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ff 5CH-3CH-»«<4-»f»-H«-»-»>»>»f» >O4-»+«mK-H«-H04«-«hHK«WCflCI 5>» 1 A MAN'S REVENGE; OR, THE CONVICT'S DAUGHTER. •«+i5+a+«^<H«4O^CH^at^^O+O>»-^»-f«+J0H^«f«-H5^«t«^»-^ft ^-^ l.^iM.* "t ...^..tl.. I .. 1 r V. , tl . I llllll lUUl lillK-U IJ [Mill Ul^UUMl WMll It tf v^u CvoivC Sim air mT '.' i Jfc-iPP^i'>fnonl.. lor how couUl ho a.k lu vou wore, Mr. >iiiciaii , an uii- ,-;,^,„ , »,„ , i- , „, j nj^u i .able omuwion couiitK-rmt: Iv* I iVf^" '^....'i^b"^.' "'?.?' L.'i'.''* '? CHAPTER Will. "I must congratulate you, Mr. Sinclair. In my opinion .sir Ralph couU iM.t h;ue made ii Iwltor will," said Dr. Timothy Day, llie lawyer, as he look Duucaa'ci hand and wrung it heartily. "Thank you," repli(?d Duncan in a fioniewhal husky vnico. "I feel most grateful to my uncle. .Such a pi'ospcct Jie\er occurcd lo ine. I'm- my uncle's help " "J.s a ra.scal, an unniitiBrrtod spend- thrift ! Sir Ralph never intended leav- Um him anything but what he was oLlifjed Ic. The title, of course, i^ his and ttie land was entailed, but the mon- ey and lliiU Cornwall estate wei-e Sir rtalph's to leave where he pleased. You mtxl tlic money and will husband it carefully. Sir Ralph was a seasible man despite hks deplorable loss of memory. Sljcuid his l>eir dispute the will, lie hfisn't a leg to stand ujxm. I'm dc- li^hl'^i at your good fortune." "Well, I'm not sucli a fool as lo say tliul I'm not pleased. For money was the thing I needed ab<ive all otliei-s." re- plied Duncan, flushing as he remembered SGTiithing he now wanleil even more. "But I wish my uncle hud livoi to enjoy his possessions longer; to marry even, and so leave all to one more worthy of hi.-, nania than Eustace James." Timothy Day nodded approvingly. "No doubt, no doubt," lie muttered ; "so \v<iiild any other honest young fel- low. Rut after hII things were ordainixj olherwi.se. His was a sad life; the pathos cf his death ts swamped in that tragedy of his youth that turned him into a wrecktxl man. I'erhaps a su<lden death is really the best. For my cwn part I wculd prefer it. Sir Ralph" had no time lo suffer. 1 take it that he fainted and fell, as the doctor very a;)tly explained at llu> inquest. You were U)t young to know him before the accident that changed his life'.'" "I was ten, .Mr. Day. old enough Ic rt" member his bright fascinating man- ner," corrected Sinclair, wilh a smile. "Indeed. So you were ! How time flics !" ejaculale<i the old mnn, blowing his no.se lustily how o {â- erdonable omission ccnsidering managed your affairs so long. Of course you imist remember your uncle's cliarming pei-sonality as a young man. The /\|xillo of London he was called. It was a bad day for him when he went tc Nunchcster, my birthplace'. 1 pever saw him afterwards wilt'out feeling the pathos of the change. .•<<) young, so lir.ppy. so full of the ple.-isure of living. That illikss changed everything for huu. I wonder if the marriage of Lady Cruse added to his cup of bitterness after- wai'ds." "I can't say. He was, as you probably know, a c<.nflrmed woman hater, and D&uld not bear to hear her name," "And the luystciy about her lost child «vill never bi» s»_ilved through him. ruiw. Ko.' people naturally connected the two events. In my opinion he met his living rifHth-lor loss of memory is nearly us bad as that â€" in tiying lo ivscuc the child Ii'om a kidnapjier. However, that is over, f'erhapis he might never have re- membered. .\nd tlie child, of coin'se, must he dead, or those who stole her would havo restored her years ago for the sake of a. reward. Of tiial 1 have not the slightest doubt. Rut 1 must catch my train, a.* you say there's nothing: more tliiit I can do. 1 supixise you will not stay any longer here youi'self'.'" The little man collected his papers as â- ho spoke, and looked at Duncan over his gcld-riinnied tspectavles. ".No," replied Duncan. "I shall go to town. The place has lost its charm for me. Resides, the woman I lodge with ia giving up her cottage. She and her br<^ilher arc leaving St. Lawrence." "\.nd a certain young lady objecls to youi' absence, ehf exclaimed the law- yer, his sharp face wrinkling mischie- vously. Duncan kx.ked confused. r<ir his thoughts were certainly not wi'h Eileen. "1 suppose you'll be gelling married soon?' conliuucd Mr. Day. The young man started, the hoi bkiod TUshinR to his face. "1 tkin'l know," he replied .slowly. "!'^â- o a groat deal to do to my iKune lio- fore then. Thanks to Uncle I^idph 1 can do nnich more now. Are you g<.ing? I'll walk back wilh you. Although Sini- Tiions hits orders "to tlri\c you to the station," ".No, no, I don't want hhn lo. The walk will be ploa.snnt enough. It's a pretty village this." "Yes," murniiired Duncan. "Rut its beauty lias g<.ine for nio." "I undei'stand. Wiihoul being morbid "al all, the recollection of the man you owe so uiuch to met his death hero, â- would he trying anywhere. \nA here, ^•hei'e the sun .seems to shine all day, Ih*' tlidughl of death musl r;eem woi-se." Sinelnir remained silent. A guilty feeling made him own reluciantly to â- himself that his reason for disenchant- ment in St. Lawrence was, nkire thaiv anything, .Sunbeam's absence. For, since she had goive he ivalized how much she was to him. Ikw their occasional meetings had been l<K)kotl forward !«v, how he had listened longing- ly f(jr the sound of her sweet cleai- voice. \h- VAtl struggled valianlly against to Eileen, and Sunbeam's shadowed par- eiitage, in vain. Tlve strange, new pas- sion for this girl had ousted everylliing eift twin his mind. He kjiew thai he I'jved al last, and that the object of his devotion was certainly not Eileen. He had therefore decided that he could not marry his cousin, and that his poverty must continue since his heart entirely refusetl to buy a fortune at such a price. He K.ved Sunbeam, whilst his affection for F.ileen had dwindled inUi mere in- diflerenoe. For her sake, and his own, he n;usl put an end to their engagement. If, later. .Sunbeam kived him also he v.<.iild lisk all in spite of her family. He wculd let his Iwmc and take her abroad â€" away from all associations â€" to begin a'new life in a strange couniry. Iler father would be bound over to leave her alone. .\nd she herself was the soul of hcnesly and honor. The pride of blood and lineage slirivclled to ashes before llie lire, of pass-ioji consuming hini. To see her again and to obtain his free- dom from Eileen were his chief rea.sons for going up to town as soon as he could. The death of his uncle had de- lav ej him. but now everything connected wills it was over, nothing kept him in S'. Lawrence. Resides, Hetly Green had spoken atout leaving tlw place also. Though she still pretended that Simbeam was. vitfiling friends he read uneasiness am! misery in her every movemont. and more than once longed lo \\ hisper : "Sunbeam is safe and happy." Prudence I'.owever weighted his tongue. .\nd. al- ll'.ough ho watched her carefully, guess- successful iji his search and that she was genuinely miserable, • she never once swoi-ved from her n^licencn, and even went so far as to tell him anec- dotes of .Sunbeam's doings, fii-st in 01- nay and then in London, whither she said her friends had taken her. Lady Larkin had nol written lo him. 1I-; and Sir Ralph had deemed it wi.ser f..r her nol lo do so. A fact which added •o his anxiety to get away. He wauled to sec SunU»am and hear of the plans made l<.r her future. But lo-ilay the unexpected go«id fortune that had fallen to him brought with it could hardly make the i-equiSt. It w<^:Uld seem to*', brutal and clearly prove to her that fortune alone had bound him I ) her for so long. He walked back from the station wilh !i heavy step, and anything but the ap- pearance of u yaung man lo whom had Ci.mo long desired alRuence. "I shall go to London by the next train," lie said lo Hetty, w'lo kioked more dejected than ever, owing lo a let- ti'- received from Rill giving no clue of Sunbeam's whereabouts. Hcf. face brightened al the informa- tion. She was aching to get aw.-iy her- self and help in the search f<ir h(>r dar- ling. For since Sunbeam war! nol with Lady Cruse, as Rill assured her, she ntighl 1m in terrible straits. C>od alone kv.ew what had happened to her ! In his si'iawl Rill suggested that Sir Ralph Fiver had merely given her a lift, and that they had been a couple of fools lo take friglit â€" but told her that she was to b' cautious nevertheless. "If you go then, sir, I shall gn. There's nolhing to keep mo here, niul I nuiy as well go in for a little jolliflcalion with Sunbeam and Bill, as slay alone,'' she an.swercd, after Duncan liad explained thai his work in the village was entirely finished and thai he should not return. "That would be wise of you. Miss Green," he i-eplied, gently, looking into her eycis wilh inquiry, "Sii Sunlionni writes glowing accounts of the city? Foolish little girl, tliis place suits her belter. Persuade her U- come back lo it soon if she wants to keep her roses." 'Thai I shall, after I've si>cn ,s»)nic of the sightis wilh her, sir ! She writes such li'ies about the theatres, and the many places of amusement, that my mouth fair waters for a taste of I'lem. For once in my life I mean lo '.lave a good fling ivun<l ^oc, sir; none cin blame me, I'm sure !" ".No, ind.vd . I hop? you will really enjoy your lime there. You must tell mo where you go lo, and I'll come and .see you and Sunbeam." He smiled as she turned away, present- ing a tleaf ear to his words. "l\ior creature ! " he ejaculated. "What an imaginatioi\ she reallv [.H.sse.sses : What WKUild she say it 1 told her that I know all, and that I shall .see Sunbeam i;i\.self in a very short time'.'" The thought clH'ored him. .-Vnd he ool- leclwl his parnphei'nalia, whistling gaily. Nol even the vision of Eileen's fiice as it rose mockingly before him. could dispel V,\i ftvling of happiness that increased n^ the hour for his deparlme drew nearer. For the time being he had for- g<.Uen everylliing but that he loved .Sun- l>eam and would see her .shortlyâ€" obsta- cles and depression wei'e swept away by the tide of Love. CHAPTER MX. His heart still attuned to the joyful song of Love, Duncan Suiclair drove through the bu.sy sti-eets of London to his slstei's hoi>se. The thought of going lo Eileen first had not even occurred lo him, for his mind was full ot, Sunbeam and the over- whelming desire lo see hor at ooce suoli foe;ings, wcttUiajf his eiJliut'cinent For although the wcraau Fule bound him lo was Eileen, the woman he really loved was .Sunbeam; therefore, thu pre- sent was for her and lov6 ; the future and duty could wait. Until then why listen to the whisper of sorrow, why ckse the heart of joy? But when he entered the drawing-room his feelings received a «ljock, for the .sclitary figure seated by tlie window was not Sunbeam after all. For a secojid etmbarrassment laid an embargo on his tongue, and tlie color rushed lo his brow. But as Eileen turned, her face a lovely r<ise of wcl- c<jme, he remembereil his duty towards Ikr wilh a pang, and took her in hifi ai-ms. ".Vly Eileen !" he murmured, "Iww sv.eet of you to be hereâ€" and " ".Ml, faithless one," she laughed, her eyes shining witli the glorwus love- light. "That was accident. I wonder when I shouki have seen you after all, had I gone before you came." "I meant to come after seeing Adele and leaving my luggage here. You wc\ild not have wailed long. Al thesla- tkin I tlMught of Adele Ursl, and tlicn Eileen " He pausetl, haling himself for the double part he seemed to play, and wish- ing that foriunc had nol added a fresh olistncic to his annulling their engage- ment. .\nd yet, would it not be better for her to believe him a mere fortune llMinter'? For slie was worthy of a man's giTutcst 1. ve. and he had nought but friendship to offer her? She smiled, and doing so, slabbed him lo the heart. For he saw how slie loved him ; therefore he durst nol pain her ,yet. ".\n eager lover would have said, rEiU-en first and then Adele,' al least I jtlnnk so," .she murmured, shaking her head. "Rut I will not be loo exacting I now I have you. Only ycu must nol go 'away for a long lime. For the present vou belong to meâ€" and lo love." 'To love !" siglied his h<-arl, while his jlips whispered haltingly, "I have lieen a beast. 1 know, but, as you say, I am here jto do your bidding. 1 will atone f<.r Uie ipr.st. Only, as you know, I suffocate in I tow II. and " 'That is all right, i go lo Brackley Park next week. Adele has promised to ichaperono mo, and we shall have a large iliouse poi-tv. You are lo be of the num- |bcr. And I will be mdulgenl with you there. Yen can paint from morning I'll night as long as I see you occasionally, 'will that please you, and am I iwl an iid.'al fiancee?" j He bent his face to hers and gave her I t!i > kiss her red lijis asked. She nestled in his arms. "You do not deserve to be let off so easily," she lai.gtied. "For I must con- I fe.ss that youi- long absence from me was Ino! al all to my liking. But I have quite 'made up my mind to be a model fiancee, net to hanipcr you loo much wilh my 'wishes, and U^ let you go your way as I much »c! you like. Love cannot thrive jil driven. I realized thai long ago." I He smiled down into her glowing face. jAnd his pulse thi-obbed quickly. For ihe.- beauty intoxicated him. And she I loved him. \\ hat man could resist such charm ? "Vou are too good," he murmured. "I know thai 1 deserve hard looks and piN'vish pouts. Instead of which .vou give me smiles and the sweetest li|>s in the world. " Rut even as he spoke his thoughts fitw lo Sunbeam. Her lips were the sweetest after all, although he had not y.'t touchiM Ihein with his own, .\nger against hini.self filled his heart, 'Too good !" cjaciilaltHl Eileen, in. a gentle voice full of enioli<in. "Not that ! I love ycu, I'Unican. and such love as mine can ovorkKik mere trifles for 1 know that vou love me. Perfect love castcth oi:l fear. You love me, Duncan. Say it once ! To hear tho.se words from you is nvre pleasure lo me than to hear any other man sav tlieni a hundred limes." He gave a little laugh. There was uii- casiness in the sound. "St. .\ubin '? " he inquircil, glad of the I reprieve. I She frowiwil and bit her lip. I "SI. .\ubin ! Jim. Poor silly .lim '!" .she 'ejaculalod inipalienlly. "You know '(p:ite well that 1 do not care tor him. I I love youâ€" youâ€" you. Bui those are Iho wirtls ".V'.u oughl to say. laggard one," .she coiitiiiued. her face clearing. "You inake me a typical modern girlâ€" in lliat I 'make love while you listen. Reverse the [tables at once. I only wish to l>e an loidinary woman showered wilh loving I epistles and caressesâ€" 1 have no desire t' w«H). 1 want lo be wooed. For I am j hungry for your love. Duncan; you have I been .so long away. And 1 love you so." I (;<K)d Goil ! How could he, in the face lot such pa.SiSion, slab her wilh his news? lOnly a brute could tell her what he had ! 1.' .say. And .vet .Sunbeam seemed lo draw him from hor arms. .Sunbeam, the only woman he had ever loved. Sun- beam, who was Uinely and m^xled love. Nrver had man been placed in such a predicament ! "Come. Say 'I love you. swcel,' " dic- tated Eikvn. her hand on his cheek, forc- ing his face to hois. "We have been so Icng apart that .vou have forgolten your ixile, and I will 'not scold you for that. Your lack of spe«-<-h but proves want of practice. 1 would rather have it so." She laugluxl lightly. His mind re- g.Tined ils balance. He was belrolhed lo her. His words came before his desire. He bent lo her. "Yes," he murmured. "You are right, swtvt Eileen. My tongue Is out of prac- tice. You must leach nie how to make love to vou. 1 will be a willing pupil, for I .â- " The words liiiubling on \vk tongue, balled as though a^liometl. How could he lie after all. F.ven to secure her hap- piness at the c<i>l of his own Ihere was ni neetl lo perjuiv himselL He loved Suntieam. no olher. Rut Eileen -seemetl to notice nolhinjj unusual in his manner, and was oNiul Ui speak when appwiaching Io<)lsleps fell np<in their ears. She sprang lightly away from him. her face sparkling with mi-iehief. as Ihe d<H)r 0]>cued and 1 a.ly Larkin entered. The j'Clief he tell at Ihe i;i'eri'upl;oa was tempered by disappoinlm«firal Sun- bum's non-appearance. Wtiere llien was the child ? Had she already gone away T The question was visible in his eyes as he greete<I his sister v.'ith brotherly warmlli. But quick aa she wae lo read his mind, she did not refer lo ttio sub- ject he k)ngeii yet dreaded lo broach, "Well, are you coming with me or not, Eileen?" she asked, luming to the girl, with a sympathetic smile. "If so, run and put on your hat, will y<u ? Duncan will come wilh u.s il you do, I'm sure, tliough you've had a long tete- a-telo as il is. How did you know Eileen was here? Did you drive to her b.onie linsl. or " "No, he didn't," laughe<l Eileen, her cheeks .still glowing wilh pleasure, "he was i-<;niing to mc later. .\nd like a fool I'v ' forgiven him his apparent indiffer- ence. What do you think of that? 1 woiKler if he has something hidden up h's sleeve, something we cannot guess at to acoount for his haste in coming here first, .A.dele. Is brotherly affection generally ?m keen ?" Despite her laugh there was a ring of anxiety in her voice, a hardened glitter il! her dancing eyes. .\dele glanced frcm her to P/uncan ap- prehensively. Had they quarrelled ? j \\ as that strangle mood she had seen I Eileen in so often lately, about to rclnrn jand cause trouble between tlie two? :Sho laid her hand on Ihe girl's arm. I "What could he hide fixjni you, Eileen ? I .\nd of course he knows you arc iiK'.ro joflon here than at lioine. is.i " i "So?" interrupietl the girl, her face raised inqui:ing!.v to Duncan's. "Ls that why you came here rii-sl?" He hesilaled. It w.is so easy to say .ves, but somehow las tongue .setmied I lied, and her on.xious burning ejes grew jcold and angry. i "I know," murnnired Eik^cn, turning j towards Ihe door. "You were anxious lo 's-v .vour pi-olegee, the village slut. Sun- j beiun." i .So changed was her manner as she 'flung the words al him, llinl he started, ! thrown off his guanl. .-\nd liefore he ;rtali»ni how his w<rds would be taken, ;h'3 had blurted outâ€" I "Where is she?" I The next nwnient he could have cut his ' tongue out willingly. For the effect of jhis quest!<in. itUMieent enough in all : faith, hud b"en alarming. Eileen had jlViUnced out of the n>im with an indig- iiianl look on hc-r pretty face, and Adele's eyes hud widened with consternation, ! "Oh, Duncan, unwise man I" she mur- niured, as the d'oor closed and lluy were left alone. I "Rut why? Wllal is Uie matter? Had ' anything happened lo herâ€" or- â€" •" 1 "Nolhing. But don'l .vou .s«;eâ€" though I suppose you don't, men are .so blindâ€" • that Eileen di.es nol like your lukaig -such nn interest in her? That's nahiral enough. For you nuist <"oiifess the af- fair is exLi'aordinnry. and she is so ' young and pretty. Eileen is very pa- tient wilh you. Duncan. You niu.-.l not I try her too mui-lL" ( .She spoke an.xiously, for lihe was fond jof Eileen, and did not iiuiie approve of I Duncan's mode of court-ship. I He .sal silent. A. Utile .soiww for j Eileen crept into las heart. She had, .no 1 .Vdele said, been very ^ood to him. He , had no right to make her unhappy i after all. .\nd yet, what had he done? I How couht she know that In- l<.ved Sun- ibeam? He had merely asked for the I girl. Siuely there w.rs no harm in that? 'â-  111" was keeping true lo his w ord. but I that did not mean lie was to lake no in- 'ti'i-ivsl in a girl who needed help and j friends. He looked at his sister. Her face was grave, a. suspicton of trouble ahead shone in her eyes. ; "How is Sunbeam?" he a.sketl quietly. .Slie shrugged her shoulders wilh a gesture full of Inipatiein''^. W'hal fo«.ds .men wore I Although I".i!es>n had 1k>cii I angered, his thoughts were oi .suu- I beam. ".She is wellâ€" I think -she will go lo I Lady Cruse u\ a day or two as compan- km. She has gone there lo ten loslay. Bui I musl ask .vou U, consider Eileen, Duncan. It wn.s t>Mili,sh of you not lo laugh -iw.iy that question of hers. I don t suppose .vou came here lirsl, for thai rea^'ii. but " I "Oil. Nuher !" ho exclaimcj. hi.-; face 1 lighting up Willi annoyimce. "If I'.ih'en â-  is going l«. be silly a'xiul that, of course j.we shall c|iiarrel I I Uwught ln-r more â- sensible. Rut 1 own you are right in saving I have been neglccltul. I'll make j amends for liiat. .She shall not complain 'of my mode ol lovo-makiiig any m--in\ t/^.s for SunlxMni, of course I'm interested tir. the child, and. what's more, my in- j teres! will contimio. Both you and 'Euoen can moke up .vour minds to that.'' j Lady Larkin sighi-d and opened her li)-*. But nt thai miimle F.ileen r-jtiiriu>d, b.>r face bereft of its anger, her eyes full lof dj-light. "Ilaxe I kept .vou wailing long?" she a.skeil as lliovigh nothing in Ihe world had nillkxl her. (To be eonlinuedl. NOr .^ FAMILY .NECE.SS1TY. "Mamma is all alone lo-day, Ressie. dear, and if an.voiie rinjjs .vou will an- swer the W'll." Prosenlfy Ihe IvU .sound»;d. .Vs nes..:e ix'siiondi'd to Ihe ring her molh.T tn- qnireil. "Who is ii. dear?" "Th<in)ono Ihellmg thilver polish,' annoiineoil the ctiiM. ".Say 1m. thank you. and clo&i Iho d«vip," cnnlinued the mother .sWtvliy. The child olj.nel, and a moment lal- o" the Iiell afxiiin wa.s hcnnl. "Who -is It Ill's lime'.*'" asked Iho mo- thiv hi a lone of annoyaniv. "Oh. mtiildor. iiiMdder! here's a ni.in with a wooden leg." "Mt'l'Cyl another pedd'or?'' voiced l!'e sr.sCvHilive wxinian. "Tell hJiii \*.o dou t want any.' ft.jii.^l jov.f'y rniiKs .is hi..-!! wrlh sonu' peopK' as di.Nh->nosl wealth does V ilh .-.onie oilicrs. ^ PROFITABLE A.ND UNPROFITABLB COWS. The GohnocUcut Slorrs s'ation ha« tested the cows of 32 diffawert he-ds iu the State of Connecticut. It rcixirla IhttL;- Maiiy of the individual ccws m the test were not reluniing the cost of the feed. The average riilk" yield ranged from 13.2 to 23.4 poundi per day, while the average yield of butter rangvd from 0.7 pounds to 1.3'3 pounds per day. This means 11ml the herd giving the largest fluw of iniiU was producing 80 per ci'iil. more than one giving Iho Aniailest fiow, wliilc the herd producing Ihe nwst butler was giving 90 i>cr cent, niore than the one giving the smallest yield of butler. • ' • One of the first things our dairymen need lo do is lo make a closer study of the individual animals of Uicir herds and lo reject the unpiofltablo *.nes. Likewise, the Wisconsin station made a tserius of t^-sLi of the herd of sLx pair rolls furnishing milk fo the daiiy sclwol creamery. The mJividual cow.s of four lierds wer(' tested through one enliro period <jf laclalioa. Al farm "X" Uw annua! yield of in.'lk ranged Iiom 3,- 79i! lo C,3f)3 i>oui:ds. and of butlerfat from 147 (o 2% pounds. Al farm "B" lUc milk yield rangtd from 5.193 lo 7,887 pounds, ar.d tho butlei-fal from ^5 to 312 pounds. Al farm "C tha milk yield ranged from 4,411 lo 8,138 l-ounds, and llie bultcrfal fnmi 'iiZ to :!;!G ixmiids. .vi farm "D" the rango ' t milk wa.s from 1.847 to (5,570 pounds, and of hullertul t\mi Hi lo 300 pounds. At farm "A " there were three cowa which did iwt piyiduec milk enough lo fay for their feed. Tlie entire herd of twelve cow.s gave a prolll of only $75; $50 of this amount \va.s from three of the cow.s. while the combined profit fixiin the olher nine was only $2.5. The twelvQ cows on funn "f."' earned a to- tal imifil <if $2S8, instead of 475 as on fann "A," but even on this farm tliere was consid,^ruble difference in tlie ciws. The vahw of Ihe product fiyiin the jxior- csl cow was 537.% and fiv)ra the bost cow was .W).72. Th*>. best tow gave .1 ppdilt of only •$*>. The New Jersey station lias conducte'l n. diiiry experuncnt on practical lines, using a herd of grade cows. With' milk al §1 per hundred, the l)esl cow gave a inxifil of $-V.>.72, while tl-.c l>oo^ est cow guTO a pmllt of only 13 cents. With bulter at 30 cents pn- i.>ound. th« best cow paid for her feed and .$40.64 additional, while the ))Ooresl gave only $5.84 in addilion to li-.c cost of the feed. The facts brought out by llus ettudy stixjngly cmpha«»i/.e IIm» correctness of the claim thai but little piollt U dc- iriviHl from a cow thai does not jiro- dure 5,0i'/0 iHiuiuls of milk per year, patticularly if the nitlk i.> .s-'ld al Iho low price of 1 cent per ixiimd, and in- /ilicale that +here is but little profit de- d-ivcd fivin a cow llial docs nol pro- duce 200 pounds <jf butler p<;t year. .No stronger argument iis ntvded ii» favof of the necessity of te.'ting animals, ,ind Ihas Kianiing tlieir â- exact value, and of tlM^ selection of dairy cows, llinn U afljrdel by the above recKi'ds. The avc-rage cost of keeping a cow a year ha.s teen variously eslimated i»y"exrcriinent stali-jns in dJfei'cnt lo- calities at fivun «3i) to $45. .Vs the New J<Tsev station lias ixiinled out. nv-arly the iiino capital and praeticaKy Uio same am^imt of lab<'ir arc required whe- ther tlio rclurn Iiom the herd is largo ,r smaM; aaul fr<'m every ivuul of vk-w a go.Kl. small herd Is much more y.to- tUable than a largo, iioor one. Gnuiling these facts, the questkm arir- es what tl.e farmer wilh «i herd of dairy cows i.s to d'O. First of all he should lind out ii-)l only what his herd Cnl- lecliv.'lv, but each cow, is doing. In olher words, he should I'ogm a record Of bolh the qiianlily and of the quality ol milk produced by each cow. Alter lliis ivcprd has been kepi for a while il will show him w lial cows are giving a good i-eturn and will enable him to svslemaU'allv v.-.e.l out his herd, re- taining ojilv the bcsl cow.s. He .should then gradually rai.sf the .-landard of liL- herd bv the inlroduelion of new slvjck, or by breeding hw> bivt cows U> gvud bull*. The Bube-jck lesl. whii'Ii is a simple means of dolcnnining the .richness of milk in f.il. and tlw scales for .delennining Ihe yield of milk, en- able any Ibirm.-r lo as<:erlain Ihe value for milk and bulter piHjdiicLion of each cow in his herd, luui wholher she l.i a trouive of profit or of lo.ss. The tal lec^l may be made at. frc- .quenl inler^•als. say once a week; or a comixisit" tesl can be made by tak. iiig. a smol! sample of milk t^ach day, ^.i.xiug lho.se. and tesLiig the mixture at the end of a woi.-k. Since the milk gix-en in the morning iLsually difUi"* somewhal fr<im thai given at nigUl. it is more reliable lo take s.iiopfes .tf Ihith m'Jrninn's and the night's milk for test- ing. Rv keeping a c-mlinoii> r ..vo'd of the we'gUt of milk pwihiced. and mak- ing a c«.inipo*ile lest of Ihe milk for on* week in each month a very ck.so e-l.i- niaje of lh.> milk and butler | roduclkjn of Ihe ( )w will be securiHl. Th.> ap. pr,.ix:jnale nniounl of butkr can b.> cal- cu'aled by r.dding on'-.si.'illi to Ihe but- t..i-fal. w-hieh Lslhe rule usually fol- lowoil by Uw ex|>erinienl slalions. Th^ aiii'iunt of lalxa- involved In keeping this le'yjrd when once IUl*d for II. in small, and frvim a pecuniary |v<iinl of view, il i«i well worth lh.> un- derlakingk II «hTws whi'lhe.r or not Ihe farnuM- is loardina llie e-iw and drawing on Ibo prifll h'iim Ihe belter icows ill oi\ler I.I dii il. \;> amount of •giiessw<o."k can laki; ils place. G V 4l n.xiijlo are .suiJl>>!.=!.Ml Ui b» bap- py. but Ihev seld-ni Vxik I'- ^ I 1 Tf-^-*^ '^-'f.'-t ' •"â€"â- -' - 7^-