Aiy’itfmokjJfoty py Edytt) Ellerbcck
ELICIA hesitated.
She certainly had
no right to enter
his rooms. The
cats were his,
and he could do just what he liked with
them; no one could prevent him. and
the cats themselves were helpless.
Helpless? Yes, indeed, poor little
things! And they were so soft and
downy. Felicia had caught a glimpse
of them as she went down the hall. It
may be necessary to science that some
creatures should suffer, but surely it
was cruel to sacrifice this whole family
of six Angoras—the devoted mother
and her five worshiped, nestling babies.
The Professor was out. Felicia half
opened the door of his room and peeped
in. The alluring picture of domestic
felicity that met her eyes decided her.
Madam, the Angora mother, lay pur
ring, sleepily on a soft rug before the
hearth, while five little bundles of soft
down snuffled and wriggled against
her maternal side. In a moment Fe
licia was on the rug beside them, her
dark locks mingling with the white
fur, five pink noses rubbing in a search
ing, puzzled way over her smooth
cheek. For five minutes she gave her
self up to this quiet ecstasy; then puss,
resenting this prolonged interruption
of her family privacy, gently but firm
ly showed her disapproval.
Felicia sat up aud pushed back the
rumpled hair from her face; then she
looked around her at Prof. Max Eger's
apartments. Just what a professor’s
rooms should be, she thought—books,
books with atrocious titles every
where, along with a profusion of very
ancient-looking curios. This next was
his sleeping room, and beyond. Felicia
saw with a shudder, was the labora
tory. What a horrible collection of
skulls, bottles, test-tubes, alcoholic
specimens and infernal machines it
was! And to-morrow theseilittle dar
lings might repose on that shelf in bot
tles marked “Felis doinestica,” and
that inhuman wretch would smile
with satisfaction at his ghastly work,
and feel no n ore compunction than
if he had taken a worthless watch to
pieces to find out how it worked.
Could she stand by and countenance
this slaughter of the innocents? Her
whole soul revolted against it. Her
mind pictured the terrible process.
He would do the cowardly deed to-mor
row. It was Christmas, a holiday he
might find a bore unless occupied in
the pursuit of his favorite science. Oh.
she would stay here until he returned,
and dare him to touch a hair of their
innocent heads! Then he would calm
ly look at her through those formida
ble glasses-—not at her, but at the wall
back of her head—in a way she had
seen him do, and inquire how long
since she had acquired the right to
enter his rooms. If he should ever
look at her like that she felt she would
sink through the floor. No. she would
not defy, she would beg, entreat. There
was still the intrusion.
She heard the landlady puffing up
the stairs; she might be discovered
at any minute. One moment of hesita
tion, and then the six cats were bun
dled, a wriggling heap, into her skirt,
and Felicia was flying up the hall to
her room. Once there she threw her
self, flushed and breathless, on the
bed, while the mother cat, with little
solicitous cries, licked and fondled her
jostled children. Now, Felicia was no
coward; three years of* journalism
had thoroughly trained her woman’s
heritage of nerves, but at every step
that passed her door the color that
never failed her even during interv iews
deserted lips and cheeks until they
were as white as the kittens she ca
ressed. For Felicia was afraid of the
professor; afraid of his voice, wheth
er harsh or tender, afraid of the dark
gray eyes that could be both cold and
commanding. When she finally had
to leave the kittens she stowed them
away in the depths of her laundry
basket,locked her door, and went away
feeling as if she had left behind her
some dark and terrible secret.
Christmas eve in a newspaper office
is like any other evening in the year,
except that there is twice as much
work on hand. It was past midnight
when Felicia went up the steps of her
boarding-house. A mixture of rain
and snow was falling, and the wind
was sweeping around corners with a
velocity that wrapped Felicia’s skirts
about her ankles like a mummy-cloth,
and threatened to carry off her um
brella. While she was struggling on
the doorstep a firm hand grasped the
refractory umbrella and a deep mas
culine voice at her elbow said:
“Permit me, Mees Fay.” Once iu
awhile the Professor’s accept was de
cided. .
“thank you. Jsn t this weather
beastly?”
“It is very bad weather.”
Felicia always felt rebuked for her
slang by his measured words.
“Why. you look like Santa Claus!”
she exclaimed, when they got in the
hall where it was light. Prof. Eger
threw buck his head aud laughed. Fe
lieia hail never noted before what a
boyish ring' his laugh had.
“1 do feel like old Kris Xringle to
night,” he said, laying down the bun
dles that had suggested the likeness
and approaching the open fireplace,
when !■ elicia stood warming her numb
fingers. “All 1 need are the sleigh,
reindeer and the ability to get'down
chimneys neatly to make me start out
on my rounds.”
Felicia was amazed. Was this jolly,
animated boy really the petrified Pro
fessor? Here was a man who eonsid
< red (hrist a my'th, and who conse
quently could not logically believe in
celebrating Christmas, now loaded
down with packages that bore an un
mistakable holiday air, and seemingly
filtering into the spirit of Christmas
with the enthusiasm of a boy. More
over, he had steadily avoided her for
the past two months—ever since—since
that night—and here he was chatting
to her as if there had never been an
interruption of their old tete-a-tetes
before the hall fire. She felt pretty
sure that this time he would be more
careful about expressing his disappro
val of journalism for women. At any
rate, she would let sleeping dogs lie.
't hen she remembered the cats.
“if you haven’t the reindeer and
sleigh, at any rate you shall find slip
ping down chimneys much easier than
file real Santa,” she said, hurriedly,
sinking into a chair. “You haven’t his
horizontal development, you know.”
“That’s so, I haven’t.” He glanced
down at his rather slender figure and
laughed again—a warm, happy laugh.
Then his eyes fell upon his bundles,
and he sobered.
“Miss Fay, I wish to consult with
you.” A fresh surprise. “You see,
there is only one lady, one grown-up
lady, in the world whom I would dare
present with a Christmas gift”—Fe
licia felt uncomfortable—“and I have
some doubt of the propriety of this.”
lie began to unwrap the largest of
liis bundles. Felicia watched him, mys
HE BEGAN TO UNWRAP THE LARGEST OP HIS BUNDLES.
titled. Why should he consult her?
The string' was knotted, and dignified
I’rof. Eger was soon on his knees at
his task. Now Felicia was distinctly
amused. He was beside her on the
rug before the fire, and as she looked
d-own she could ste where the damp
ness had curled his hair into soft rings
On his neck and on his temples. How
a mother would have loved to run her
fingers through the tumbled locks!
Felicia conquered the temptation.
“You like cats?”
The question was abrupt. Felicia
started guiltily. Did he know?
“1 adore them!” The tone was de
fiant.
“Then you will understand why this
appealed to me.” And he held up his
purchase for inspection. It was a
wicker basket, thickly padded and
lined exquisitely with blue satin, ruf
fles of white lace and dainty ribbon
bows.
For a cat! Then he did not mean
to—- Felicia almost groaned.
“You are surprised, nich wahr, that
1 should like a cat so well. This cat
was my mother’s, and 1 have just
rceived her. I wish to make her and
her wee family comfortable, and
when I saw this in a window I was
delighted. It must have been made
specially for little kittens; see, so
soft and downy.”
“For kittens!” Felicia smiled to
herself. It was a baby basket.
How she had wronged him! Her
action seemed utterly inexcusable
now. He would be angry with her
for supposing him capable of such a
heinous crime, and now that he had
begun to treat her as she longed to
have him she could not endure the
idea of coldness from him. Now he
was gathering up his bundles and pre
paring to go up the stairs, and she
leaned her head on her hand and did
not say a word. She nodded good
night to him, and then looked down
into the fire. She knew he would
come down again. And he did, anx
iously and hurriedly, peering into the
dark corners of the landing.
She watched him nervously until
she caught his eye.
“You are looking for your kittens?”
she asked.
“Yes; why—”
“Y'ou'll not find them here.”
He questioned her with a Surprised
glance.
“I took them,” she answered.
“Away?”
“Xot very far; into my room.”
“But I do not understand.” Prof.
Eger moved nearer to her.
“Neither do I now. I thought you
wanted them for specimens. ‘Scien
tific sacrifices,’ you know. And they
looked so helpless, and—1 love kit
tens.”
She felt like a naughty girl con
fessing some mischief. She saw his
eyes darken.
“Oh, 1 know it was wrong of me to
jump at such a hasty conclusion, but
some one told me how you once ap
plied electricity to a dog and made it
suffer horribly, and 1 was afraid I
couldn't bear—”
She stopped. His mouth was closed
in the straight line she dreaded.
“I will get them,” she said, and
started impetuously up the stairs.
But she was very tired, and coming
from the cold outside to the warm
room had made her dizzy. She caught
at the bannister for assistance. Prof.
Eger put his hand very gently under
her elbow, and in silence they walked
to her room.
“Will you get the basket?” she
suggested.
He brought it to her in her sitting
room and waited while she put the
kittens into it. Felicia felt very small
and mean. She almost wished that
she were blind like the kittens, that
she might not see how dark and
angry his eyes had grown.
“You don't look much like a cheer
ful Santa Claus now.” she said, try
ing to make her tone light, but her
lips and hands were trembling.
“Xo; and the feeling is all gone,
too,” he replied, gloomily.
“I am sorry. I would not have tak
en them if I had dreamed you cared
so much.”
He interrupted her, fiercely. “That
is not what I care about! It hurts
me that my interest in science should
have made me seem to you a brute!
You misjudged me once before, but I
hoped I had made you understand
me better!”
“I do, now,” she returned, quickly.
“Forgive me this time,” very plead
ingly, “and I will try to be a good
girl;” and she smiled whimsically up
at him.
Max Eger’s face changed. Felicia
looked down quickly and laid her
hand caressingly on one little crea
ture in the basket.
“I might have known you could not
harm a thing' so helpless and white
and little,” she said.
i’rof. Eger suddenly placed his hand
over hers and gathered hand and kit
ten in a close grasp.
“It is little and white and—love
i able,” he said, intensely, “and if you
wish to prove that you do not think
| me cruel and heartless you will give
1 it to me and let me care for it as ten
! derly as 1 long' to.”
Felicia tried to slip her hand away,
but he held it tightly in his. It rest
ed there; it trembled there. The kit
ten squirmed uneasily; lie could not
understand his position in this mat
ter. Xo wonder; he was still blind.
lint in the morning it was Christ
mas, the kittens were nine days old,
and they began to see things.—Wom
an’s Home Companion.
Pass Them On!
“All who joy would win
Must share It—Happiness was bom a twin.”
You have no money for Christmas
presents? Then pass on the things
you have—the books you have read,
the unhung picture, the duplicate
present, the scarf or gloves you do
not need, the musical instrument you
have stored away, the Christmas
cards packed in desk or boxes—any
thing by which you may enrich or
comfort or please others without im
poverishing yourself. These things
have yielded you their best flavor;
let them carry to Olliers friendship’s
rieh aroma. Pass them on!—Suc
cess.
Ilift Siberian River.
The Irtish river, in Siberia, is 2.200
miles in length, and drains 600,000 miles
of territory. N
FARMER and PLANTER.
TACT IN FARMING.
How to Run a Farm on a Modern
Basis mid Make tlie Most With
the Least Effort.
An old farmer on whom I called
gave me several good points, and
with the rest he said: “Farming can
always be carried on successfully so
long as it is not taxed to death. Onr
fathers of the early part of the cen
tury worked on an economical basis;
but they lived, and they lived well.
They did not have our privileges, but
the kink was that they knew how to
take advantage of what privileges
they did have. Nobody needs more
than the farmer does to readjust
himself to the times he lives in. We
can not farm it now as they a hun
dred years ago and live; but we can
adjust ourselves to the times and live
right well.” Then he brought his fist
down with a whack that rattled his
silver spoons. 1 said: “Perhaps you
will show me your farm, and illus
trate what you mean by showing how
to run affairs on what you call a rea
sonable modern basis.”
bo we took a stroll, ana L am going
to tell you something about it. In
the first place, there were no large
fields in sight. “Where is your corn?”
I said. “I do not raise much.” he
answered. “I do not need to. Why
should I help pile up a lot of good
material to be unsalable, when it can
be raised so much cheaper in the
western states? The first law of
economy is, that every food product
should be produced where it can be
produced most cheaply, and no one
else should enter into competition.”
“But your wheat,” I said, “how about
that?” “I buy it.' he replied. “I can
buy it cheaper than I can raise it,
even now since the price has gone up.
Only over there,” he added, “are two
or three acres sown for home use.
You notice,” he observed, “that I
grow a little barley, and enough oats
for my own horses.” “That field,”
sweet corn for the cannery.” “Have
you gone into beet raising?” I asked.
“Not headlong,” he replied, “expect
ing a fortune. I intend to wait until
1 see what will be done after the
government appropriations are used
up. Meantime I have made a small
experiment, that will not damage,
even if it does not pay me. for I shall
get some personal knowledge out of
it. L.'t me tell you, sir, it's haste that
makes waste. Our farmers are too
anxious to make a fortune on the
jump. So they go into buying great
farms, raising new crops, and they
must have big crops or fail.” “But,”
I said, “does it not work ii
.way on small farms • ao' on large?
WTY£n a man puts all of his' capital
into one crop does it not take more
than two or three years to break
him ?”
“That's it, that's it,” said my farm
er friend, “all the eggs in one basket,
you see. But suppose he has ten
baskets, and a dozen eggs in each
one, and an aeeident knocks over
two, he still has eight left to sell. 1
have seen men go bankrupt on straw
berries, on beans, on chickens, on
pigs, on horseradish. A man may go
bankrupt on sweet peas.” The last
advise of my friend was: “A few
acres of land, well tilled, is better
than a large number of acres badly
tilled Every badly tilled acre stands
for so much waste energy. We have
got to the end of b*g' farming. We
must learn to use what we have to
better advantage, and adjust our
selves to a more closely inhabited
country. We have gone on a whole
half-century beyond the safe line,try
ing to farm on too extensive a scale,
liaising what can be produced else
where at much less expense, instead
of adapting our production to our
markets and the conditions govern
ing supply and demand.”—G. H. Dier
hold, in Agricultural Epitomist.
NEXT YEAR’S HOC CROP.
T!:e Most Profitable Porker is Far
rowed Early In the Spring?
and ICept Growing.
The most profitable porker is far
rowed early in the spring', and kept
growing fast during the spring and
summer, and fattened the next fall.
Hogs of any of the leading breeds
can be made to dress from 200 to 250
pounds at eight- months old, and by
having the pig's come early in the
spring they make good killing hogs
without having- to winter anything
but breeding stock. The sows should
be bred from latter part of October
to middle of December, according to
locality. For the southern and south
western states, they may be bred in
October, but for the north they
should be bred so as to farrow early
in April. Sows bred in December will
farrow about a week earlier in April
than the date of breeding. The period
of gestation is a little less than four
months.
As to which breed should be se
lected, the hog raiser may be to a
considerable degree directed by his
fancy, as all of the improved breeds
are good, and for the feed consumed
there is little difference in any of
them as to the prok-producing quali
ties. Some breeds are more prolific
than others, and by selecting sows
from a breed that farrow large lit
ters, fewer sows are required to raise
pigs. J prefer the Chester White, as
they almost invariably farrow large
litters, and they are good milkers, so
they give the pigs a good start, and
by keeping the pigs growing they
will produce as much pork at ail
early age as any other, if not more.
Some claim that the Chester Whites
are tenderer than the black breeds,
but I can not see but that they as
hardy as any other hogs. I have never
had any trouble with their being
tender skinned.
1 believe in full bloods, but if grade
hogs are to be raised they should
always be bred to a full blood male.
This will keep the herd uniform and
produce a much better appearance
than a herd of hogs of all sizes and
colors. There will be fewer runts
among full bloods and grades than
there will be among mongrels where
I he blood of 1 hr.ee or four breeds is
indiscriminately mixed. The sows
should have a ration during the win
ter months of good nutritious nature,
such as bran, oats and middlings.
They should also have a moderate ra
lion of some succulant food, such as
artichokes or turnips. I find arti
chokes to be one of the best of hog
feeds. They are richer in protein
than most other root crops, and are
relished by the hogs better than any
thing else I have ever tried. When
only the .best breeds of hogs are
found on our farms, and only as
many of these as can be kept grow
ing- rapidly from farrowing to slaugh
tering time, the average cost of the
production of pork will be greatly re
duced.—A. ,T. L,., in Epitomist.
About >lisfitM.
Rome men take to farming' as ducks
take to water, because their instincts
so direct them. Other men take to
commerce for a similar reason. A
duck on the Staked Plain is not more
out of the place than the man who is
round trying- to fit himself into a
square hole—the “natural-born” farm
er taking- up traffic, or the man
whose tastes and talents fit him only
to stand behind a counter quitting
1he store to turn up the soil. All men
can not be farmers, for merchants
and lawyers and doctors and teach
ers, and many others, are necessary.
Though not so absolutely necessary
as farmers, yet the c-hara-cter of the
age we live in demands that all these
positions be filled by men specially
qualified, each of his own field of la
bor. When men make no mistake in
selecting an avocation, everything
goes smoothly, satisfactorily and
without friction. The trouble is, and
it is a serious one, too, that we have
so many men who have ne ' ,pon»
strated a fitness for any position.
When dogs may be utilized by the
sausage-makers and worn-out cart
horses turn up again as “canned
beef,” we must conclude that noth
ing is created without a purpose, ”
though some men pass through life
without finding a hole they will fit
into. There are men born and raised
on a farm, who are as much out of
place as a saint in purgatory; and
what makes the matter worse is, they
have never learned the fact. That is
why there is so great a difference be
tween the highest crop yields and the
general average—why some make 12
bushels of corn per acre and others
7H bushels or more. Why some farm
ers never get their financial noses off
the grindstone of debt, while others,
with no better “natural advantages”
are happy, prosperous and independ
ent. There are many men engaged in
alleged farming who ought to be else
where doing otherwise.—Texas Faria
and Ranch.
HERE AND THERE.
—It is cheaper to feed one cow fot
a given amount of milk than to feed
two. It is less labor also to milk a
given amount (which may be four,
live or six gallons) from one cow
than from two.
—Age may improve wine, hut not
eggs. Cold storage eggs may be'bet
ter than none, but they are not near
ly so good as some. An egg- is never
better than the next day after it is
laid.
—When fowls are marketed, it is
well to remember that clean shanks
and feet add greatly to their atract
iveness in the eyes of discriminating
consumers, always excepting the res
taurants. For them, anything g'oes;
—England began breeding fine
stock first, hence got a start of this
country; but we have been apt pu
pils, and now surpass any other coun
try in the numbers, and equal any in
quality of fine animals.
—As feed is scarce in many places,
it will be profitable to consider that
cover takes the place of much corn;
that well-housed animals need less
food than those exposed to the
weather. Good stables, etc., are
money-savers.
—Those hog men who have been
selling their breeding stock because
feed is scarce, are doing the best
thing possible for the men who are
doing otherwise. Hogs ate going up
in price before long, and a greater
scarcity next year mean, yet higher
prices.