Lincoln County leader., February 01, 1907, Image 3

The Minister's Wife
By MRS. HENRY WOOD
ceitful strength, bat it put hope Into the
heart of Mr. Baumgarten.
"Ryle, If he should live, you will al
ways be kind to him?".
"Edith I Kind to him ! Oh, my wife,
in
"you do not tell me that you forgive the
past. Grace, say but one word j say you
love me !"
"Far deeper than another ever did,"
she murmured. "Oh, Kyle! I will be
more to you than she can have been !"
"Grace, pardon my folly," he Implored.
"I am doing wrong; I have forgotten my
self strangely. Forgive, forgive me! It
is madness to aspire to you. I have no
, , rigbt to seek to drag you down from
I your rank to my level."
CHAPTER VII. (Continued.) I in the carriage. "I must congratulate , Bne clung to him still. "Your own
Later In the dav she seemed a little you upon getting Into the rectory. You ,: own dear wife," she whispered.
better ; it was the rallying of the spirit paid the cost of the repairs yourseu, i "Ryie Ryie ; only love me forever.'
before departure. She knew It was do- believe."
les. I had some money left me un
expectedly, and used It for the purpose.
"Well, I am glad you're in it. Good-
day."
Mr. Baumgarten paid his first visit to
my wife," he uttered, with a burst of Avon House on the following day. Lady '
Irrepressible emotion, "you must not go, I Grace was alone in the room when he
and leave him and me." I entered. Her countenance flushed crlm-
She waited until he was calmer ; she son, and then grew deadly pale.
was far more collected than he. Mr. Baumgarten took her hand, almost
"You will love him?" she reiterated, In compassion; he thought she must be
faintly; "you will always protect him ill. "What has been the matter?" he ln
agalnat the world's unkindness?" quired.
"Ay ; that I swear to you," he ardently "The matter I Nothing," and she grew
replied. And Edith Baumgarten breathed crimson again. "Is your visit to mamma?
a sigh of relief, and quietly lay back npon Do you wish to see her?" .
her pillow. I am here by appointment with Lady
Her voice, hardly to be heard at all, Avon."
was growing fainter and fainter. Her The countess came Into the room, and
husband thought it must be the faintness Grace found that his visits were to be
attendant on death ; but for a short time frequent.
he seemed to sleep. ' From that day they saw a great deal
He sat on : his arm beneath her neck, of each other. Lady Grace strove to arm
bis other hand held one of her hands. All herself against him ; she called up pride,
was still ; so still that the ticking of anger and many other adjuncts, false as
Edith's watch, lying on the dressing ta- they were vain, for the heart is ever true
blc, was audible. About ten minutes bad to itself, and will 'be heard. It ended in
thus passed when a slight cry from the her struggling no longer; In her giving
Infant in the next room, followed Dy tne herself up, once more, to the bliss of lov-
coothing hush of the nurse, fell upon Mr. ing him unchecked.
Laumgaripu g ear. Did he give himself cp to the 9!W7i, ny
"Ryle! Rvle!" way of reciprocity? Not of loving her;
"My dear?" he breathed, vexed that her no, It had not come to It; but he did
leep should have' been disturbed. I yield to the charm of liking her, of find-
"I have been in that dream again ing pleasure in her society, of wishing to
.going on my long, long journey, she said 1 be more frequently at Avon House.
In disjointed syllables. "Oh, Ryle, I know The Hon. and Rev. Wilfred Elliotsen,
It now ; it is the journey of death. claiming a dead earl for a father and a
"My dear -wife!" he cried, much dis-1 live earl for a brother, was not, of course,
tressed. la light whose beams could be hid under
"The air is oh, so sweet and the light a bushel, more particularly as the live
at the far end so bright and lovely and earl was In the cabinet. . It therefore sur
the flowers look at the flowers I they are prised no one that when the excellent old
the flowers of Heaven ! and and oh, Bishop of Barkaway was gathered to his
look ! look " fathers and a lucky canon, who held one
The tone, growing inaudible, had taken I of the best livings In the kingdom, was
a glad sound of ecstasy j and with the promoted to his miter, Mr. Elliotsen
last word, the spirit passed away. should step Into the canon's shoes, rich
After the funeral of Mrs. Baumgarten living and all. This left Great Whitton
the parish flocked to Whitton Cottage to vacant. As luck, or the opposite, chanc
condole with their rector, and to see the I ed to have it, Lord Avon was on a few
baby. He received them with quiet cour- days visit to his mother when Mr. El
tesy, but the most sanguine sympathizers Hot sen received his appointment.
could not detect any encouragement for "Don't put such another as Elliotsen
a renewal of the visit. All that could into Great Whitton, Henry," observed the
make life pleasant to Mr. Baumgarten countess to her son, "or we Bhall have
was as yet buried In the grave of Edith, the parish In rebellion."
Gradually he began to take notice of "He haa not succeeded In pleasing his
the child; at first he had avoided him. flock yet, then?" remarked his lordshin.
The old servant, Dinah, who had lived "Give it to Mr. Baumgarten. He Is a
with the Danes for "years, took charge of deserving man, Henry; he will restore
ilm. Mr. Baumgarten would sometimes peace to the parish, and as a preacher
nave bim on his knee now, and soon loved few excel him.
him with an impassioned fondness. He Lord Avon laughed a little as he aat
bad nothing else to love. down to face the sofa,
Thus the months glided on to winter; "Why. mother. Baumearten is the verv
the rector fulfilling all his duties as of man I had in my own mind. I thought
yore, out leading a very lonely me. by your preamble you must have fixed on
some one else. I would rather he had It
CHAPTER VIII. than any other person in the world,
One bright, frosty day in January, can tell you that the smart the last con
Never had Lady Avon seen or suspect
ed aught of the case regarding her daugh
ter and Mr. Baumgarten.
The revelation came upon her with a
blow. It was Grace who, calling up her
courage, imparted It. Lady Avon went
Into a storm of anger; and then, finding
her commands and reproaches produced
no Impression upon Grace for good, wrote
in haste for Lord Avon,
An awful thing had happened, and he
must come without a moment's delay, was
what she curtly wrote; and the word
awful," be it understood, was In those
days used only in its extreme sense, not,
as at present, in ridiculous lightness. Lord
Avon obeyed.
"Ah," he remarked, as he sat listening
to his mother's tale. I can now under
stand that past capricious trick Grace
played. She must even then have been
love with Baumgarten."
Lady Avon sat in bitter mortification.
"What is to be done?" she asked.
"The best plan, so far as I can see, will
be to put a good face upon it, and let
her have him."
"Do you approve of him for your broth
er-in-law, pray?"
"No, not altogether. My sister and
your daughter ought to have made a very
when the icicles shone in the sun and the tretemps brought me lingers yet. Let it
blue sky was cloudless, the open carriage be Baumgarten ; we owe him a recom
of Lady Avon drew np at the rectory pense.
gate. After the marriage of Mr. Baum- And that very day the earl, afraid, pos-
garten Lady Avon had occasionally at- sibly, .of fresh interference, personally. of
tended Little Whitton church bb hereto- fered Great Whitton to Mr. Baumgar-
xore, but kady urace never. she bad al- ten, and shook hands on its acceptance,
ways excuses ready, and her mother That same evening Mr. Baumgarten
who had never fathomed, or even suspect- presented himself at Avon House. Grace
d the true cause of Grace's caprice as Carmel was standing amid the rose trees
to the living put faith in them. The she liked to linger in the open air at the
countess declined to alight, and Mr. dusk hour, to watch the stars come out.
Baumgarten went out to the gate. and to think of him. But that she wore
"W ould it be troubling you very much, a white dress, he might not have distin
Mr. Baumgarten, to come to Avon House guished her In the fading twilight He
occasionally and pass an hour with me? left the open path to Join her.
began she, as they shook hands. "It Is a late visit. Lady Grace, which
"Certainly not, If you wish it," he re- I must apologize for ; I was called out to
plied. "If I can render you any service a sick friend as I was starting, and de
I Bhall be very happy to come." tained an hour," he said; "but I could
Lady Avon lowered her voice and Dent not resist coming to say a word of grati
toward him. "I am not happy in my tude to Lord Avon."
mna, rsaumgarien ; not easy, xne ..Y, ilf . n.v. u. .v.
present world is passing away from me. Mr Baumgarten for brother
and I know little of the one I am enter- TT. ,.,. V,.,
i t ,w ui,. f. one- left before doinner upon some
U7L . v. Vl: IT: . I matter of urgent business in town. Mam
Y anion ; ue uwb uul buii uio ; uui wuu . -.. t . . ... .
T , , . . t u 11 v . . . I ma says she is very glad that you will be
you I feel at home. I shall be obliged t ,., " '
to you to come up once or twice a week
and pass a ouiet hour with me." Perhaps I have to thank you for this,
"I will do so. But I hope you find a8..m.ucn " Vord Avon- he 8ald'
nothing more than usual the matter with
your health."
"Time will prove," replied Lady Avon.
"now Is your little boy?"
"He gets on famously; he Is a brave
little fellow," returned Mr. Baumgarten,
his eyes brightening. "Would you like
to see him? I will have him brought
out."
"I should like to see him, yei; but I
will come in."
He helped her from the low carriage,
No ; no, indeed ; it was mamma who
spoke to Henry; or he to her; they ar-
ranged It between them. I I-
"What?" he whispered.
"I did not spenk to him," she contin
ued, filling up the pause of hesitation
That is all I was going to say."
But Mr. Baumgarten did not fail to de
tect how agitated she was. Her trembling
nands were busy with the rose trees,
though she could scarcely distinguish
buds from leaves. Mr. Baumearten took
o.o w hi. .rm im th n.K .J one hand, nd placing It, within his own
the most comfortable chair by the parlor Rrm- bent down his face Until It was on
. I. - . .... ..la Intra! n rh hara Irrt na UA
fire. The child was brougnt in by Dinah --"" - - u ...nercu,
rH hnho In hla front and have we misunderstood each other?"
hUok rlhhons. the latter worn in memorv She c0"11 not "I11. her lips turn
of his mother. ea wane wnn ner emotion, it was the
Ladv Avon took him on her knee. nour 01 01188 81,8 nna 80 lon& dreamed of,
"lie will resemble vou ." she said, sonri- Grace, he continued, In a tone of im
filtiir hia face : "he has vour eves exactlv. passioned tenderness, have we loved each
Wn and dark" and she had nearlv add- other through the past, and did I mistake
H "heautiful." The child Dut his hand ray feelings? Oh, Grace, my best-beloved
npon her ermine boa. , i torgive me i orgive my lolly and my
"My pretty boy I" she exclaimed, fond- """""ess i
ly. "What Is his name?" With a plaintive cry of satisfied yearn
"Cyras. I know it would have pleased Ing, such as may escape from one who
Edith to have him named after her fath- suddenly finds a long-sought-for resting
r. place, Urace (Jarmel turned to his em
"Ah ! Poor Edith I" sighed Lady Avon, brace. He held her to him : he covered
aa she gave the child back to Dinah, and her face with Impassioned kisses, as he
arose. "Not: the least distressing feature had once covered Edith Dane's : he whis-
f that loss was Its suddenness. I wished pered all that man can whisper of poetry
I could nave come over to say larewen. and tenderness. She wu silent from
Mr. Baumgarten sighed In answer, as excess of bliss, but the felt that aba could
be again gave his arm to Lady Avon. By have lain where she was forever.
the way," she said, aa be .was settling ber I "You do not apeak," he Jealously said
WViro - w.
-iir."0-'
t Lime and Plant Food.
Lime enters Into the composition of
all plants, but Its value depends more
upon Its tendency to' hasten chemical
action In the soil rather than upon Its
use as food for plants, and whether the
soil is light or heavy, sterile or fertile,
there Is some change Introduced by
lime when applied to the land. Its ten
dency Is to work downward, for which
reason It Is advantageous to apply a
small quantity each year after the first
application, beginning with twenty
bushels per acre on light soils and
thirty bushels on heavy land ; but even
ten bushels will show some results, as
lime fits the soil for the presence of
micro-organisms which perform an im
portant function when providing plant
different match. But you know what taoi aa a"::l!!nc condition of Hip anil
Grace Is, mother ; and circumstances alter
cases.
It was the plan pursued. It was the
only pleasant plan, as Lord Avon had
put it, that could be pursued. For Lady
Grace held to her own will, and opposi
tion would only have created scandal.
CHAPTER IX.
It was a long, red brick house, large
and handsome, as many of these-country
rectories are; and on the spacious front
lawn, one glorious morning at the end of
June, might be seen the Rev. Ryle Baum
garten, his wife and children. Lady
Grace sat on a bench under the shade of
the lime trees ; the rector stood by, talk
ing with her. Two little boys were run
ning about chasing a yellow butterfly.
They were dressed alike, after the fashion
of the day, In brown holland blouses,
white socks, shoes and broad-brimmed
straw hats.
They were wonderfully alike, these two
little half-brothers, each possessing his
father's face in miniature; the same pale,
healthy complexion, the fine, clear-cut
features, the dark eyes so deeply eet with-
In their long lashes, and the wavy brown
hair, soft as silk. But in disposition they
were quite different. Cyras was bold, self
willed, masterful, Charles gentle, pliant
and timid. Cyraa was tall and strong,
and forward beyond his years ; the young-
er one was yielding, childish and back
ward. Already Cyras constituted himself
his brother's protector, and Charles in
his hands was a tender reed. The affec
tion between them was great, rather un
usually so.
Some people had prophesied that Lady
Grace would repent her imprudent mar
riage. They proved to be wrong. Grace
was intensely happy in it. She had
brought with her only five hundred a year
to augment Mr. Baumgarten s means ;
It was all she would enjoy until Lord
Avon's death. She made a fairly kind
stepmother to the little Cyras, but she
had not the same affection, for him as for
Charles. Her baby, now in Jaquet's
arms, was a fair girl, the little Gertrude,
A large, low, open carnage, driven by
liveried postilion, was stopping at the
gate. Mr. Baumgarten hastened to assist
Lady Avon from It, and give her his arm,
She walked slowly to the bench where her
daughter was sitting. She was just the
same invalid as ever, had been so all these
years ; but she did not seem to grow much
worse. The boys ran up to her.
"The boys are like their father, Grace,"
she observed, looking down at the infant
"but Gertrude is like you."
"Yes," assented Grace, with' a laugh,
"Well," mamma, that Is just as It should
be, Isn't it?"
"I suppose It is, my dear. Which of
you little boys will go for a drive with
me? It must be you, Cyras, I think, as
It is your birthday.
"Oh, yes, yes!" cried the boy, eagerly
"I will go. Jaquet, fetch my best hat."
"Me,1 too," added little Charley.
"No, I can't manage both of you," said
Lady Avon, "lou shall go another day,
Charley; perhaps to-morrow."
"My hat, Jaquet !" again said Cyras,
Impatiently, for the girl had not stirred,
Lady Grace looked at her.
"Do you hear?" she said, In her haugh
ty way. - "Master Cyras told ybu to fetch
his hat Bring his little cape as well."
Now this was just what Jaquet hated,
For Cyras to order her about imperious
ly, and for her lady to confirm It.
"Ryle," said Lady Avon to her aon-in
law, when Jaquet had gone for the things.
"can you not do something or other to
put down that fair?
She spoke of a pleasure fair which was
held every midsummer on Whitton Com
mon, and lasted for a week.
The rector shook his head In answer.
"Why, no; how could I, Lady Avon?"
"You have great Influence In the parish,
Every one looks up to you."
"But I have none over the fair. No
one has. It possesses 'vested interests,
you know," added Mr. Baumgarten, laugh'
Ing, and they are too strong to be in
terfered with. I try to Induce my peopls
to keep away from It, that Is all 1 can
do."
(To be continued.).
being sometimes necessary, especially
for clover. As carbonic acid Is largely
generated by the decomposition of veg
etable matter In the soil, the applica
tion of lime creates many changes.
chemically, In which other mineral and
organic substances are broken up In
their combinations, rendering soluble
many Inert materials that could not be
employed as plant food, but which ex
1st In the soil abundantly. While lime
is not, therefore, a necessary adjunct
to the soil with other fertilizers, and
gives but little benefit to the crop It
self, yet Its Indirect action unlocks
stores of materials, and supplies the
crops with available fertilizers. Th
action of lime In the soil Is nearly al
ways beneficial, and farmers who have
used lime seldom discard It It gives
the best results on soils that contain
large proportions of vegetable matter,
and It releases stores of plant foods for
the use of crops.
Keeping tne Cider Sweet.
The keeping of cider as sweet as pos
sible represents another important task
In connection with this product Sassa
fras bark, or ground cinnamon, are
among the preservatives most used In
rural homes. In cities the taste Is oft
en spoiled by too much preservatives.
Left to Itself, sweet cider soon becomes
hard. Hard cider Is Intoxicating, and,
on account of the difficulty In determin
ing Just when alcohol begins to enter
Into sweet cider many temperance peo
ple are Inclined to put the ban on all
cider.
Vinegar Is obtained by placing bar
rels of elder In the sun or In a warm
cellar. The bungholes of the barrels
are always left open. Mother of vine
gar Is put Into each barrel In small
quantities, and helps In the transforma
tion of cider to vinegar. A very large
per cent of the cider that comes from
the present-day cider mill Is eventually
turned Into vinegar.
It is a fact not appreciated by every
one that the quality of cider, and the
other products of the cider as well, is
dependent upon the kind of npples that
are used. Those people who Insist on
u::!ng the scrubs of the orchard for
cider cannot expect the best results.
In some states upples are grown espe
cially for cider. A ripe apple and one
that Is particularly full of Juice will
make better cider, better Jelly and bet
ter apple butter than ones that do not
possess these qualities. Among the
common varieties of npples the Bald
win Is much desired for the cider mill.
Farmers and Poultry Fanciers,
The farmer has a real grievance
against the poultry fancier, In that he
has-done all of his crossing and in
breeding of fathers, daughters, uncles
and aunts without any regard to prac
tical utility, says Farming. Whether
the hens from which he has been breed
ing were producing sixty eggs a year
or 200 made no difference. His whole
aim has been to breed out a foul flight
feather or two, or to a create a better
comb, or eyes of a better tint, at a
sueriflce of everything else. The result
Is that when a farmer goes Into the
market to buy thoroughbreds with his
money In his pocket, ready and willing
to pay for the best stock, he not only
often pays for qualities he does not
need, but actually pays a premium for
something that has been obtained at a
sacrifice of the very qualities which he
does need. There are a few men, how
ever, raising thoroughbred stock that Is
"bred to lay," or to meet certain mar
ket demands, and those are the men
that should be patronized.
Value of Sheep aa lileauera.
Turn sheep almost anywhere on the
farm, In the stubble field, the corn
field, around the buildings, In the gar
den after everything has been harvest
ed, anywhere else that there are weeds
or feed of any kind that will be wast
ed If they do not eat It. The sheep
will not only make satisfactory gains
and return a good profit on the money
Invested, but they will add greatly to
the appearance of the place and de
crease materially the weed crop an
other year. Sheep will eat weeds and
clean up rough feed that no other
stock will, and feeder sheep make very
satisfactory gains.
All-Aroond Valaea In Aahea.
Ashes are commonly valued by farm
ers for the potash which they are sup
posed to contain. According to recent
experiments In Europe, It appears that
the phosphoric ncld In the nshes Is
also more valuable than Its quantity
would Indicate, since even that part
which does not dissolve In water is
nevertheless easily taken up by plants.
The lime In ashes' Is also of value,
more so than generally supposed, when
used on land Inclined to be sour.
The Great American lien.
gome one has figured that the Amer
ican hen each year earns enough to buy
all the sliver and gold dug out of the
mines, all the sheep In the country and
their wool and leave a balance equal to
the entire year's crop of rye, barley,
buckwheat and potatoes. Or, as a hen
enthusiast writes, "She pays the Inter
est on all the farm mortgages, pays the
entire state and county taxes of- the
.vhole Union, and then leaves a balance
orge enough to give every man, woman
ind child In the Uultcd States a dol-
lar."
Getting; Down to Bnalneaa Dairying.
The first Dairy Test Association In
New England was organized a few days
ago at Durham, N. H., under direction
of the Experiment Station workers.
The membership Is made up of pro
gressive dairy farmers. The object Is
to co-operate In getting records which
show the quality of milk In the various
herds and the cost of feeding. The as
sociation will engage an agent to do
the testing and each member will pay
his part of the expense. The plan has
been found to work successfully In
other parts of the country and enabled
dairymen to flrtd out Just what their
herds are doing and what changes are
needed. The experiment stations of
New Hampshire, Vermont and Maine,
It Is understood, will encourage the
formation of these associations In all
dairy sections.
Keep the Hcna at Work.
To prevent disease keep the hens at
work by making them scratch for their
grain food. Overfeeding is the cause
of bowel diseases In the summer, or,
rather, too much concentrated food Is
given, and not enough of thut which Is
bulky. If the quarters are kept clean
there Is little danger of contagious dis
ease unless an addition Is made to the
flock by bringing a bird from some
other farm. When "new blood" Is
wanted procure a sitting of eggs of the
breed desired, as It Is very Important
that when the coops are clean, and the
fowls free from disease, no fowls from
other places be Introduced, as a flock
may thus be stocked with lice or In
fected with disease.
The, Asparnarna I'ett,
Kindly Insects help In the destruc
tion of the asparagus pest. The lady
bug, some snake feeders, or dragon
flies, and wasps and the splned and
bordered soldier bug all these eat the
larvae of this beetle. Ducks and chick
ens are fond of them. Air slacked
lime dusted on the dew wet leaves
destroys the pest, or the ends of the
branches where they congregate may
be cut and burned. The same reme- '
dies hold good for the spotted beetle,
but his favorite place of hiding is In
the berry, so these should be cut and
burned as fast as they form.
CnolInK the Milk.
Immediately after the milk Is sop.
nrnted the cream should be cooled
down to the temperature of good cold
well water. This can be done by set
ting the cream can In a tub of water
and stirring the cream until It Is of
the same temperature as the water.
The water must be changed occasion
ally to keep the creum at this tem
perature until ready for shipping. It
does no particular good to cool th
cream and then allow It to becoma
warm again before shipping.
Seir Wheat Popular In Went.
The exports of Durum or macaroa
wheat amounted to nearly 10,000,000
bushels last year. A great part of
this wheat went to ports In France
and Italy, to be used for the manu
facture of macaroni. The millers ol
the United States are gradually learn.
Ing to combine this wheat with othei
grades In the manufacture of flour.
The wheat Is very bard and cannot bt
ground with ordinary mill machinery,
but It Is claimed to make a very nu
tritious and excellent flour.