho strap and seemed thoroughly coniideut of main taining his equilibrium under any and all circumstances of cable-car travel. In this, however, he was rudely sur prised by tbe sudden starting of the car, ana stepping backward trod heavi ly on the lady’s dainty shoe. Of course she was angry, but the pain was too much for silent suffering. “Those straps are intended to as sist such peoplo as you." she said. He excused himself, but paid nc heed to the warning and continued to stand in the center of the aisle. At tho next street corner, however, the fellow tripped up and fell against the woman. Rising with the woman's energy sho shouted amid the smiles of a half hundred "passengers; “If you won’t hold on to those straps in the future. I will give you my seat and hold on myself!’’ That ‘settled" him. Large Rata In Small Bottles. Lord Albemarle told Mrs. Beecher Stowe, when she was in England, this story about the Duke of Wellington: Sitting next a lady at dinner, who had a smelling-bottle containing muskthe Duke Is alleged to have said to her: •■in India ladles put musk-rdts into their smelling-bottles.” “They must oe very email rats. teen," the lady observed. "Not at all—about the size of English rats." "Then their smelling-bottles must be very large.” ••Not at all—about tho size of yours." When the gentlemen entered the drawing-room. Lord Fitzroy Somerset whispered to the lady: "You now see the sort of difficulties we have at the Horse Guards; we are required to put very large rats Into very small bottles.”— Argonaut Obliging Official*. When Admiral Shufeldt went to the hermit nation, Corea, to arrange for a treaty. Miss Shufeldt missed a valuable bracelet the theft of which was duly reported to the proper au thorities. Suspicion rested upon two natives, who were taken before the tribunal and subjected to a rigorous examination. The officials found that no incriminating evidence could bo obtained against the suspected cul prits and informed Miss Shufeldt of the fact but added in a spirit of courtesy, that 'if madam wishes, however, we will at once cut off the heads of both men. Gold Diggers of Thibet. The gold diggers of Thibet most of whom are Chinese make air do tho work of water. That is to say, they use the same process by which farm ers used to winnow their grain before fanning mills were iuvented. They lift the baskets containing earth and gold to an elevation and then slowly empty the contents to the ground. A Lonely Little Girl. Elsie, who la the youngest of the family, was entertaining me tho other day. During the conversation she said: "AH the folks who come to our house are so much older than I am." Giving a little sigh she continued: •There seems to be awfully few peo ple seven yean old nowaday s.”— Hartford Post FARM AND HOUSEHOLD. THE ADVANTAGES OP IRRIGA TION IN CROP GROWING. (Titter Available mien Needed—To Keep nillk From Souring—Ilow to Manage Cat Worms— Aboat Tomatoes, Sheep Shearing and Household Helps. Irrigation, The more wo observe tho effects of irrigation as relating to farming and tho production of crops the more wo become convinced of its advantages, and that it might be profitably em ployed in many soctions whore such assistance is unthought of. One j point must be conceded and that is, that moisturo is an absolute neces sity in crop growing, not only to start tho seed into vital activity, but as a medium whoroby the soluble I elementa of nutrition aro conyeycd to the plant itself. While it is truo (hat an excess is objectionable and hurtful, it must at the same time bo romembored, that the want of it, is also fully as damaging to the growth and development of a crop. Tho advantage of using irrigation water is that its offico can bo rogulatod to meet the actual require ments, and if there is sufficient moisture in the * soil to answer tho demand of the crop and hold it in a condition of healthy growth then the irrigation supply neod not bo drawn upon, this is usually the case in the spring after the melting of snow and tho fall of spring rains has occurred, but how often is it the case that as the summer months come on with the attendant hot weather, the sup ply of moisture diminishes and at the same time the demand is rapidly increasing with the increased growth of tho piant; this is the time when an incalculable amount of benefit could bo conferred by an applica tion of water held by storage for that purpose. Wo do not claim that irrigation can be made available in every instance whero it might be needed, but wo believe that there are sections whore a reservoir might be constructed to provent tho waste of surplus water, 'and that might by some effort be diverted, to points whero crops would bo greatly bene titted. We have seen something of tho workings of irrigation in Colo rado and also in California, although wo are aware that the genoral condi tions of climate in both states are unlike most other sections of the country in the fact of having a longer season of no rainfall; but the effects can bo studied equally as well. Even at the East whero rainfall is expected periodically, crops aro fre quently greatly injured by a want of moisture; this is the case in Colorado and California with this difference, there it becomes a certainty but the effects are wholly warded off by means of a sufficient flow of water from some neighboring canal and be cause of this crops are kept continu ally growing and are carried to a state of perfection. It is considered that by a judicious use of water for irrigation, crops of much superior quality and of larger yield are se cured, and this is what nil farmers desire. , The same rule that applies to culti vated crops, such as vegetables, corn, etc., will apply with equal force to grains and grasses, says Coleman's Rural World; a crop of grass may bo very largely increased by a use of water, and this, too, by no addition of fertilizer. In Colorado immense crops of alfalfa are grown through the agency of irrigation and we feel confident that tho same means applied to mowing lands of the Eastern, Middle and Southern states, where possible, would tend to a great ly increased crop of hay. There is little doubt but that the improved agriculture of the future will demand the utilization of the surplus water that now goes to waste. To Keep Milk From Soaring. A man who has had experience in handling milk sent to the Boston market, and who, never had any sour milk returned, recently told an East ern exchange how ho managed to keep milk from souring. He say9 : In the first place the cans need at tention, especial pains being taken to thoroughly cleanse jans and stoppers and place them upon a rack outdoors, to air or sun. They aro not taken to the barn till milking time, and no empty cans are allowed abDut the barn. Particular care is taken to have the udders clean, and the milk, as elean as possible, turned from the milk pail to the strainer pail, and poured through a cloth as well as wire strainer, into the cans and im mediately set into a trough of run ning water; the temperature varying somewhat with the weather, from forty-eight to sixty degrees. The milk is stirred with a long handled spoon at frequent intervals, and left unstopperod over night, but the lid or cover of the trough is closed. The milk is taken from the trough the first thing in the morning and stoppled, and the morning’s milk similarly treated, except the time of remaining in the water has been lim ited to from two to four hours. By this, to explain. 1 mean, at one time we had to get it to the depot at 9 a. m., at [another 7 a. m., by change in routes. It is my opinion that clean milk, placed in clean cans, cooled to sixty degrees at the farm, and placed in a milk car with ice, and reaching Bos ton that day, so that it will reach the consumer for the next day's use, will be found to be perfectly sweet for all uses, if not tampered with by the milkman. I do not believe that such milk needs any of the so-called preserva tives to add to its keeping qualities.* In the absence of running water, where well water had to De used, I should not set the milk into freshly pumped water, because too sudden cooling will separate the cream from the milk while the water of milder temperature will not; but the water should bo renewed after the milk has stood an hour or so at night, and for well water, renewing once a day is sufficient—Journal of Agriculture. How to Mariugtf Cut Worms. ■ A writer tolls the Cali fornia Fruit Grower that he thinks the best way to get rid of cut worms is to poison them. He says: "I use syrup or water well sweetened, mix with plen ty of Paris green and thicken with flour. I cut papers six or eight inches square with a cut over half way through the center, and a cross cut through that to fit around treos or vines then hold them in place with clods and put a few spoonfuls of the mixturo around the treos or vines on the paper. I find plenty of dead cut worms and beetles both on and under the paper. I have not had a chance to try it on canker worms, but I think they would eat it, and it would bo cheaper and better than printer’s ink around the tree. I also protect my young trees with tins that clamp around them. I havo made them six inches high and about three inches in diametar and put them in the ground two or three inches. Cut worms and beetles cannot climb over them, and will not dig under them. Any tinsmith will mako them for ;\bout two cents a piece. I have used the tins sucessfully three seasons.” |Nonsense About Tomatoes. An idea has gained currency dur ing the past few years that the tomato aa an article of diot is liable to produce or encourage the terrible disease of cancer, and not long ago it was stated the use of this vegeta ble had been forbidden at the London cancer hospital. So widely spread had this notion become that Dr. Marsden, chairman of the medical committee of the cancer hospitisl, has thought it advisable to give it official contradiction. He says that his committee has been inundated with letters on this subject, and he begs publication for the following statement, which wo hopo will settle the matter once for all. It is the opinion of the committee “that tomatoes neither predispose nor ex cite cancer formation, and that they are not injurious to those suff&ring from this disease, but on the con trary, are a very wholesome article of diet, particularly so if cooked. Farmer’s Voice. Sheep Shearings. Plenty of bells on tho sheep will frequently scare tho dogs away. If the ewe is not strong and per fect how do we expect a strong and perfect lamb? But some seem to ex pect it. It is likely that flockmasters must depend on mutton productions or give up sheep breeding. It looks that way. It is claimed that sheep that will yield at least six pounds of wool, will double the flockmaster's money in four y<_ars. It would seem that as long as wo do not produce enough mutton or wool for home supply, sheop growing should be profitable. Sheep will bear much neglect, but it is certainly unwise to invest money in an animal simply to see how much neglect it will stand. There is often a black sheep in the flock with a whito fleece. It is the shoep that is good for nothing. That is the kind of individual we apply tho name of black sheep to in a human family. It fils just as well in the Hock. Household Helps. A raw potato dipped in brick dus. is effective for cleaning steel knives. Mildewed clothes may be renewed by soaking the spots in buttermilk and spreading the garments on the grass in the sun. One pint of buttermilk in which a well-beaten egg is stirred will break up any fever in half an hour if not of too long standing. A “friendship garden” is the latest fad for the woman who has a country home or lives in the suburbs. A friendship garden is one in which to grow flowers and shrubs that have been planted by friends and relatives of the owner. A good way to cook liver is to fry it in butter, with an onion cut in small pieces scattered over it. Cook slowly; when done add a lump of butter and a little flour; stir well and turn over the liver. Serve with Sara toga potatoes. Grease stains on a carpet may be effectively treated by applying a mix* ture composed of two ounces of amonia, two ounces white cistile soap, oxe ounce glycerine, one ounce of ether. The soap should be dis solved, first in a pint of water, then the other ingredients and two quarts of water should be added. Another recipe for removing grease spots re quires the application of four table spoonfuls of alcohol to one of salt. To remove the glass stopper from a bottle, tap the neck gently on a hard substance, wood or marble, first on one side, then on the other. This usually serves, but to keep the neck [ well covered with olive oil for an j hour is another plan, and still an j other is to immorse the bottle in hot ; water and let it stand for fifteen I minutes. j Hair brushes should be washed once a week to keep them in a health ful condition. A bit of washing soda should bo dissolved in hot water. The brushes should be dipped in the water bristles downward, the back and handles being kept as free from the water as possible. Ammonia may be used in the same way, but soap is said to ba injurious to the bristles. “GATORed*1 br • Saurian ,h. *»Uu. ■' " tha .... j . TV, *" N"er **.,£*** ‘•Did you ever hear ni4, mule?’ ” asked Mr. rhompson. of New York S? & ^Ll8Tfy home. afte?ayes^01'R Florida for his health. ,p*»‘ k “A ‘gatored mule.’ u. . in Florida, is one of that race which has been driven J*S' insane from an alligator ?.p*rtl»l1j fact, while a mule will stolif^ ** to be thrown off a railroad i.d y nl‘ motive before he move. \ byaloc* a wild state of Tro^ giimpse of a saurian monster “There are hundreds nf mules’ in Florida. To toll it,W ^ ikeip.dto.g.w<,„s;i,'5 did it happen? ™ Ho» “Well, I had been stayhn> at(V.i some weeks, and finally agreed^4 several friends, to go hunCL . south. About twenty rn\\i ,% town we located upon i small stS? abounding in game. After camp I went for a walk and S1”* long found a ’gator hole.; Fr