DARE HE? reivaledly trav«r«.d last night. h» is re- head-but b.ica.j^ they have got mto levad to team from the hotel servantji such a habit of leaning, that it is no hat the yountf man >« m hia bea-room. bnger possible to them U) stand up- ."nda him there indeed; no longer, nght. He had nt-ver reallze.j tin now s retched m the blessed oblivion of deep how helpless tney are. He had kno^vn sl^ upon h.s bed. but sitling on a hard that An^ia ^v J the plrot u^„ whIS -hair by Uieopcn window, hw arms rest-' (he whole family turned: but ^ had not 33SS OR, A SAD LIFE STORY h CH.Vl'lIiR XXVlll.â€" ;Conlmuoa). Fop .1 moment Jim slamls dumb with ccnsternalioa al the aniioiiiieciiient of this intention ; but, rellaUnn thai it xtould not b« a whit more irrational to attempt to reason with ajnndniaii wlio fend reached the padded-rouiii stage of lunacy, than with his pre.s<^iit eouipan- ion, he contents himself willi ^aying : "And su(ipo3iiig that you d-i ii'>t learn tr -night where she has gone ."' 'There is no u.se in suppfising any- llung iu impossible !" But as the houi-s go by. the pos.-vil;)ilily becomes a prnbabilily. ih.? [)robaliility a corlainty ! Midnight coiiifc.. uiid the closed tclograph-^llice puts a linal ex- tuiguistKT upon the expectation, winch no one but ttve unhappy lover had ever entertained, ttiat Florence would be eii- litshleiied before the dawn of aiiolhor day as lo ttje place whither tier two truants have lied. Burgoyue has accoinpaniod iiis friend Ufon his last iniporlunalo visit to the now-going-to-bcd and justly-inceiisiHi 14 Bis. He has been ashamed again to pre- sent himself at lheso-otten-(iltai'l\it.ldijiir, s<j hiis w;iit4»d at the bottom of the sinirs, bas heard Byng's hoarse query, and the negativeâ€" curler and less suave than the last oneâ€" that follows it ; has lieaitl tli'> «k;or shut again, and the Impeltsa foot- steps that coin^ staggering down to tiini. **Vou will g.j ivime now 1" " 'Pei-chance, lago, I shall ne'er go tiome !' " replies Byng; and, though he is com- pelled to admit that there is no longer any possibility of his to-nighl obtaining ttic infonnation for which he so madly tiungers, that there can con-sequently be no ((uestion of his setting off by one of the early traizLs. since he would iwt know In which du'oction to go, and might only tv lleeiug furllier from her whom he would fain rejoin, yet he still keeps with tevored pertinacity to his project of spending the night a la belle etoile. Finding it impossible to di-ssuade him. Jim i-esigns himselt lo (waring him com- pany. 11 is with very little reluctance tlial he does s<,i. There is no truer truKin than Itial all »oitows, however muuii- taiiwus, are more easily carried under Gods high iv)<if Uian man's low onts, and hJ who does not sleep has far compensa- tion ttial at least he can have no drcad- hil waking. So the two men wiiiuler about all night in the boon s<iutheni air. There are not many hours of u sum- mers night during which the stir of life has ceased and has not yel reiiwukeil in an Italian town, the talk and Hie iivad and the mulebelts. and the Mules of the voiceful people lasting on till near the Bniall hours, and beginning ngam ere those hours have had strength lo grow big. But yet there is a space of time when Florence lies silent, baring her beauty to the constellations alone ; and under this unfamiliar and solemn and lovely aspect the two niglit-wanderei-s •ce her. They see her Campanile "Commencing with the skies," with no distracting human bustle al»ul Wr feet; ttiey see her Pei-seus hattailing benealh her Loggia, and her S<ui tliorgio standing wakeful at his post on Or san Michele. Tliey sec her smiling palace rows, her stealing river, and her .si>an- ning bridges â€" palaces out of which no hcful i>eeps, a river on which no Ixial oars, bridges upon which no horse-hoof rings. They have all hei" churcluvs â€" Suiila Gt\ve, Arnolpho's great "Bride," that new Maria that is now (our huii- dnxl years old ajid nwi-e, the humbly glorious San Maa-oâ€" lo themselves; all her liva.sure iKuises, ail her memories, all her Hower-emtwhned air â€" for a few hours tliey [Mjssess Ihem all. .she is but a Ulllc city, this fair Firenze. and ui tlioie few Iwure tliey ti-averse lier in h«»r length and breadtti, rambling aimlessly wUeivver Byng's feverishly iiii>oi'nlile im- pulses lead them. Burgoyne dflers no opposition to any of these, but accoin- punies his friend sik-nlly down slum- brous tlHjroughfares. or acivss sleeping Piu/za. by .Anio sitle, und«»r colonnade or arch. It is all one lo him ; nor is he sensible of any fatigue, wh<Mi at length. at about tlio hour when Byng had iiK'aut tj have caught the early muniing train, lliey ivturii lo the hotel, and the yoimger man, happily dead-beat at last, \\\<ni out with want Of foixl, Itvirs, and weariness, flings himself down. dress<\l, upon his bod, and instantly falls luio a louden Sleep. Jim feete no desire, nor iiuK>o».l any power, of following his example. Ho is iKit easily lireti, and his former life of travel and haiiL-iliip has made him al- ways willing to dispense wi:h tin' â€" lo himâ€" unnci-essury luxury of a Ixil ; aiul. under oixJinary ciromnstaiices, a night pas,sed in the open air would have had ail effect ui>on him i-athcr exhilaraling than oIIkm- wise, lie has hvs twih, dit>.ss- es. breaktttsls, and then jumps iiilo u llucie. and has himself driven lo the .\nglo-.\inericain. The day is .so exactly Iho aiuiilujuirl ol its pre«loces.sor, iii its oviii as-»iirixl S|>laidor. thai Jim has a hazy feeling that Ihey both make only one dividea into two parts b,\ the narrow dai"k blue riliKin of the exi|uisile brief night. W hen did yesleiMay end and Ui-diiy bo- ein if A.s h« in burno along, his iiiciiK>r> , ng upon the back, and his fac^ cnuhed brought home to himself how utterly the lown uD,-m lh«n_ Rv tin .l,.t,t«t n.ov^. I ^^^hine fell to pieces when that pivot made mon' alert by sleeplessness, repro- ducesâ€" merely, as it seems to him, tlie belter to liii him with pain and remorse â€"the diftcii;nt states of mind in which he ha«l passed over the often troilden gruiuid. Mere, at the street corner, what a nausea had come over hint at the thought of the interest tie would havo lo feign in tho.se humdrum details, so dear I" \ine\i:i's soul, of ttveir futun? menage, with all iU candle-end economies and depressing restrictions. Here, in the iliupch stiadow. how he had tried to loish hiiiLself up into a more probable ssem- blaiice of pleasure in her expecletl and dreaded caresses. Tliere seems lo be scarcely an inch of Ihe way when he has not had sijme harsh or weary Iht^ught of lur; he is thankful when the brief tran- sit, that has appeared lo him so long, is over. .Vnd yet tlie change is only from till" sharp sling of recollccteiJ unliind- ni^ses to the dull bruising ache of anti- ripatixl ill. -A gnrcon is sweeping out the salmi, for Uie h<iur is yet much t)eyond eight, so Jim goes into the dreary little dining-room, wlifre two placi-s ai-e laid wilh coffee-<.'ui« and ixjils. Only two. And. ItKjugh he knows that nothing short of a miracle could have already re- .skred Amelia so completely as to enable her lo Come down lo breakfast, yet the ocular detnonslralion of the fact thai her place is and uill be empty, strikes a chill to his b<>ding heart. He is presently joined by Cecilia, wlni.se carelessly- dressed hair, heavy eyelids, and tired puffy face, sutHciently show that not to her, any more than to himself, has night brought "Sweet child->leep, the filniy-eyed." "Ik)w fresh and cool you are T' she cries, with an almost reproachful inton- ation. "Do not look at me !"â€" covering her fa»n» with her hot handsâ€" "I am not fit to be .st-en ; but what does that nia!- t.T? What do I cure ?"â€" beginning lo cryâ€" "Oh. slic is .so bad ! We have spent such a dreadful night ! .As I tell you, I am a shocking sick-nurse ; I never kmiw what to do : I' lose my head completely ; and she lia,s been so oddâ€" slie has iMien talking such gibberish V "Delirioiis T" "Yos, 1 suppose that is what you would cull it. I never saw anytwdy de- lirious before, so I do not know. I have seen .Sybilla in hysterics, but 1 never Iw- lievcd that they were realâ€" 1 always thought that a bucket o( water would bring iKT round." As a general rule, Jim may be counted upon for cordial co-operation in any hit directed against Sybilla, but now Ive is to* spiritless even to notice it. "I was so frightened,"' crii):iiues Ce- cilia; "it is not cheerful bemy nlj'alone at tlie dead of night wilh a p. r-jn talk- ing, such nonsense as she wii'-. .\niclia, ••<( all people, lo lalk noiisense ! I could ii.-:! make out quite what it was about, but It seemed lo liav e more or less refor- enc* to you. She was begging you to furgive her for something she had done, as tar as I could gather ; some treat she had prepared for you, and that you had not liketl. Have you the least idea what she could have meant'.*" Me has every idea ; but it would .seem pnifanation to explain that her f>oor wandering brain is sliU distrcssedly liiboring witJi the abortive project she had so happily franKxi for his cnjoy- meiil. "She iji quieter now. .Sybilla's maid is with her ; Sybilla really has not be- havetl badlyâ€" for her ; she let her maid look in several t'imes during Ihe nii^ht : but stilt, fur the most part I was alone with her! Oh, I do trust 'â€"shudderingâ€" "that I may never again have to lu- alone av night with a pen$oQ who is not n^M in hec head T' --- ^ This aspiraUon on Uie part of the youngest Miss Wilson us, for Ihe pr.>senl occasion, al lea.sl. likely to be gi-atillct.1 ; for, by the lime that another night set- tles down on Florence, Amelia's illtioss lias been declared by IV. Coldstream lo have every symplom of devetoping iulo Ibe nialui-.oiis Florentine fever, which ni.t unlrequenlly la.vs low tlie chilUxl or ovei'-faligued, or geiMH-ally imprudent foreign visitor to that little Eden. Aim-lia has Floi-entine fever ; and the verilica- lion of this fact is followed by all live panipliernalia of serious sickness -nij^ht and day iiui'ses, di.<infeclaiils, physic phials. The aniwuitcoiiienl of her being at- tacked by a detliiilc and recognized dis- ease brin>{s al Ill's! a sort of relief to r.urgoyno's mind, which, under Cecilia's fuglilened and frightening woixl-pic- liues, had been Usel by terrors great in pri.porlion to their vagueness. Now that Aiiielia is confes-seilly sick uf a fever. tliort- is nothing abnormal In her being "iHtd." and 'stupid," and "waikleiing," these being only the inevitable stages on a ixiad whicti wiltâ€" wtiich must lead to ultiiiiate recovery. Hits heart M heavy, yel scaively so heavy as it had lH>en upon irs arrival in the iiiurning. when, late in till- altermxjnâ€"mil sot-nor d«.> the claiois upon him of the distirganizixl and tielp- l«>i.s family of his bctrotheil relax he re- lui^is U> the Minerva to look alter Byng. Having had «very iwi'son to fear that he will nul lind hiiii at the hotel, but will K' oliligett again to set off in pursuit of h.in Ihivugh the slnwla and •quitres tM down up<}n them. By no »lifhlest move ment does he show coasciousness of his friend's entrance. * "I am afraid I have been a long time away," says the latter kindly. . "Have you ?" aa^wers Byng. his voice coming muffled through lip.s still buried i.'i his own coat-sleeve. "I do not know; I have done with time '" "I do not know how you have man- aged that." rejoins Jim, still indulgently, though a shadt? drily. "Have you been here all day?" "I do not know where I have l)een. Yes, "â€"lifting his headâ€" "I do ; I have been to the Piazza d'.Azcglio." "Well r "They know where she is. They were packing her things : through the door I saw Ihem tying the label on the box ; if I had tritxl I could have read the ad- dress on the label, but I did not. .She hod fortiiikien them lo give it to me ; in her telegram she had forbidden them to give it lo anyone." was withdrawn. iTo be continued). CHAPTER XXl.X. Jim refrains from saying Iww likely this culmination of hi;* friends woes has ai.peured to him. since it would have been the height of tlie illogical for Ihe I.': Mai-chanls to have put tlninselves to e-xtivnie inconvenience in ordt'r lo escape from a person to whom they immediately atterwanls gave the power of following Ihem. He refrains from saying it. be- cause he knows of how very little con- .sohng power the "told you so" philoso- phy is piiss^Bsed. "\iid what will you do now?" "Do: What is there lo do? What dues a man do wtjen he is shot through the heart ?" "I believe that in point of fact Iw jumps his own height in the air. I know that a Buffalo does," repUes Bur- gi yne. wilh a malter-of-fact dnncss, wliich proceeds less from want of sym- pathy, than from an honest belief that it ii Uie best and kindest method of deal- iiiK with Bvngs heroics. • "Shot through the heart !" munnurs the latter, repealing his >J«n phrase as it ^___ ^^^ ^^ hMoiindadisnml pleasure md. I had, ^^,^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ always been told Uiat it wa.s a painieaa de^illi ; I now know to Uie contrary." "Shall you slay liere? There is no li.nger anv use in your staying here." "There is no longer any usi- in my do- ing anything, or leaving anylliing un- done. AP{'LV1.\>; FAP.M M.V.\Lnt. A generation ago it was U»e usual prac- tice, in handluig manure, to haul it from the barnyard lo the field when con- venient, pile It there m small heaps, end leav.i it in these h^aps until the time came to plow tlie land, when the manure was scattered just ahead of the piow and turned under as quickly as possible, llie idea Icing that the di-ying of the manure would cause the larger part of its virtue to be lost, writes Charles E. Th'ime. Few farmers of that day knew that the pungent, but invLsible gus escap- ing from the manure heap wiis. in fact. its mest valuaWe c«jn.s:ituent. The majority did not know that this gas was constantly t>eing fonued. so lung I4S the manure lay in moist heaps, and vas as Constantly passing from the heaps into llw air; they did not know- that Ihe drying of the manure look away f^ijni it only water, leaving all the actu- al plant foiid behind, and that, in fact, the c«implele removal of the water would leave tlie manure in better coiidi- I'.on for pn.'servalion than before. We ni;w kiKiw that the decomposition of manure can only take place in the pre-setice of inoUluiv; that if we can Withdraw all moisture the residue will preserve its fertilizing ipmiities indell- niiely. and that when the motslure is evajxjrateil from the manure heaps it carries wilh it none of these fertilizing <|ualities. but goes into the atmosphere simply as walery vap(>r. Everybody kiHjws that when brine is evaporaled al! the sail is '.eft behind, and Uiis is equally Inie of the manure "Thoi-e's iwthing in this world can make me joy. Life is as tediotjs as a twice- told tale. Vexing the dull ear of • drowsy man." " .St> saying, he replaces his head upon h:,< arms, and his arm-s upon the chair- j rail, with the air of one wlio. upon nia-j lure consideration, h;w decided to main- Uiin that athlude for tlie remainder of his life. A week, has passed; a week upon which Bnrgoyne looks back as u(xin a blur of wretchedness, with distinct points of pain sticking up here and then- out of it. It is a blur ; for it is a time-space, willioul the usual limitations and divisions of time; a week not cut up into orderly lengths of day and night, but in which tnich has puzzlingly run into and overlappetl each other. There tiave been nights wheh he has not been in bed at all, and there have beeii days when he has slept heavily at unaccus- lomed hours. He ha^ not dined al any pariicular time; he has shared fortom breakfasts, doited aNiiil the morning, as the less or more anxieljfc about .\melia diclateil. with the Wilsons. He has ways in which manure loses its value. Thesi- arc leaching by rain and the heat- ing which accompnnies chemical action. \Vh<>n IIk" maiuu-e is heaped in the Held Uith these agi>ncies begin their action. The ruin falls up«)n the heap and washes It;: more valuable constituents int«'> the ground inimediateiy under and ar»)und the heap, and chemical, or more pro- ptriy. bacterial action begins in the iieup. lilieralitig its nitrogen and oju- vrrting its ph: isph'.-r<uis and fwta-ssiiim ink) moi-e soluble forms lo be washed down by Ihe next slKwer. Of all tlie ways in which manuiv is o\er handler!, thetvfoie, this old way uf pulling it in small heaps ui the Held is the most wasteful. U is worse than leaving it under the barn eaves and U-t- l.ng it leach out thetv, beciause of Ihe wasl« of labor involved in hauling it lo the field, and because t.'ie excess of fertilizing material washed mto the soil under Ihe manure heaps is an actual injury to the soil, if the heaps be per- mittetl to lie for any time. The over- gi-uwlh of lodged and haif-lllled grain over such spots ought to be sullicienf !o convince any man of the mistake < f such a method, and yet thei* aiv thou- sands of farmers wlw still follow it. If we vkould but stop and i-ellecl that fully lialf the potential fertilizing value cf the manure, as it is voided by the animal, is found in the sails dissolved in the liquid portion: that the full effei-t <if neither the soil nor the liquid por- tion can be realized except when used in comiection with each other: that when drunk more tea Ihan he ever did in his 1 (he liquid is pi-rmitted to How away in life before, and Iho i-esull of this whole |U.,, stable or yard or where it is dis- condition of things is. that he cannol for pi^^ed bv ram' and sepai-aled from the Uv; life of him tell whetlwr Ihe day of Ihe week is Wexiuesday, or Thursday, or Fri- day, and that he has lost all sense of pity (xirtion. He has not the least idea whe- ther Ihe di-eudfirl inomenis when Iw stood on Iho landing outside Amelia's door, and heard lH?r heart-reuderingly beg hmi not lo go away from her for i^^.j (jj^. i;q„^,| ly .ibundanl .aKs,irbenLs quite so long, lo be a little gladder lo see her when became back ; or again affect- ingly assure him that she can do quite well, be quile clKWful wilhtnit him, whether. I say, lho.se dreadful moments weiv really only monieuts, or stretched into hours. B<>skl«>i the agony of i-emorse Ihat the inipoleiil listening to those piithelic prayers and utisellish assurances cause him, he suffers t'lo from anothei- agony oi .shame, thai ttie father and stster, slaiidmg. like himself with eai-s .streU.-lk'd al that shut door, should be let into the long stvret of his cruelty and cokliiess, that secivl, which for eight years slie has s.i galUuitly l»vn hiding. It is an in- evuie^sible rei.ef lo him thai at least the old man's thiekenetl lieuring admits, but very impoi'fivtiy, his daughler's rapid ullerancos. "Poor soul ! I cannot quile make out what it is all alHUil," he says, with his hand to his ear; "but 1 catch your name over and over again, Jim ; I supix** it i> all alwut you." Cecilia, liowever. naturally liears as well as he himself does, and appaivntly pitying the diiiwn misery of liLs face, wliispers to him aimfortingly- "You must iKd mind, vvu know it is ali nonsenst>. She lalk.< very dittereiitly wlicii she is well." The Wilcon family liavt' novor hiihcrto slwwii any very nuiiked affection for Bnrgoyne. but now it se«'ms tis if Ihey oculd hardly bear huii out of their sight. They chug to him not lHXMii.se Ik' i.-i he Jail niake^ hiiu.>el( no itiiision on that sclid portion, whether in yard ur Held, it carries with it these fertilizing salts: but that when, !t is merely evapvirated they are lefl behind and slilt combined wdh ttxise ol Ihe .stilid portion, it would b<' easy to realize thai the on*' ,«»nd only right way lo handle manure is to col- gel it to the lield where il.>. effect is wiin'eJ as pnimpllv as p.xssible. spread it there at once and as perfvlly .is pos- sible, and then let sunsliiiie and rain do their work, .'^iiiishine will evajxirate the water, but that only, and the rain which follows will re-dissolve the sails and wash them into Ihe enliiv surface of tlie sfiil where IIh^v are need»?d, and not simply into little spots here and there. VALUE OF THE M.VM'RE Sf^RFADER. When we come to understand the na- ture and value of maiiur»\ Ihe iieixl <{ Ihoroujih dislribulioii becjiiies apparent. When it i< spread with Ihe fork lliea' will inevitably be lumps in one place and bare Sjxds in anolfier. Ihus losing part of Ihe vK'ssible effect in one place by excess and in another by deilcieiicy. it is true Ihat Ihe dislribulion of manure that has been spread with Ihe fork may bo very much improved bv following with Ihe siiKHithing hariMw. but even with this extra labor Ihe wurk cami.il be s<i we'l done as wilh Iho iranurc -S'.'n-ndv r. ,\iKdher great adviuilngc in I'o ma- K'.ire sHieader is that it is always ready f< r its special purjio-se. and ili-rt-'ore llie manuis- is much nun- likely lo be di'awii pr iiio'lv lo the Held tb.m if a wai.on. I'sixl rhiefty f<!r il'ier purjk ses. must be g«i| rsvly (•:â- this job evei\v tiiiH' a lol of iitanuif i : to b? movitl. .Nil <>iry r* U'anuit- il:slribu'e<l iror>> n 'iforni'y ' y th' si»ii (ider than by hathl, but the w<irk is- d-ire ir.'.-f clieuply. I With llie steadily increasing cofft ^l !•- bor It becomes i:«nstantly mow in»- portant lo devis.; means for gtibiUtuting ! thv labor of hors«a for ttiaf of men, I and with tiie spreader a team will un- . load a tan of manure in a small fraction j of the lime that would b« required to : do it by hand. (.Considering the oonvenience, the per- lectMi and th* economy of its work, I believe that the manure spreader should be ranked next to Ihe automatic harves- ter m inTportance as a farm implement. .Many farmers fear that if they spread manuie on frozen ground, especially on hillsides, it will be in danger of being vvashcJ away by the spring freshets; but ciay is a powerful absorbent, and the rain that would carry away Ihe fertiliz' ing salts of the manure would very soon thaw the surface of llie .s.)il so that it would extract thev! .salts fnom the water passing over it. .\dmilting that there may b» occasion- al .small losses frjm this source, such I-.sses lii-e unquestionably insignilicant, as compared with llwse which occur in llie average barnyard, or m the small manure heaps in the field. Thirty years ago the wxiler was in ci'arge -jf a large farm on whfch a con- siderable quantity of manure was pro- duced. This manure was collected througiiout !he winter in a basin shap- ed yard, where it was permitted to ii« uniil August, when il was drawn out and spread at once a« a top-dressing upon land that had teen plowed for wh<:nt. This method represented the practice of the best farmers of that period. .V practice wiiich is by no means obsoVe to-day. There were several apparently Tery go-jd reasons for the practice. In th« first place, .\ugust was a convenient sea- son f'jr manure hauling, harvest being over, and as cb-serving farmers had learned t.he ^ alue of a short summer fol- low tiie stubbles had l)een plowed lor the next wheat cr>3p. so that it was a time of comparative leisure. In addition to this was tlie fact, that the manurtt had had several months in which to rot, so thre was oonsidorable 'ess of it ta tandle Ihan there would have b««i ear- lier in the season. This practice was an advance upon thai which had prevailed at an earlier date, wiien the manure was piled in heaps m the field and spread in ai^ vance of the plow, for the latter method permitted earlier plowing, thus gaining the benefit <jf the sh<irl fallow, and it •iso left the manure wlier« it was ol ; soma advantage as a shelter to the wheat ' plants Itiruugh the winter and as a ferti- ; lizer lor the young grass followmg tha j wtieat. In one of th? expenmenti of lUe Ohia ' expcrunenl station one plot receives I manure applied as a top-dressmg to i coni and wheat m a live-year mtatKMI â- of com. ija4s. wht'Ht. clover and linio- j l!iy. the muiui.-e lj«>ing used at Hi.: rata I of eight tons per acre m eacti ease »ud being open yard manii'-e. tfvaled as m the practice above described. thiLs fot- iowing ctosety u tneilHxl whidi has been and sii'l i» a very' common one. lliis ; experiment has L^ecn in progti'ss for IS j years, and the result has been an aver- I age increase per acre for the Hrst ten i years of T t-2 ba><hels wheat and a lit- ; He more than 15 bushels corn per acre. ; On tlie same fanu and on ground of the samd ehaiacier. another cxperinwnt has been in progress for ten years, u« which manure has been applied at th* same rale per acre lo coru in a three- i year rotation of corn, wheat and clov- Ur. In !his lost one plot tias re<;eived : manure which has b«'en in an open Dain- yard during the winter, while an ad- joining plot has been treated with ma- nure taken directly from I'n" stabia to tlie fleld without exposure to the wea- j ther. I The result has been a ten-year aver- I age increase for the open yard manure I of 16 bushels per acre, less than a bush- I el more than that from Ihe same quaa- j lify of similar manure in Ihe longer i»- tationâ€" while tlie fresh manure ha> given ! an average Increase oi ii bushels per j acre, or practically 5i)% more Ihan Itie i yard manure. .Vs we have thixnvn (Xjn- j siderably more than a ton of manui-a i into Iho barnyard for every ton hauled jcut. It will bo seen that the actual dif- j ference has been more than 50%. ! These experiments d<.i not furnish any j dti-ect comparison of the effe>'t of optMi [yard and fiv»li manure in wheat; but j 'II Ihe short r-itafiaii the wheat, wiiich ! eats al sei-ond table after com. luw ! made an average iiii-rease of 8 l-.i bush- { e!c. per aci^ fi-oin the yard manure â€" i o ' a liUle iiK»re than that pixxluced bjr i the direct .ipphration of tli.> .same kind :o' manure lo tti* wheat, wlule that fol- I k''wing Ihe fresh manure has given an increase of !.>\ bushels per acrt\ In other words, a dres.sing of manure which has fiisl been applied to corn has there ptMJuccd a iuri;e increase of crop, has produced a furlluT imrrease in the wheal crop following llie corn, greater than Ihat given by lli» -ame quantity c f manure applied diiei'l to the wheat later on in Ihe sea.-oii. j It Ls evident. Iherefoiv. thai the pro- ; per way to handle the u inter accumit- 1 Uili»>n of manure is lo gel it as pitimpl- i ly OS po.s-sible upon spring cr-^ps. Many j farmei-s have learned this lesS'in, and , li;o practice is steadily inorvasiiig, a!- ti*iiigh there are slill far U» iiiaiiy wl» t'.dhiw Ihe old wasteful method. Yoiing Mrs. Gul^'ox (at her fli^ bivuk- fa.Hl w ilh her ekleily "calch""> : "Yoii eat wilh your knife, don't you. J<ihn, de-.ir?" Old Mr. ('mIiox noticing his opportunity, and Willi .'teverily and dignity) : ".V', [ nrxtain. I do not. lea! wilh my tnouib. I frequenlly CiHivcy f.vxl from inv plaU* to my facial ancHuiv with my knife, but I d*i my own onling with my own e.v- ihi'-.ive nMiiUi. and iinlil further iKdiie I will myself funicsh all Ihe mstnicioiis n-^>|Moting the tuelh'His lo be (Mqi|.>»-oJL"'