g A Wife for J By CIIAIMN When the Rev. Gilbert Bancroft be gan his pastorate in Windham, it wa: felt by the members ot the village church that they had secured all in fact a great deal more than they haii any reason to expect. They had treat ed themselves to the pleasurable ex citement of listening to a long line o'. candidates, considering and rejecting, until, one Sunday morning a Bllm young preacher had arisen in the pul pit and surveyed them earnestly with a pair of very fine gray eyes. His frock coat fitted perfectly, his collar and tie were irreproachable, and as it had been previously ascertained that he was hampered by neither a family nor a cough, cn instantaneous conviction swept through the feminine half of the audience that here, at last, was the man for whom they had been waiting. In a few isolated cases ot Bpinsterhood this conviction even as sumed a more personal significance. The more conservative, masculine part of the congregation waited for the sermon before committing Itself to a decision happily unconscious that it was taking an entirely unnecessary precaution, and that the candidate had been engaged practically from the first moment. Before the singing of the second hymn, Mrs. Saxton, the wife of one of the deacons, was al ready congratulating herself on the fact that her daughter, Milly, silting unsuspectingly at her side, had always been carefully reared, and was fitted In every wny to take up the duties of a minister's wife. The parsonage roof, of course, would have to be repaired, and she would Insist upon the Ladies' Society repaperlng the parlor; other wise the house would do very well as It was. At the close of the service, by skill ful maneuvering and from the vantage of a front pew, the deacon's wife se cured a promise from the candidate to take tea with her during the first week of his pastorate, and her invita tion was only the first in a royal sa lute of welcome wmch rained upon him from all the tea tables in the vil lage, as Eoon as it was definitely known that he- would accept the call extended to him by the church. The parsonage was a low-roofed, pleasant looking white house, standing well back from the street, on a gentle rise of lawn, and protected from the too close scrutiny of its neighbors by a baffling hedge of locust trees and shrubbery. Here, in the library on the south side of the house, young Mr. Bancroft ettabllsned himself with his typewriter and his books, scattering through the other rooms his scanty supply of furniture, the somewhat bat tered equipment or his seminary days. He engaged as housekeeper, Mr3. Em ily KInibal, an elderly widow of his congregation, and she at once as.sumed a motherly charge of the minister and his affairs. She was inclined to view rather skeptically the frank outburst of cord iality with which the ladles of the con gregation sought to make their new pastor feel at home. He, however, accepted all his invitations courteous ly, starting out every afternoon punct ually at five, faultlessly attired in clothes of a noticeably city cut, his fine, abstracted gaze unconscious of -the admiring scrutiny of half the vil lage. Mrs. Kimbal never failed to ob serve him critically from the shelter of the parlor blinds. ""Midland!" Bhe remarked scornfully to herself. "Any one would think they was tryin ter pay for the spiritual food they get on Sunday by feedin' him upon cake an' preserves all through the week. An' when they can't ask him out, they're a sendin' of things in. There s enough jell an' spice-cake in the pantry now to keep him for a year. First they know they will ruin his digestion an' then they'll have him preaching hell-fire an' dam nation at 'em fit to kill!" It was true that everything feminine Ingenuity could devise had been show ered upon the young clergyman to re lieve the supposed barrenness of his existence. And from endless culinary delicaciehe found himself the posses sor of a bewildering array of Bible markers, embroidered slippers and sofa cushions, .all of which ho gave over Into his housekeeper's charge with a. rather helpless air. The church in Windham was only his second pastorate and he, was young and very much in earnest. He had been persuaded to accept the call prin cipally because he believed that here he bad found a definite work waiting to be done. From the first Sunday that he had preached In the village he bad set his heart upon securing the erection of a new church to replace the present old, dilapidated structure. Apparently his plan met with ready sympathy and encouragement on every side. The more influential men of his congregation, whom he approached first, listened to him attentively, and urged him to call and talk the matter over more thoroughly. Meanwhile, all the services of the church were well attended, and the outlook for success appeared most gratlfyingly bright. But subtly and and by degrees a con viction seemed to have insinuated it self among his congregation that one of the very qualifications which had at first recommended him to their fav or was, perhaps, after all, proving omewbat of a drawback. It began to be quite generally felt, and even dell' cately hinted, that a bachelor clergy man's usefulness was necessarily lim ited. Several kind, motherly ladi3s. the Pastor. HOWARD. vho were possessed ot daughters or .leces of a marriageable age, admitted o him (confidentially) that they sigh .d whenever they thought of the lone inesa of his ..fe in that great par onage. One or two even playfully re nonstrated with him there were so nany sweet, sensible girls In his con jugation who were in every way fitted o be ministers' wives. The Rev. Gilbert Bancroft was at Irst puzzled, then disconcerted, and .lnally genuinely annoyed at this so licitude shown on his behalf. He found It humiliating to admit that the interest and enthusiasm which he hon estly believed he had succeeded In .Housing in the building of the new -inireh were, in reality, only the thin olonk to various sentimental schemes for Inveigling him into matrimony igalnst his will. His young confidence and belief in his congregation wove severely shaken, nnd he passed inough a period of marked depression and discouragement, which Mrs. Kim bal noticed with an experienced eye. "He's beginnin' to find out what they are a-drlviu' at," she mused, "an' he's a tryin' not to have any un-Chrlstian thoughts agin' 'cm, poor man. Seems as If they waB afraid they wasn't a-get-in' their money's wo'th, hlrin' a single man." At first Mr. Bancroft had thought to put an end to these embarrassing suggestions by announcing firmly that he did not Intend to marry. But he was baffled and enraged to observe that this was indulgently regarded merely as the first step in his inevitable sur render. There was no apparent abate ment in the futile schemes to ensnare him, and he continued to find himself an unwilling, but outwardly courteous guest, at tea-tables traced by the pres ence of some demure and blushing vil lage maiden whose virtues and accom plishments were sine to be made the subject gf many a covert allusion for his benefit. The hwrtB ot his parish ioners were evidently Eet upon his marrying, and they, could give their attention to nothing else. The new church, in the minds of the ladles at least, was a secondary consideration, and could very well afford to wait. The thought of falling in this, his first ambitious undertaking, was in tolerable to him, but after six months of unavailing protest he found him self reduced to a suite of unholy ex asperation, and realizing that his patience was exhausted, he determined to seek refuge temporarily In flight. And so, having secured an old llmo friend of his seminary days to occupy the pulpit (luring hia absence, he ar ranged wilh the committee - of the church to b3 away fiom Windham for three weeks. The departure occasioned consider able surprise, and a number of theories were advanced to account for it satis factorily the most complacent ' and widely credited being that he had gono away to get the ring. Jo one felt ex actly in a position to supply particu lars, but a feeling of pleased expect ancy spread through the village. There were bo many vacant third fingers up on which that ring might fittingly bo placed! Gossip and speculation in creased as the time for hts return drew near. A sensation was confidently ex pected, and It came. The ttngueesed truth burst wltU the paralyzing suddenness of a bomb among the startled congregation. The Rev. Gilbert Bancroft had been mar ried quietly, and was bringing home his bride! . The news was received with mingled feelings of incredulity nud dismay. Mrs. Kimbal was appealed to on all sides for confirmation. Scant satis faction, however, was to bo obtained from her. She would neither affirm nor deny. "Anyway, it's just what you've all been a-hopin' an' a-prayln' for, ala't it?" she demanded. "I wouldu't ce so upset about it, though, if I were you. It don't look just orthodox bcln' so surprised to find your prayer's been answered." Mr3. Saxton voiced the general opin ion of the fiock when Ehe replied that if a minister made up his mind to marry "it seemed hardly necessary for him t' go outEide his own congrega tion." . "It wasn't necessary," Mrs. Kimbal admitted. "Land, no! But why do you s'pose I Eent. to the city when I got my new alpaca three years ago 'stead of buyln' it here to the store? Because they didn't keep the line ot gcods I was lookin' for. So it ain't surprising Is it, he should' feel the same?" . A few days later all doubts were Bet at rest when, just at dusk, nn unfam iliar covered carriage, with a large trunk strapped uehind, clattered up the village street, and stopped before the parsonage gate. The Rev. Gilbert Bancroft alighted, and then, turning, lifted out a Elend'er, girlish figure, stylishly gowned in black and wear ing a heavy veil. The two passed slowly up the walk, beneath the searching' gaze of half the village, the lady leaning heavily upon her hus band's arm. Mrs. Kimbal met them in the hall, the trunk was brought in, t,hcn the door closed and the carriage drove away. . The village gasped. The following Sunday all Windham attended morning service. But - its curiosity was destit.ed to go unsatis fied. The Rev. Gilbert Bancroft enter ed the church alone, and made bis way composedly into the pulpit. His eager congregation cor.ld scarcely wait tor the benediction to be pronounced be fore they crowded about hlra, congrat ulating and exclaiming. All the la dles, it appeared, had expected to see the bride at church. He met all inquiries with his usual reticence. There had always been something in his manner which check ed Inqulsltlveness, and it was felt more strongly than ever now. He thanked them pleasantly. Yes, it had been very sudden. Still ho had felt sure that his congregation would ap prove heartily of the idea If they had known. But -Mrs. Bancroft was very frail, nnd would hive to be allowed to do good in her own way. He had brought her to Windham only on the condition that she might be sure of the same absolute quiet in which, for the last few years, she had been com pelled to live. He hoped Bhe might exert a great influence for good, but would beg the Indies to excuse her from receiving calls. The flock with drew, baftled and a little over-awed. During the next few days, however, in spite of the request.v several well meaning ladles insisted upon "Just running in" to see their pastor's wlfo. But they were me by Mrs. Kim bal and the unchanging announce-5 nient that Mrs. Bancroft begged to be excused. No one succeeded in pene trating the Impregnable wall of priv acy which seemed to hedge her In. Occasionally, Just at dusk, she might be seen through openings In the shrub bery, pacing slowly up and down the walk before the house, leaning on her husband's arm. She was always trim ly gowned in unvarying black with a white shawl thrown about her shoul ders. She was very stately, with abundant brown hair, nnd in the twi light looked noticeably pale. These infrequent and distant glimpses of their pastor's wife were all that the congregation were able to ob tain. As time went on she took no part in the church work and attend ed none cf the services. Hor exist ence became the mystery of the quiet village life. Young Mr. Bancroft was dexterously plied with questions on all sides, but he parried them as skill fully with that guarded manner now become habitual. Mrs. Klmbal's invariable reply was pithy and almost belligerent: "I can't see as folks has any reason to complain. She married him, didn't she? not the deacons an' the whole congregation." , One determined effort and only one was mad to storm the lady's reso lute seclusion, naciu ueuuuu dhxiuii was chosen tor the task. Having been carefully Instructed and rehearsed by his wife, he made his way doclly up the grand path to the parsonage one evening when Kev. and Mrs. Bancroft could be seen taking their usual twilight promenade. At sight ot the approaching figure the minister turned and led his wife to the far end of the walk. There he left her and re turning greeted his visitor with a chal lenging cordlalily while the lady re mained standing by a lilac bush, her graceful. back halt turned. Deacon Saxton, very much disconcerted by the unexpected coolness of his recep tion, stammered out his errand. But before he hnd half finished he waa cut short by an Indignant exclamation from Mrs. Kimbal wno sped past them from the house. The lady by the liluu bush lay prostrate on the grass. Mr. Bancroft sprang to her side, per emptorily waving back the deacon, who, thoroughly appalled at the dis astrous consequences of his Intrusion, beat a hasty retreat toward the gate. There, glancing back, he could see the unconscious, black-clad figure being carried tenderly toward the house. Instead of being solved, the mystery had only deepened. Even the twilight promenades were now abandoned and no glimpse was caught ot Mrs. Ban oroft during the fall or winter. After many fruitless efforts village curiosity was, for ence, obliged to admit Itself completely baffled, and the mystery was reluctantly left to Time, tho great unraveller. Meanwhile, tho Rev. Gilbert Ban croft had been steadily at work rais ing money forthc building of the new church. Since he had chosen to set'.lo Lis own matrimonial future bo had been free to pursue his scheme, un hampered by the halo of romance which had before surrounded him. Public interest had shifted temporar ily from his own personality to his wife's and the former zeal of his con gregation for church work, abated somewhat. But he worked on steadily, his earnestneca and perseverance carrying him through moments of dis couragement and apparent failure un til, at the beginning of spring, he had accomplished the seemingly impossi Tblc the money for the new church had actually been raised. Then, one Sunday morning, he elec trified hl3 congregation by quietly reading his resignation. He felt, he told them, that his work In Windham was successfully completed, thanks to their own generosity. He had decided to accept a call to a larger church In a distant state where the opportunity for work was greater, for he was young with a young man's ambitions. In spite of the loyal protests of bis congregation, he resolutely declined to reconsider this determination, and dur ing the next few weeks began tho packing and Ehippirg of his house hold goods. Although he made no mention of the fact in connection with bis going, it was generally believed that Mm. Bancroft's health formed the real reason for the change. Would she leave Windham without meeting any of tho members ot her husband's church? This was the ques tion which the village discussed with growing excitement as the day of de parture drew near. But Mr. Bancroft calls alone, and in response to covert bints and open Inquiries, merely ex pressed his regret that his congrega tion could not uave had the pleasurf ef, knowing his wile, but he beggeu them to believe that he wduld have arranged it if It hnd been possible. He should always remember his Wind bam friends most pleasantly. "An' invalid wife is goln' to be a terrible drag on him," Mrs. Saxton prophesied to her daughter, Milly, as they watched tho slim, athletic figure striding down their front path to the gate. "But she ain't hindered him from doln' a grand, good work here. We couldn't never have got the new church if It hadu't been for him." The next evening the carriage which was to carry Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Ban croft the three miles to the station, drew up before the parsonage, and later the whole village heard It when It drove away. Mis. Kimbal remained over one more in; to close the house, then she locked the front door, hung tho key on its familiar nnll in tho woodshed nnd was carried off by the stage for a long visit with her broth er's family in North Walpole. The deserted house had a lonely look behind Us screen of shrubbery, as it stood awaiting the arrival ot its next occupant. Late one afternoon, nearly a week after tho departure of the minister and his wife, Milly Saxton burst into the kitchen where her mother was prepar ing supper. Her Bhawl, which had slipped from her shoulders, streamed out behind her. Her eyes were wide with terror. "Ma!" she gasped, clutching her mother by the arm. "Didn't Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft go last week? didn't we hear 'em go?" "Why, yes," 'said Mrs. Saxton, blank ly. "They were goln' to take that nine o'clock train at Derry. An Em'ly Kimbal, Bhe went next day. "Well, Mrs. Bancroft's come back!" cried the girl, hysterically. "She's up there at the house!" "Ch, my land!" exclaimed Mrs. Sax ton. "I Just ran up to psek In the window an' ste If they'd taken all their things, an' when I put my face up against the glass there she stood lookin' at me in that empty room, I thought I waB goln' to drop right where I was, but I just shut my eyes an' give one scream an" ran. It was awful!" The girl dropped into a chair. Her mother stood looking at her for sev eral minutes. Thn she threw her npron over her head and went to the kitchen door. "Ezra!" she called, "Ezra!" Just you step here a minute." Deacon Saxton appeared with an empty milk pail In each hand. "I want you should como up to the parsonage along with Milly an' mo. Mrs. Bancroft's up there. Sumethln's wrong or she wouldn't have come back." Deacon Saxton followed his wife un- questionlngly us slio led the way across the yard and up tho street and tuincd In nt the parsonagci gate. Milly, pale nnd frightened, brought up the rear. Mrs. Saxtcn scuttled around to the woodshed and, returning with tho key, handed it to ner husband. He unlocked the dcor and they entered the bare, forlorn-looking hall. "She's in the parlor!" Milly whis pered, Bhrinklngly. The two women stood huddled close together as the Deacon tip-toed over to the parlor door and pushed it open, gently. There by the mantel stood Mrs. Bancroft slenderly erect in her black gown, the white shawl falling about her shoulders. "Beg pardon, ma'am," said Deacon Saxton, retreating abashed, and pulling off his hat. , The lady stared immovably out of the window with her pretty, colorless face. There was not a quiver ot her stylishly-clad figure. With a gasp Mrs. Saxton brushed by her husband She cross the room and caught hold of tho white shawl then she leaned back weakly against the mantel-ploce. The power of speech seemed suddenly to have forsaken her. "There ain't any real Mrs. Bancroft," Bhe said, at length, dully. "There hain't never been. She's Just one of them wire Aggers, with a wax head, they have in Etores." Her bewildered gaze encountered a piece of white paper pinned upon tin sleeve. She unfastned It with trem bl'ng fingers and crossing over to the window read it aloud by the fading light. It was in Mrs. Klmbal's hand writing: "I promised tho minister I'd burn up 'Mrs. Bancroft' before I went away But I couldn't Eecm to do it, nohow, She was all my idea, and the minister he didn't like de-cehin' folks but he was drove to,it, poor man! If it had not Been for her he couldn t never have raised the money to build the new" church, and there's so many match-making folks in Windham It's going to be a lesson to them to know the truth." Mrs. Saxton s eyes traveled con Ecioilsly from the Immovable figure by tho mantel to where Milly stood be side her father in the doorway. "Em'ly Kimbal never spoke a truer word!" she said. Good Literature. Wanted One Mourner. The lawyer was drawing up En peck's will "I hereby bequeath all my property to my wife," dictated En peck. "Got that down?" "Yes," an swered the attorney. "On condition," continued Enpeck, "that she marries within a year." "But why that condi tion?" asked the man of law. "Be cause," answered tho meek and low Ijiftestator, "I want somebody to be sorry that I died." The Argonaut. New York city has one public partt that i 250 years old, and that is Bowl In-5 Green, which was the playground of tho first Dutch settlers. Grade Market Poultry. Grade poultry before marketing. If you have a lot of fat hens, a few old hens, persistent brooders, and some cocks to dispose of, grade them ac cording to Bize and quality. Good hens In the snme coop with old birds and broodies will not raise their quail- old birds ty, but they will be dragged down to the level of the poorest bird, and codks detract from the appear ance of the entire coop. There Is no good reason why a uniform price should be paid for all chickens. Farm ers Home Journal. The Difference In Breeding. An old breeder of Shorthorn cat tle says that his high grade Shorthorn calves nt weaning time will sell for as much as common breed steers when a year old. That Is a pretty good test of breeding when It conies down to actual dollars. The calf of high grade Just weaned nt a few weeks old has cost very little to grow it, but tho yearling common steer has cost over $25 to carry Mm to one year old. Our friend says thnt he is careful to keep a pure bred bull at the head of his herd of grade cows, and In this way always manages to turn off some high grndo steers for beef at 20 to 24 months old that brings him $85 to $95 per head, and of course he says it Is all due to good breeding and "good feeding. Instances of this kind illustrate the value of good blood at the head of the beef herd better than anything else can. Even with fairly good com mon cows, with a well bred bull, the herd can soon be so improved as to greatly Increase Its product. Indiana Farmer. Why We Should Cultivate. At a farmers' Institute, lately held, the writer hoard a city man remark to a farmer that If there were no weeds all the farmer need to do would be to sow his crop and then reap, and to my surprise tho farmer seemed to sanction almost every word of the re mark, as ho publicly gave vent to his feelings In regard to originating some thing that wduld annihilate tho weeds. Of course this man was no criterion to go by, but there nro hundreds and thousands just like him. Cultivating Is done because of several reasons and tho killing of tho weeds 13 but one of the many reasons. Cultivated plants will grow alongside of weeds, but, of course, will not do we'.l; but without cultivation all useful plants will fail to grow, and thta one fr.c t assures us that It will forty cr be Impossible for the f tinner to grow that which he has sown without a goodly amount of hoe ing or cultivating or something that will take their place. The cooner the "tillage Is manure" theory takes hold of our farmers tho better, for cultiva tion unlockB fertility and plants can not exist without It. Weekly Witness. Bran Mash for Horses. . This Is a common feed for horses by all good horsemen, but all do not take the pains to make the wash prop erly. An old horse feeder says that to make a good bran mash, first wash out a bucket with boiling water, then pouv In the quantity of water required, say three pints, and stir In three pounds of bran. jCover up and leave It for a couple of hours or more if not required for immediate use a mash takes hours to get cold and Is often given to a sick horse too hot and re fused when It would havo been taken If properly prepared and given warm Instead of -scalding hot. The addition of a tablcspponful of salt In the ordin ary mnsh of a Saturday nirht can be recommended to keep down paraslte3 and promote digestion, but should not be part of a sick horse's diet unless specially ordered. A mixture of lin seed and bran Is often prescribed, both as food and a poultice. To one part of linseed, two of bran I3 a desirable proportion for both purposes. To get all tho feeding valuo out of linseed, several hours should be allowed for cooking, not mere infusing, as with a bran mash, but gtntly simmering on the side of thu stove. The vessels should be filled and towards the .end the 11:1 may be taken o.T and evapora tion permitted while cooking. Indiana Farmer. Cultivation Makes Fruit. Wo must put brain work Into fruit growing to succeed. I believe over half tho fruit trees set during the past fifteen yeais have never paid the first cost of the tree. The trees, as a rule, are all rliht, but the fault is with U3. Wo ere allowing them to starve to death. Nothing on our farms will show good care quicker or make a larger return than a fruit tree. This is the line of argument advanced by V. P. Dt'Coster, of Oxford county. Me., in an address before the Maine Pomo loglcal society. Continuing, he said: "I believe we are making a mistake in allowing our trees to bear too heavily. I think a tree properly dressed, pruned and thinned will bear every year. When it is allowed to overbear it brings such a strain upon it that It takes years for It to recuperate. All small and wormy fruit should bo picked off before it ripens. I have visited many of the most successful orchardists of the state and it appears to me that the continued use of commercial fertiliz ers sown or spread upon the grass ground will cause the grass to become root-bound and bard and you do not get the results sought. "Cultivation aids the chemicals so that better results appear than when omitted. Fine cultivation with the ap plication of liberal fertilizer has been employed to the Improvement of both trees and fruit. Therefore, the result of my observation Is, that the orchard ists who are getting the best results are those who are fertilizing and cul tivating their orchards. Some are do ing it in one way and some In another. Apples should be thinned usually early In July. All varieties do not need It. Rhode Island Greening and Spy are In this class. Baldwins should be thinned." Care of Poultry. If your poultry house Is tight and dry, the hens- will not have roup or rattling In Ihe throat. A little cold is not nearly .so harmful as drafts or dampness. How about installing an Incubator for hatching In the spring? No farm er who started with a good machine ever regretted , the step. Think it . over. Weil give you some valuable pointers on the subject in the next Isssue or two. Then there Is another matter that Is becoming of paramount Importance at the present time. We refer to the matter of getting eggs In winter. Watch for some Interesting Informa tion along this line next month. But here Is something for you to think over in the meantime: The first es sential in the production of eggs Is the health of the hens. You can never have a flock of record-breaking egg producers if any of them are lacking In vigor or stamina. Hen's eggs are preferable to pullet's eggs for hatching purposes, for as a rule the eggs from hens are larger and contain stronger germs which give more vigorous chicks. On the other hand, pullets are sure to produce the larger number of eggs. The man who sticks to one breed from year to year, through all Its ups and downs, is certain in the long run to enjoy the fruits of his constancy. A good poultryman can make a good success with any breed. The comb of a fowl occupies the same position as an indicator of tho health as does tho tonguo of a person. A healthy comb 1s a deep red; any other color meansjbat somsthing is wrong. Give your fowls all they can do dur ing the day, but never all they can eat. In the morning givo them justenouzh to free them from tho extreme pangs of hunger and make them work for all they get. " Leave the filling of their crops till night. This will keep them vigorous and healthy and prevent them from getting into tho bad habit of in activity. Epitomlst. Notes From the Farm. Never shout at a young horse whllo training him. Good feeding consists in giving as much as the hog will eat. Give the hogs plenty of charcoal and ashes. Salt once a week. Keep plenty of clean water witnin reach of your hogs at all times. Much sickness among hogs is duo to uncertain quarters, wet pens and exposure. In cattle feeding, cow pea and alfal fa hay make up a good substitute tor wheat bran. Watch your horses' eyes. Many a horse could bo saved from blindness if comnionsense care were given in tlni"!. Horses which are judiciously fed and well" groomed will stand double the amount of hard work they would under careless care. , Tho brood mare should have a few hours' exercise In the yard or on the read every day. It does not pay to keep her confined. One hundred pounds of wheat bran contains 12.2 pound3 of digestive pro tcln, 33.2 pounds of digestible carbohy drates and 2.7 pounds either extract, or fat. Pigs suffering from scours muy be helped and many times cured by feed ing them milk that has been boilel and to which a pint of scorched flour has been added for each gallon. All kinds or growing stock should have plenty of exercise. Animal growth cannot be made successfully unless every muscle has had an opportunity to be brought Into use. Slaughter of the Birds. It Is said that Paris milliners clone consume every year about 70,000 sea gulls. One singlo dealer sold during the last 12 months 32,000 humming birds and 800,000 pairs of wings of ev ery description. A writer In the Gentlewoman cal: lates tnac more man tnree nundrlft million ot birds are sacrificed to lfj vanity of women in the so-called fv tlized countries and tnc- result of I he slaughter is already making itself felt. Some countries are cow almost quite depopulated ot their winged inhabi tants. The Labrador duck Is almost ex tinct. So is the pigeon of Saint Maur ice, the Auckland rail, tno bullfinch cf the Azores, the white headed titmouse and many others. 1 f M I r 1
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