'I don't believe a word of it!' says Uncle Charlie. 'A sudden recall always means a woman. Why, when I was a young man, I thought nothing of' —
'My dear!' says Aunt Isabel, with a gentle uplifting of the right hand.
'Quite so, my good Belle,' returns Uncle Charlie, patting the soft white fingers. 'But seriously, Frank, she will do very well without you.'
'I have no doubt of that,' says Halkett, and raising his eyes meets Miss Mordaunt's full.
Half an hour later, Cissy, feeling mournful and guilty, steals round to the stables to take a last look at the Baby, as she is afraid to look at the Baby's master. Just as she is patting her and rubbing down the soft velvet muzzle, the door opens, and Halkett enters.
'I am glad to see she is so much better,' says Miss Mordaunt promptly but nervously, pointing to the injured limb. 'If you go to-day, you will not take her with you, I suppose?'
'No; I suppose not.'
'Must you go?'
Halkett glances at her reproachfully. 'Yes; of course I must. There is no other course left open to me. After what you told me last night, it would be simple madness to remain.'
'What did I tell you? I don't think I told you anything.'
'Well – what you led me to infer.'
'You should not infer things. I never meant you to do so.' As Miss Mordaunt says this in a very low tone, she turns her head aside and recedes a step or two. A dark flush rises to Halkett's brow, colouring all his face, even through the bronze an Indian sun has laid upon it. A sudden gleam of something akin to hope shines in his eyes for an instant, but is as speedily suppressed.
'Do you know what you are doing?' he says in a tone sufficiently unsteady to betray the agitation he is feeling. 'Do you know what your manner, your words seem to me to mean? Do not, I implore you, raise within me again the hope I have surrendered, unless – O Cissy, you will never know how cruel a thing it is to love without return!'
'But – are you sure —your love – has gained no return?' demands Miss Cissy in faltering accents, and immediately afterwards feels she has but one desire on earth, and that is for the ground to open and swallow her.
'Cissy, Cissy!' cries Halkett, 'tell me you do not care for that fellow Blake!'
'Not a bit, not a bit!' says Cissy; and in another moment finds herself in Halkett's arms, her tears running riot over the breast of his coat. 'Oh, say that you forgive me!' she sobs. 'It was most hateful of me – about that bedroom candlestick the other night, and everything. But I misunderstood it all. I thought you loved Mrs Leyton. Say that you forgive me!'
'I will not hear a word about forgiveness now,' says Halkett, who has been assiduously employed in kissing her hair, brow, and any other part of her face that is visible. 'It is taking a mean advantage of me; I am so happy this moment, I would forgive my bitterest enemy without hesitation. By-and-by we will discuss the question, and I shall grant you pardon on my own terms.'
Some time before luncheon there comes a knock, low but decided, at Uncle Charlie's library door.
'Come in!' calls out the owner of the apartment; and the door opening admits Frank Halkett and Miss Mordaunt – the latter keeping well behind, and only compelled by the strong clasp of her companion's hand to advance at all.
'I have come, sir,' says Halkett mildly, 'to tell you I have, after all, decided on delaying my departure until next week, as I at first intended – if you do not object.'
'Indeed, indeed; I am glad of that,' says Uncle Charlie, just a wee bit puzzled. 'I need not say how welcome you are. – But what about the business letter, eh, and your hot haste to reach town? What has changed your plans, eh?'
'Miss Mordaunt,' says Halkett, with a mischievous glance at Cissy, who is hopelessly confused and horribly shamefaced, in the background. 'Miss Mordaunt has induced me to alter my mind.'
'Eh! what, what?' says Uncle Charlie, rising from his chair as the truth dawns upon him, and instantly sinking back into it again. 'You don't mean it! And all this time I could have sworn it was that fellow Blake!'
And so were made happy a pair who, through a mutual misunderstanding, might have never come together again in this world; who, but for an accidental timely explanation, might have remained through life victims to Cross-purposes. Reader, remember that there are two sides to every story.
POLAR COLONISATION
Towards the end of February the Naval Committee of the House of Representatives at Washington reported a Bill authorising the American government to fit out an Arctic Expedition, which would establish a colony on Lady Franklin's Bay, and thence despatch exploring parties to the Pole. To influence congressional action in this matter, two or three pamphlets have been put forth in America, and circulated among the members of both houses. In one of these, Captain Henry W. Howgate, U.S.A., advocates the doctrine, that to reach the Pole with the greatest certainty, and with the least expenditure of time, money, and human life, it is essential that the exploring party be on the ground at the very time when the ice gives way and opens the gateway to the long-sought prize. This, he affirms, can only be done by colonising a few hardy, resolute, and experienced men at some point near the borders of the Polar Sea.
The same idea, in a somewhat different form, is advocated by Mr R. W. D. Bryan, of the United States' Naval Observatory at Washington, who, at Captain Howgate's request, has expounded in a brief pamphlet his views in regard to the best methods of conducting Arctic exploration. Mr Bryan says that he has given the subject much thought for many years, and has carefully examined the rich treasures of Arctic literature. This study, and his own experience and personal observation during the Polaris expedition, have suggested to him a plan which seems comprehensive and practicable. He is opposed to all spasmodic efforts to reach the Pole, because the chances of success are not commensurate with the necessary outlay. Let a vessel, he says, be always ready at some advanced post to push forward whenever an opportunity offers, for it is well known to Arctic explorers that Polar ice moves, shifts its position, and breaks up, sometimes slowly, and at other times with great rapidity, and that its position and condition change from year to year; hence in the same place success in one season may follow the defeat of a previous one. If, therefore, a vessel be at hand when the movement carries the ice out of her path, she can advance; and if, unfortunately, she should have no such opportunity, her officers and crew, by their observations and their boat and sledge journeys, would be able to employ their time profitably; the chances, however, would probably be in favour of their finding some season sufficiently open to admit of their forcing the vessel towards the Pole. In connection with the ship which is thus to watch year by year for a friendly ice movement, Mr Bryan would have a station established on the land within easy communicating distance, and yet not so far north as to prevent its being visited at least once in every two or three years by a ship from the parent country. The plan, no doubt, is one which would conduce to eventual success; but we should fancy that even the hardiest enthusiasts would shrink from an undertaking which would involve their spending annually from four to five months in total darkness, even though 'the station should afford warm comfortable quarters for a corps of scientific observers and an active band of explorers.'
We cannot follow Mr Bryan through all the details of his original plan, but it will be interesting to glance briefly at a bolder and more comprehensive one which he develops towards the conclusion of his brochure. He says, and with reason, that a greater certainty of speedy success and the collection of scientific data beyond all measure more valuable, would follow the enlargement of the scheme he has propounded. 'Instead of establishing one station, and having but one ship watching tirelessly the mysterious movements of the ice, let there be many stations and many ships placed at intervals along the whole threshold of the unknown region.' To this, of course, the obvious objection arises that the plan would involve the expenditure of a large amount of money; but Mr Bryan is equal to the occasion, and perhaps taking a hint from the king of the Belgians' proposition with regard to African exploration, he suggests that the enterprise should be an international one, for in that case the burden upon any one nation would be comparatively light. Mr Bryan has gone further, for he has partitioned the work among the nations. Great Britain is to grapple with the difficulties of the Behring Strait route, and in addition, to take a turn at 'the eastern coast of Wrangell's Land or the western coast, or both.' This, we imagine, would keep Sir George Nares occupied for some time. For the United States is claimed the right to consider the Smith's Sound route as peculiarly its own; and the Germans are to undertake 'the eastern coast of Greenland, the route advocated so long and so well by their illustrious geographer Dr Petermann.' The Dutch are to take Spitzbergen for the base of their operations; the Austrians are to follow up Lieutenant Payer's discoveries in Franz Josef Land; and the Russians are to establish stations upon Novaya Zemlya and some of the extreme northern points of their empire. Italy, Norway, and Sweden, France, Spain, and Portugal have minor parts assigned to them; but hardy Denmark, oddly enough, is overlooked.
Mr Bryan thinks that the money laid out on these enterprises would be 'well invested, and would give an ample and speedy return in every department of human industry.'
Since the foregoing was written, intelligence has been received that arrangements are actually in progress for carrying out Captain Howgate's bold plan of prosecuting Polar discovery. The expedition, we hear, will be under the command of Captain Tyson, of Polaris fame, and it was intended that it should leave at once for the Arctic regions to select a position for the planting of a colony in 1878. The funds required for this advance voyage (about ten thousand dollars) will be raised by subscription in New York; and it is expected that Congress will in autumn appropriate fifty thousand dollars to cover the expenses of despatching the colony.
A FEW WORDS ABOUT POULTRY
There is no species of live-stock less understood or less cared for than poultry. Almost every farmer and nearly every cottager in the country keeps hens, as well as a great number of people about the suburbs of all large towns; and strange as it may seem, if you ask them as to the profitableness of their stock, you will almost invariably be met with the answer that 'hens don't pay.' Many people of course never take the trouble to find out whether they pay or not, but go on rehearsing the story of others who do take that trouble, and who find it an unprofitable job. With a large number of poultry-keepers this is really the case; and there must therefore be a certain fascination about fowls that induces such people to keep them. The secret probably is that fresh eggs being such an adjunct to the breakfast-table and to the making of savoury omelets and puddings, hens are kept to lay eggs, no matter how few, or at what cost. Some people, however, do make them pay, and pay well too; but it is only by properly directed intelligence being brought to bear on the subject, as well as by the exercise of a good deal of care and attention, that this object is attained. Many an amateur keeper of poultry is able during the spring months to sell as many eggs as he can part with at prices ranging from six shillings to a guinea per dozen – such eggs being the produce of prize poultry, and such prices being given in order to rear chickens from them. It is therefore principally amateurs, fanciers, and people who take delight in and bestow care and attention on their birds, that are able to reap satisfactory results from the rearing and keeping of poultry. If care and attention were not brought to bear on the rearing of horses and cattle, these would not pay either; but hens are, by farmers especially, usually considered too insignificant to bestow much trouble on; therefore they are often allowed to run about starved and ill cared for at one time, and glutted with food at another; while their roosting-houses from want of cleaning become so filthy that it is a wonder the birds so frequently escape the diseases which filth engenders, and to which the feathered tribe are so liable.
It is certainly not creditable to this country that the importation of poultry and eggs is so enormous, and probably few persons are aware of its extent. In 1875, the latest year for which the Board of Trade returns have been completed, no less than seven hundred and forty-one million of eggs were brought into this country; and the returns of the immediately preceding years shew that this importation has been making gigantic strides. Most of these eggs come to us from France; and when we consider that the French themselves are large consumers of both eggs and poultry, it may well be imagined to what an enormous extent our friends across the Channel develop this branch of trade or commerce. The advantage which our continental neighbours derive from it is obvious when we consider that not only eggs but fowls are largely sent over to us; and that about three millions of pounds sterling are now annually paid by Great Britain for these two staple articles of consumption. Farmers and poultry-keepers should lay this well to heart, and endeavour by some means so to increase the production of poultry and eggs, as not only to secure the retention of a large portion of this money in our own country, but to fill their own pockets with a portion of it.
In our observation and experience the point on which most ignorance prevails with regard to poultry is food. No attention or intelligence appears to be directed to the kind, quantity, or time of feeding that is most suitable; and nowhere is this ignorance more noticeable than at farm-steadings. At such places, hens are generally allowed to surfeit themselves with grain at one season, while they are starved at another. Now they do not lay well while they are either in the one condition or the other; for a starved bird has not the wherewithal to produce eggs, while an overfed one gets lazy and accumulates internal fat, to the extinction of egg-production altogether. Hens never lay so well as when they are kept in a state of activity, running after meat that is thrown to them, or searching and scratching for it among earth or rubbish. After moulting-time, or when hens have been as it were resting from laying eggs, one of the first things that to a keen observer heralds a speedy return to that state, is the restless activity with which they scrape and scratch the ground. When their courts or haunts bear evidence of this by the holes which they make, laying is not far off. A happy medium in feeding produces the best results with poultry; and a golden rule is never to give fowls more at a time than they will greedily pick up. Indeed they should always be made to leave off before their appetite is satiated. Their meals should be given regularly, and should be thrown on the ground to them, not left in wooden troughs, which readily sour and taint the meat. But whether given on the ground or otherwise, not a particle should be allowed to lie over, for nothing injures hens more than stale food.
The number of meals in a day may vary according to circumstances, but for adult fowls no more than three should ever be allowed. Where hens have full liberty to roam about a farm-yard or in fields, only two scanty meals should be given both in summer and in winter – one in the morning as early as possible, and the other about an hour before they go to roost in the evening. Birds which are confined to courts or runs should have a more substantial meal – not later than nine o'clock in the morning in winter, and an hour or two earlier in summer, with a pick of something at mid-day, besides their evening feed. Grain of some kind should always be given them at night; wheat, rough barley, or oats, are all good, but ought to be used singly, not mixed; and it is well occasionally to change the variety. Indian corn seems to be more relished than any other grain, but should be sparingly given, and never longer than a very few days at a time, just for a change, as it has a very fattening tendency. The morning meal may consist of table-refuse of any sort mixed to a proper consistency with sharps, middlings, bran, or barley-meal. The mixture should neither be too sloppy nor too hard, but such as if thrown on the ground in a lump will break into bits, not crumble down into a state of powder. Potatoes are bad to use in large quantities, for like Indian corn they are too fattening; boiled turnips, however, may be used with advantage for mixing. In winter it is best to give the morning diet warm, with an occasional sprinkling of pepper during very cold or wet weather. A very little salt may likewise be added. The mid-day pick may either consist of the morning's remains or a little grain; but on no account should soft food be given after it has stood for any length of time. It can be mixed up at night, but what is then prepared should all be used up on the following day. Grass or green food of some kind is requisite to keep poultry in good condition; and if the birds have not free access to it, a little cut up and mixed with their food, or a cabbage or lettuce hung up with a string just within reach of the birds, so that they may get at it with a little trouble, is a very valuable accessory to the dietary. It is absolutely necessary that green food be given regularly, if fowls are expected to thrive; but the amount of it need not be great; only if it is left off for a time and then resorted to, or given in too large quantities, it is likely to cause diarrhœa.
It is very difficult to define the exact quantity of food that ought to be given to hens, and it is well to remember that at some seasons they will eat much more than at others; but as a general rule for those in confinement, a ball about the size of a duck's egg in the morning, half of that at mid-day, and an average-sized handful of grain at night, is about the proper quantity for each bird; and less than that of course for those that have fields or farm-yards to roam in. The tendency with most poultry-keepers is to feed too well, and it is generally very difficult to get them convinced of this, for hens will go on eating long after they have had enough; but the consequences are always bad, such as accumulation of internal fat and the laying of soft or shell-less eggs. This latter disease – for so it may be called – is a very common effect of over-feeding young hens, and is sometimes not observed till it has existed for some time, as such eggs are often eaten by the birds as soon as laid, and if they are not caught in the act, those who keep them may be none the wiser. The quickest and most effectual way to cure the effects of over-feeding is to administer a good dose of Epsom salts in their soft food in the morning, and to starve them till the following day. Indeed such treatment to overfed fowls that have gone off laying will often bring them into that condition again at once. Poultry should always have access to plenty of cool fresh water; and if the dish containing it cannot be kept in a cool or shady place, the water should be frequently renewed, especially in warm sunny weather, for nothing is worse for hens than sun-warmed water. It is also important that a handful or two of small stones or gravel be occasionally thrown into their runs, if the ground itself is not gravelly, for hens swallow such stones to assist the gizzard in triturating their food. It is considered that lime or old mortar is necessary for the production of egg-shell, but we cannot speak authoritatively on this point, for we have kept hens for years, and never yet saw them swallow a piece of mortar, although they have access to it; but we are bound to admit that oyster-shells, broken up small, are at certain times swallowed with great avidity, if fowls can obtain them.
Next to the importance of good systematic feeding, if not even before it, ought to come cleanliness. Some people never think of cleaning their hen-houses and hen-runs; but it ought to be carefully and regularly done; and the inside walls and roosting-bars should be whitewashed at least twice every year. In connection with this, it may be mentioned that nothing is worse for a hen-house than a wooden floor, as it soon gets saturated with their droppings, and becomes rotten, when it is impossible to clean it. A stone or cement floor, or even an earthen one, is greatly superior to one made of wood; and if such a floor be kept thickly strewn with fine coal-ashes, sand, or dry earth, this helps to deodorise the dung, and is easily cleaned – besides the whole makes a very valuable manure, which can be used in the garden. The floor or ground of the court or run should be earth, the surface of which can be lifted off occasionally with a spade, and then dug up to freshen it. At such times, the birds will get a feed of worms, which will do them much good.
Fowls clean themselves by means of dust; and if they have not access to it, they readily become infested with a species of small lice. Finely riddled coal-ash or dry earth laid in a sheltered corner of their run will answer the purpose. It should be renewed occasionally, and a little flowers of sulphur or carbolic powder sprinkled on it. It is very amusing to see the birds lying in their baths and shaking the dust all over and through their feathers. They seem to take great delight in this occupation.
The variety to be kept depends on circumstances, that which suits one locality being unsuitable in another. Many people keep what are called barn-door fowls, that is, a cross of all sorts of breeds, but experience shews that such fowls are not profitable either for the table or for laying. Occasionally one hears that there is nothing like them for laying; but those who speak thus have seldom much experience of pure breeds; and because they now and again find cross-bred birds laying remarkably well, they are too apt to sound their praise. A first cross between two pure breeds, such as the 'Dorking' and 'Spanish,' or 'Game' and 'Spanish,' sometimes produces very fine profitable fowls; but if these are again allowed to mate with other crosses, the progeny always degenerates. The Dorking is perhaps the most common and well-known variety in this country, and holds a good reputation for size and quality as a table bird, also for its laying powers. It does not thrive, however, in all localities, requiring a dry soil and extensive range to roam on, and is essentially a farmer's bird. Dorkings make good sitters and mothers. The variety is bred to perfection, principally in the counties of Sussex and Surrey. The general favourites of 'fanciers,' owing to their symmetry of form and beautiful plumage, are the several varieties of Game; but they are somewhat troublesome to keep, owing to their fighting proclivities. Spanish hens are good layers of large eggs, but the breed is a delicate one, difficult to rear, and difficult to keep in health. Cold and damp affect them much; but they sometimes do well in confined runs, if these are dry and sheltered and their houses warm. 'Brahmas' and 'Cochins,' two Asiatic breeds, created quite a sensation on their first being brought to this country about a quarter of a century ago, and large prices were then paid for them. As chickens they take a long time to grow, but ultimately attain great size. They are both good layers, especially in winter, when eggs are dear, but are inveterate sitters; and the time lost by this propensity often neutralises the profit which might be made from their egg-producing qualities. 'Hamburgs' lay numerous eggs of a rather small description. The French varieties have been gaining ground in this country for some years back, the 'Houdans' being splendid table fowls, with good white flesh and small bones. They grow very fast as chickens, but do not generally begin to lay till well matured. 'Crève-cœurs' also grow quickly to a good size, but have not much reputation as layers. The latest breed – which, however, has not been known in this country more than a few years – is the 'Leghorn,' for the introduction of which we are indebted to the Americans, who imported the first birds of the kind from Leghorn about twenty years ago, and have since then been improving the variety. It would appear to excel most others for early development and splendid laying powers, and is fast taking a prominent place with poultry-keepers. Prize birds of all distinct varieties are very valuable, sometimes fetching as much as twenty-five pounds for a single bird to shew and breed from.
It is a great mistake with some people to keep too many birds, and we have noticed again and again where a keen amateur has very reluctantly been persuaded to kill off or dispose of a portion of his stock, that instead of his egg-basket suffering owing to the fewer birds kept, it has actually become fuller than before. Only a certain quantity can be kept on a given space, and if more than this is attempted, failure must be the result. The proper number can be arrived at only by experience, but no cottager with limited accommodation should attempt to keep more than about half-a-dozen. The worst layers should be killed after their first season's laying, just before they commence to moult or cast their feathers – say about July or August; for if allowed once to begin this process of renewal, they are useless for the table until the whole of the new feathers grow again; and this sometimes occupies months, during the whole of which time laying is generally suspended. The best, however, should be kept over their second season's laying, and then killed before moulting; and none but the very best should ever be allowed to see a third season, for age is a very unprofitable and increasingly unprofitable possession. From one hundred to two hundred and fifty eggs may be expected from a good bird in the course of a year; and those which lay less than a hundred are not worth keeping. It may be mentioned that the addition of a cock to the run makes no difference in the number of eggs which the hens will lay; it is unnecessary, therefore, to keep a cock unless chickens be desired.
THE WALMER LIFE-BOAT
Hark! a distant gun is sounding
O'er the waters, wildly bounding;
Raging waves are fast surrounding
Some wrecked ship to-night.
On the shore the breakers, roaring,
Loud as thunder now are pouring;
Far a signal high is soaring,
Like a phantom light.
Moon and stars their aid denying,
E'en to seek the living – dying —
Who, to prayers and tears replying,
Will the tempest face?
Oh! for some brave ocean-ranger,
Who would, through the cold and danger,
Go to save, perchance, one stranger!
Silence, for a space.