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 LY) [ALL KIGHT3 RESERVED.] ri J t [TRH3ËSERVMAN HUN;1 flit. By TOM GALLON, Al Author of "Tatterley," "The Great Gay Road," &c. CHAPTER III (Continued). I SOMETHING IN THE RIVER. >] "You don't know who killed him? She veiled for quite a long- time, twisting her white fingers in and out, and looking down at them. "No," she said at last with- out looking up. Here was mystery on mystery, Manners thought. That she was concealing some- thing from him was evident; it seemed in- thiii?- i ,)Ie that she should have known any- thing about the matter, and should have for- gotten. There was some hidden reason why she would not sneak of what she had seen in that strange house m Leceii Street, Lambeth and the man who watched her now, as she stood with bent head before him, knew that it wee impossible to get that knowledge from her. "Why do you ask me what you should do?" he a&ked at last, a little harshly. She raised her eyes timidly to his; her hands went out to him clasped for a moment as if in mute appeal then they fell to her sides. "You were good to me; you brought me here last night, when I was alone and frightened "That was nothing," he broke in. "Why do you ask me here what you are to do, when you can easily go back to Miss Litch- field's house? "I can't—I can't go back there!" she panteid, like one desperately afraid. But if vou know nothing of this business, how can it' possibly concern you* he asked. "What is there to fear? You have been the accidental witness of this murder; you need say nothing about it. I'm the only one that knows—and I-- He had been on the point of saying that after this day he was not to be reckoned with; but he checked himself hurriedly. And as he did so another fear grew in her eyes and found expression there and this time it was for him. "Why—what are you going to do?" she asked in a breath. "Nothing; what should I do?" he replied. "And you think that I could go back to that house—saying nothing, and knowing nothing of what I have seen?" she asked him strangely. "Most certainly," he replied, watching her keenly. "If you know nothing, there is nothing you can explain—is there? She turned away, and walked to the door of the room, paused there for a moment, and came back to him. She looked at him steadily, and then asked a question with lips that quivered. "You think I've lied to you?" "I think there is something you will not tell me," he equivocated. "You think that I am connected—with that horror?" she demanded in a whisper. "God forbid!" he exclaimed heartily. Once again she moved away, and once again came back. He thought what a strange little creature she was, and, as on a previous occasion but a few hours before, he felt curiously drawn towards her. She was so frail and so lonely, and, as he recognised now. so very, very pretty. "If it should ever happen, Mr. Manners," she said, in a low voice, "that you were in any great trouble, and it was in my power to hc?p yûu-I would do it." He was more than a little touched, alike bv the words and by the eyes she raised to him, yet he laughed. "Because I got you out of a difficulty, and found you a night's lodging?" he asked lightly. "No—not for that; for quite another reason," she quickly. And then, when he would have spoken, she went on rapidly; "I will do what you say; I will go back to Wedgwood Square." She went quickly out of the room, turning even then at the last at the door to look hack at hkn; he carried with him the recollection of her troubled eyes for quite a long time. There were other things yet to be done; and after that strange parting he went out of the liltle hotel, and found himself again in the streets, with the lessening hours be- tween himself and the great crisis. At about that verv hour when Rodney Manners, feeling strangely solitary, stepped out i; J the streets, with but a vague notion of what was to become of him, a man roso from uneasy slumbers in certain chambers overlooking the Green Park. Very sumptuous chambers they were—the proper abode for a man about town, and a very rich man at that. And the man who occupied them was Murdoch Slade. It was a rare thing for him not to be able to sleep; he never remembered it to havo happened before. He sat now on the side of his bed, with his hands hanging inert beside him, and stared at the floor; raised his liaggjeird eyes once to look out of the win- dow to the waving tops of trees in. the dis- tance. Over there, as far as he could sec, was Kensington; could lie have thrown far enough, lie might have dropped a stone on the reof of that JlOuse in Wedgwood Square, so well did he know in what direction it lay. The Park that intervened had been the road always that led from his chambers to that house—and back again. He had got in very early that morning, without disturbing his man, who slept in a tiny room just off the hall. He remembered how, when he finally gained the inner room, he had sunk down, panting heavily, as though from excitement, or because he had been running hard; he remembered what a long time it had taken him to make up his mind to switch off the light in that room, and to go through the darkened hall to his bedroom queer things seemed to start out of the shadows everywhere. After a moment or two he raised his hands -pc)-,rt,-rful, brutish things with nails bitten down t:) the quick—and looked at them; very slowly closed and unclosed them, making the muscles swell on his heavy wrists. Then. more slowly still, lie turned them over, and looked at the backs of them. There was a long scratch across the back of the right hand, and three smaller ones on the left. He got up, and carried the kands to the window, the better to look at them: muttered something under his breath, and began to rub at the scratches, as though by doing that he would obliterate them. Finally he got back into bed, and, as though ho could not bear the light of the coming day. buried his head under the bedclothes, and lay there very still. He was in that position when later on his man tip-toed into the room to wd-ke him. And Hester Wake went on quickly throuh the streets, walking like one to whom something new and wonderful has happened. The horror of the occurrence of the night before was thrust at the back of her mind-a thing to be trembled at and 6huddered at; greater than it, and obscuring it. was the remembrance of something else that had happened, when for a moment the arms of Rodney Manners had been about her, when he drew her out of that awful house, and w' his lips had brushed hera for a moment as he whispered: "It'll be all right." She slipped into the house in Wedgwood Square without attracting attention; the dance had gone on so very late that the household was still asleep. She gained her room, and made some slight alteration in her dress; a few hours later she was, to all appearance, the quiet, demure companion who had certain duties to perform, but no real place in the household. The only inci- dent of that eventful day that need be re- corded here is one that occurred in that late afternoon. Murdoch Slade had come swinging across the Park, and had made his way to the hovse in Wedgwood Square, there to make polite inquiries, and to express the hope that no one was tired after the very jolly evening they had had. And it happened that, a3 Heritor was about to come out of her room, f ile heard his voice in the hall, and, opening the door quickly, went down. The man was passing into the drawing-room, with an ■ obsequious servant lidding the (Ioor for him, and for a moment the eves of and of the girl met. He bowed quietly, and smiled, remarked that it was a fine afternoon. But the door of the drawing-room had closed, and the servant had retired. Heater Wake stood perfectly still, with her hands clasped, and her lips parted; her face was white as death. And while she stood like that she did a curious thing. She sniffed twice quickly, as though striving to smell some faint odour that wns in the air, and to remember where she had smelt it be- fore. Meanwhile, Manners had shown himself— for there was no real reason why he should not do so—at his club, and had lunched there. A certain sense of peace was upon him now that he knew he could do as he liked for these few hours he put off the necessity for arriving at a decision as long as possible. It was quite late in the after- noon-t about the time, indeed, of Mur- doch Slade's visit to Grace—that a sudden idea occurred to Manners an idea that stuck in his mind. He found, almost against his will, that his thoughts began to be occu- Eied with the place at which he had said his body would be found after he had committed suicide. He tried to shake off that thought, but the more he did so the more clear be- came the recollection of the place as he had known it. Some years before he had taken a little unpretentious bungalow of some four or five rooms, almost on the river bank, at Charn- ley Weir. He had gone there to fish; it was the one recreation the busy man allowed himself. It was a very quiet spot, far away from a railway station, and Manners had been in the habit occasionally of going down there, and buying his own provisions in the village and managing for himself. It was quite the best holiday the man could have. Eventually he had bought the place. That had been some five or six years be- fore, and latterly the press of business had not allowed the man to take holidays at all the financial fight had been too keen to allow of his slipping out of the ranks. So that the place in that time had gone to rack and ruin in fact, one or two ill-spelt letters from the woman in the village who had looked after it during his occupation had reached him, pleading that the bungalow was falling to pieces, and that* something ought to be done to preserve it. But Manners had set those letters aside, and had forgotten them. But the key of the Chubb lock which he had himself placed upon the door was still in his possession he found himself looking at it musingly as he stood in the street. And on that quiet Sunday afternoon a great re- solve came to the man he would go down to Charnley Weir, and would see for him- self what the old place looked like—perhaps renew his youth a little in this last hour. He drove to Paddington. and found that he had about an hour and a. half to wait, and that even then the train would be a slow one. He lighted a cigar, "ml strolled up and down the platform, remarking the fact that there were very few passengers at that hour of the day, and half repenting of his purpose to go to Charnley Weir after all. However, he had purchased his ticket on pulling it out of his pocekt he made the discovery that for some unknown reason he had taken a single ticket, and not a return. He laughed at the thought of Staying at Charnley Weir—of all places in the world In due course the train came in. and even then Manners hesitated about going at all. He was wasting time hideously; there was vital necessity that he should get out of Englalll; and yet here he was, dawdling about in the very places where men woula seek for him. Yet it seemed that a power stronger than his own will was driving him J on upon some course the end of which he 1 did not know. lIe alighted as darkness was falling- at that little railway station which y,as the I nearest to the village of Charnley Weir; and now more than ever he regretted his journey. Nevertheless, lie turned his steps in the direction of the buugalow, noting as lie went the old familiar spots past which he had 1 gone often and often in the old days with the joyous feeling of a man looking forward to a holiday. He was more than ever sorry that he had come when he reached the bungalow. The palings of the little fence that had sur- rounded his garden were broken down in places; the garden itself was a wilderness. As for the tinv house, the rusty hinges of the shutters had given way altogether in one place, and the shutter lay half-buried in the long grass. There was a hole in the sloping roof, where tiles had been loosened by some gale; the whole place looked forlorn and disreputable. However, he put his key in the lock, turned it, and went in. ■ A rat, disturbed by his entrance, scuttled squeaking along the little hall; the wind swept in through a broken window. But the man remembered where he had left candles, and he had matches in his pocket.. He walked into the dining-room, which he had once thought so cosy, and groped about until ho found what he wanted, and got a light. He laughed a little grimly as he looked round the place. Giant cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and the wallpaper had peeled off in places and hung in damp strips from the walls. The furniture was fairly good, save for the dust. and the cupboards were locked. With half a laugh and half a sigh, he found the key to these, and opened them. He laughed out- right at the discovery that. after all these years, there was half a decanter of whisky and a couple of syphons untouched. "Not so bad, after all," lie said "though why I came down here I can't understand! I shall only get the horrors for no reason, and shall have to go without my dinner." He had brought some sandwiches with him, however, from Paddington, and lie then and there made an impromptu meal. Strangely enough, there was still no definite project in his mind all this was but a kill- ing of time. The thing was so difficult; lie was wavering from one notion to another, not knowing on which to lay hold. He laughed a little at the absurdity of his posi- tion, as he sat on the edge cf the table munching his sandwiches and drinking whisky and soda. All at once he stopped. with a sandwich half-way to his lips, and listened; then put it down, half-eaten, upon the paper bag in which he had brought it. Something or someone was stirring ill the next room— something larger than any rat. He took up the candle, and went out into the hall; and suddenly kicked open the dcor of that other room, and peered in. Something bulky and large and disreput- able rose from a corner, and stood against the wall, regarding him Manners stepped into the room, and saw standing before him a tall man, dressed in shabby clothing that was much frayed at the legs of the trousers and at the wrists of the coat: an unmistak- able tramp. The man blinked his eves at the candle, and grinned a little sheepishly. "What are you doing here?" demanded Manners, stepping further into the room. "I ain't doin' no 'arm, voi, can take my word for that," answered the man, not un- civilly. "I didn't know anybody belonged to this 'ere crib; I've slept 'ere this last three nights. Better than bein' out o' doors-ain't it? "Well, this happens to be my house, and I don't care to take lodgers," said Manners, curtly. "You seem to 'ave looked after it jolly well," retorted the man, moving about un- easily on his feet, and plucking with ner- vous, grimy hands at his short, fair beard. You must be mighty fond of it, guv'nor." "That's neither here nor there," said Manners. You can't stay here, and the sooner you clear out the better." As if in protest against such a summary ejection a little spatter of rain broke upon the windows as he spoke. The tramp shrugged his shoulders, and shuffled towards the door; looked back for a moment at Manners. "'Taint a night to turn a dmvg out in, much less a man," he said. The other's heart relented. "Here, you poor devil you can step here if you like," lie said quickly. Only you'd better clear out in the morning before I see you, that's all. Manners walked away to escape the fel- low's voluble thanks; the tramp dropped to the floor again. Manners, in the other room, finding that when he had eaten a couple of sandwiches he had had enough for his own wants, turned a glance on the whisky de- canter, and shrugged his shoulders, and marched out into the little hall. Here-v ou "I he called, "come in here The man came limping Iut of the room to- wards him, stood hes; .tJg at the door of the 'dining-room, w-!i greedy eyes upon the fare spread upon t 'to table. "Help yourself," said Manners, "and make the most of it." When the man limned across to the table, and, after bolting a sandwich in two bites, turned to the whisky, Manners had an op- portunity of examining him more closely. He was not an ill-looking fellow by any means, and he might, from his appearance, have been a soldier at one time or other. He was about thirty-five years of age-very dirty, but with a certain smartness in his bearing, even in the shabby clothes he wore. There was something of a humorous auda. city in the man's eyes as he looked from the glass he held to the open cupboard door. Strike me pink," said the man, but I'd 'ave 'ad that open if I'd known there was stuff like that inside. I've bin lyin' 'ere for three nights, within a foot or two o' that. an' never knowed it. Yer 'ealth, guv'nor "And yours, my friend," said Manners. Rummy place fer a toff like you to put up at," said the tramp, looking round the grimy walls. "You don't 'appen to be 'iding grimy w-, t., l s. from anybody, do yer? "What should make you think that?" de- manded Manners. This place belongs to me, and I came down and had a look at it. And that reminds me," he said, pulling out his watch and glancing at it, I've lost the last train back to town. I'd forgotten it was Sunday night. I shall have to sleep here." I "There's worse places, I s'pose," retorted the other, helping himself to another drink. Manners presently saw the tramp safely huddled up in a corner of that lower room, and, after locking up the spirits, went up- stairs in search of a place in which to sleep. Bitterly enough he regretted coming down to this place now, for he could not even go to the inn in the village and get a bed. He was well known there, and it would surely be mentioned that he had, after all, come to Charnley Weir. Besides, he was within a few hours of Monday morning, when he must be far away in hiding somewhere. The bedding was safely stowed away in an old-fashioned cupboard in the room in which he had always been in the habit of sleeping; he turned some of it out, Shid made up a bed for himself. Then he removed his outer clothing, and dropped it, higgledy-piggledy, on the floor; tumbled into bed between the blankets, and was asleep at once. He awoke in the morning with only a dim understanding of where he was and of what had happened; it took him a few moments to get the grasp of tilings. Then he sat up in bed, and looked about him. Was that foul heap of rags on the floor the clothes he had cast off on the previous night? A sudden idea occurring to him, he sprang out of bed, tore open the door, and ran downstairs. There, in the dining- room, stood the. tramp, looking quite re- spectable in the clothes of Rodney Manners; even the gold watch-cliain gleamed across his waistcoat. He had forced open the cup- board door, and, without troubling about a glass, was engaged in draining the decanter. "You ungrateful rascal-is that how you thank people?" demanded Manners; and made a spring at him. The man eluded him dexterously, and, dropping the decanter, darted round the room, and fled out of the door into the rank little garden. Manners, in the lightest of clothing, sprang after him, crying to him to stop. There was not a soul about; the bungalow stood far away from any other house. Manners saw before him the tramp, running hard and dressed in his clothes; it was desperately necessary that he should capture the fellow. Still shouting to him to stop, and feeling, with a sense of gratification, that he was gaining on the man, Manners followed the tramp on to the river bank. And then in a moment came the catas- trophe. The man as he ran looked back > over his shoulder to see how much he was being gained upon, tripped on the slippery bank, and, with waving arms and a despair- ling cry, plunged straight into the river. la the strong current he was swept away in a moment, and Manners, who could not swim, knelt honelessly on the bank, staring down at tltffe whirling water. "Something—in my clothes and with my papers and possessions in his pockets- drowned in the river at Charnley Weir," said Manners to himself with a shudder, as he got to his feet. "Something with a fair beard—like mine. And the river will wash him clean He stood looking about helplessly, shiver- ing in the chill morning air; presently he turned and raced back to the bungalow. (To be Continued.)
"GOOD MORNING I" I
"GOOD MORNING I" I Varied are the ways of national salutes, but in most European countries, when one meets a friend, we shake hands and say, "How do you do?" In other climes, how- ever, the methods of greetiag vary consider- ably. When two Arabians meet one another they rub their cheeks together, while a native of Burma pretends to 6mell his friend's lace, pronounces it sweet, and then asks for a "smell." On the other side of the world, the Aus- tralian natives have a greeting which, if it were practised here, we would consider very rude. They stick their tongues out at each other, but in exact opposite, if a Chinaman is riding, and allyon great passes, he imme- diately dismounts. The Hindu falls in the dust before his superior, while the Turk crosses his hands upon his breast, and makes a very low b<w, thus showing his regard without coming in personal contact with its object. A Jap re- moves his sandals, crosses his hands, and cries out, "Spare me F" The greeting that would strike us as the most strange, perhaps, both physically and mentally, is that of the South Sea Islander, who throws a jarful of water over the head of any friend whom he meets. How very unpleasant when one is to the theatre.
BIRDS AND CRIME. I
BIRDS AND CRIME. I A man named Woodstock, better known to the polioe and the denizens of the under- world as "The King of the Coiners," recently died in a London workhouse. During hia lifetime he flooded the "market" with his beautifully-made spurious coins, and for years escaped arrest, all by reason of a wonderful talking parrot he possessed. Whenever Woodstock was at work," he us-d to bang- the bird's cage just outside the window of his "mint," which was situated at the extreme end of a court called The Triangle," in the Borough. He had trained the bird to give him timely warning of the advent of strangers in the court. Thus, the pnrrot would call out: "Boy with barrow," "Two men," "Policeman," Woman with baby," and so on, thereby enabling the counterfeiter to hide or destroy all traces of his nefarious business directly a raid was threatened. Another interesting story is that concern- ing Power, one of the most famous of the latter-day Australian bushrangers, who trained a peacock to serve him after a siii-iiliir fashion. WbDn not out on one of his marauding expeditions, Power used to lodge with people named Quinn, friends and accomplices of his, and on these occasions? his trained peacock always roosted on top of the building, and no stranger could ap- proach it without the bird giving notice by uttering a 6hrill cry, when Power would promptly go into hiding amongst the dense bush which extended from the back of Quinn's house right away to the foothills of the Warby mountains.
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Deptford Council report that they are still storing furniture of ex-soldiers who cannot get houses. Essex War Pensions Committee are train- ing- disabled men to become secretaries of divisional sub-cosnmitteee. A provisional ptvper trade agreement pro- vides for day workers a 48 hours week, shift workers 44 hours. Walthamstow has revived a movement foi incorporation tv. a municipal borough with- out county powers. Opposition is expected from the Essex County Council.
r PENSION PROBLEMS:
r PENSION PROBLEMS: HOW TO SOLVE THEM. By AN EXPERT. How to Look at the Jig-Saw Puzzle Why we Should Cultivate Goodwill Small Holdings and the Ex-Service Mer -Agriculturiti Training: What To Do- The Case of Officers: Improvements That Have Come Into Force. FREE ADVICE TO OUR READERS. Things in general have somewhat the al). pearance of a huge jig-saw puzzle just nov. Sectional claims arise in this direction and that, and all demand to be fitted into the general plan of national life. l'int bottles will never hold more than pints, while the largest reservoir in existence can be drained. It seems to me that if the country is to do half what it wants to do, its output of coal and goods must be very much increased. Which really means that you cannot go ou paying cut without paying ill. The State has not got am inexhaustible purse. It would indeed he a bad thing for us if it could become an ever-flowing foun- tain of good things. Our manhood must ) c exercised, and I see no other cure for our temporary ills but hard work, and a spirit of goodwill among all class-es. All sorts of arrears have accumulated during the iast four years. Our prospeiitv depends on our ability to make good those arrears, chief among them being our invaluable export trade. Grousing does not get the pigs to market. But hard work, good temper, and confidence in Mr. Lloyd George will win us the pace..Any sort of quarrelling at this juncture would be both degrading and in- jurious. No one better than you Boys know the value of goodwill and discipline when a hard job has got to be done. I am ♦ # ft i?e to bo!4cl a I am sure you do not want me to hold o narrow view of your interests- Much thai goes on in the v?orld outside IMS some sort of bearing on those interests, and when- we get together week by week it lends a little variety to what at best is a dry subject if I do not allow the area of vision to be bounded by the circumferent e of a hat. One's rights and one's grievances are impor- tant, but it is unwise to brood over the: When action is once taken the wise chap plays with the kids, or takes the wife for a walk, while the Pictures have points when a "fit of the blues" comes aloiig. Up to a recent date about applica- tions for small holdings by ex-service men and others were reported to the Board of Agriculture by 52 County Councils. Between 7,000 and 8,000 of these applicants have been interviewed by the Committees of the Counties; and 79 Per cent, of them have been approved AA suitable men to have small holdings under the local authorities. Appli- cations for small holdings in the first in- stance should be made to the secretary of the County Council in the county town. At the same time tiie Board of Agriculture and the local authorities are co-operating to train the future smallholders or to find them suitable eKplovment. The Councils are arranging will the Board for the purchase of over 100,000 more acre. including up- wards of 9,000 acres to be acquired if neces- sarv by the exercise of compulsory powers. Where land has been unobtainable by amicable negotiation, local authorities have not hesitated to ask for powers of compul- sory purchase. Happily, in moet counties the majority ef the laiidewiier-t have shown the friendliest spirit, and about 38,000 acres of land have been offered by owners in response to an appeal issued bv Lord Ernie. Ex-service men can obtain all necessary particulars about agricultural training and so on, by application to the Secretary, Board of Agricultmie, 7~2, Yic- toria-street, London, S.W.I. All pensions except, I think, in the c-i,c of tota.1 disability are temporary fit first. This does not mean that there is any likeli- hood of a pensioner losing his pension, b::t that in his own interests a man should I e periodically examined, until the doctors can ascertain the exact nature cf his disability after a certain lan:, of tftne. As the re- sult of the final examination the pension i3 not infrequently raised. In any case, I e- fore the pension can be made permanent, it is necessary in the man's own interests that he should occasionally be "surveyed" by the doctor; but once a pension is made perma- nent, it can never be altered. It should also be noted that the period of the cur- rency of the present 20 per cent, increase on all disablement pensions has been ex- tended to the end cf the present year. Be- fore the expiration of that period I expect there will be a further announcement. < < Article 6 of the Officers' Warrant has been extended with the following eilect: In special circumstances maximum retired pay will be given to :a.n officer (whether married or single) who -was certified to be incapable of work, and for "whom non-institutional treatment was recommended by the medical authorities. In the case of aoII officer re- cciving institlitional treatment an allow- ance not exceeding £50 a year will be granted to his wife., or an allowance not exceeding F-40 a year to a dependent rela- tive (as defined in the Royal Warrant), pro- yided that in either case there --is pecuniary need. In cases where it was certified that a disabled officer s houid, in consequence of his disablement, undergo medical treatment i-u circumstances which did not render him unable t3 provide for his support and that of hjs family, but required him to absent himself from his work on one or more occa- s ions in a week he might be granted, in ad- dition to any pension, an allowance not ex- ceeding 20s. a week for the time he was required to absent himself. These improve- ments tend to show that the authorities are determined to keep abreast of the ever- varying needs that arise. ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. W. Me., Lisburn.—If you will send me full regimental particulars of yourself, i.e., number, rank, regiment, where demobilised, I will make inquiries. E. C., Diss.—Apply to your Local War I elisions Committee for a supplementary allowance under Regulation 1 of the Special Grants Committee. A. J., Sittingbourne,-As the case you site is somewhat out of the ordinary in so far as the character of service is concerned, the following procedure is applicable. For gratuity, war service, apply Secretary, War Office (Accounts 4), Imperial Institute, South Kensington, London, S.NIV.7. For back pay, application should'be made to the regimental paymaster of the unit concerned. In every case should be quoted clearly and in full the regimental number, rank, initials and surname of the soldier con- cerned, and the full title of the unit and fittttion in which he was serving. Report again if any difficulty is experienced. Our Pensions Expert is anxious to assist gailors and soldiers and their wives and de- pendents in dealing with intricacies of the War Pensions System. Address your queries to Pensions Ex- pert," c/o Editor of "this pa per. All essen- tial facts should be stated as briefly as pos- sible, such as name, number, rank, regi- ment of soldier, name and rating of sailor, particulars of families and separation al- lowance and (in inquiries concerning civil liabilities) pre-war or pre-enlistment in- come, present or war income, and full l-in- bilities. Do not send any documents, birth certificates, or discharge papers, etc. I Will correspondents please make a point of sending their regimental number, rank, name, and regiment?
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A motor-cycle and side-car WfTe stolern I from the door of Bedford Shire I-lall -hile the owner was inside registering them. Sir Joseph Thomson, Ma.s?r of Trimty h? '?cr elected to the Dewly-estabh?hcd Prcfe?or of Phy?.cs at Cambridge, withou. stipend.
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> =:><:><o".<r.<><><-< C- -< -<> 'y  'S- ,r' I' Y I TH!? WEEK IN GARD?.f-i I "Fruits that blossom first will first be ripe. Olbello. Mignonette.—When the short dark days are with us anything that reminds us oi summer time is appreciated. A few pots of mignonette in the greenhov.se will be wel- come for this reason Seed may be now in 5in pots. Thin the p'ruUs later or If three or four in each pot. It needs to be grown as co,) i ss possible and in full light, or miserable spindly plants will be pro- duced. Water carefully in the depth of winter. How to Destroy Wasps' Nests.—During April and Xav keep a i--harp hook out for queen wasps, which lca.ve their winter quar- ters, th-en to search for suitable places in which to form their nests. Again, during August and onwards watch for them: nests are then crowded with wasps. The destruc- tion of the queen wasps prevents the crea- tion of nests, and as a nest contains roughly 10,000 to 15,000 wasps, timely destruction means a lot. The simplest form of destruc- tion is by smoke candles, sold for the pur. pose. They are safe, effective, and cheap. Tar, paraffin, cyanide of potassium, etc., are all useful but require more care than is necessary with the candles. To keep wasps out of vineries, sponges dipped in turpen- tine and suspended from the wires have proved very useful. Fruit Borders.—There must be no neglect of borders under glass where the crops of peaches, vines, etc., have been gathered. The soil should be thoroughly watered when it becomes dry or is anproaching drvneiss. It is of no use- to pay attention to this when the crops are growing and then neglect the roots afterwards. Pelargonium. — Having completed its growth lay the pots of Show, Regal, and Fancy varieties of the pelarg-onium on their sides for a short period of rest. Insert cut- tings, which root on an open greenhouse shelf now, or stand outside under a west tfall cr fence. Stocks.—Make a sowing of Beautv of Nice stocks for wiiiter Grow the plants cool at all times: if there is one thing detrimental to stocks it is coddling them in a close and stuffy atmosphere. Ven- tilate the house freely, and keep the plants on a shelf near the roof-glass. Layering Carnations.— The old-fashioned method of layering greenhouse 'carnations nr late summer is now largely superseded by rooting cuttings in early spring. For the amateur's greenhouse there are several points in favour of layering: one notable item is that healthy plants are obtained by a period of open-air cultivation. In addi- tion to the Perpetual (American) varieties the named border varietie.s cultivated under glass should now be layered. # Increasing Roses.—Cuttings taken n o-y form a ready means of increasing one's stock of roses. Growths that are nicc-iv ripened should be chosen: if they have pro- duced a bloom they are ideal for the pur- por-e. With regard to cuttings of bush rotNCs and rombiers, apart from cutting be- low a joint and snipping off the lower leaves, no buds should be removed. Take out a V-shaped trench, place a thick layer I of sand at the bottom, and the cuttings in position, so that the bases rest in the sand, then cover with soil and make it firm with the foot. A north border should be chosen and attention given to watering during dry periods. Cuttings will root readily in water; fruit bottles or jam jars are excel- lent for the purpose. When rooted, pot them up and keep them under glass for a little while transferring later to permanent positions. » South African Cowslip.—Garden ioveri irith a cool or even cold greenhouse should grow this, otherwise known as the Laohe- nalia. Plant bulbs of the varieties Caws- ton Gem, luteola, ma-culata, Nelsoni, pen- dula, and tricolor. Pot the bulbs in a mix- ture of loam, leaf-mould, and coarse sand; five or six bulbs to a 5in.-wide pot. Grow in a cold frame until November, then move to the greenhouse shelf. In a cold house measures must be taken to protect them from frosts. < Fibrous-rooted Begonias.—The varieties of begonia semperflorens are raised readily from seeds. In a warm greenhouse seeds sown now produce plants to flower from Christmas onwards. These begonias root freely in peaty soil, the best mixture being equal parts of turfy loam, leaf-mould, peat, and coarse sand. Prepare a fine dust-like surface for the seeds; it requires little, if any, covering when sown. The v.vieties Crimson Gem, Coral Pink, and white and pink Fairy Queen a.re recommended. Red Currants.—To clear the bushes of aphis cut back the tops of the shoots if this has not already been done. In this way most of the insects will be carried off and can be burnt. The same plan answers for white currants only. Autumn Strawberries.—These will provo of great value later in the season, but must have good attention. Hoe and clear the beds of all weeds, lightly stirring the soil. Give liquid manure after rain, and apply a mulching of well-rotted manure between the rows. Give water during dry spells. Apples.—The thinnings from apple trees will now be found useful for cooking and ir.. other ways. The truit allowed to remain should be helped by watering and mulching over the roots of the trees. In thinning the fruits, if the clusters are thicklv placed they may be thinned down to one fruit. Gathering Ripe Peaches.—Handle the.se carefully as they become ripe. If pinched or roughly handled each merk soon shows and decay quickly commences. Each fruit should be lightly pulled from the tree. and, if ripe, will come away in the hand. Place in a cool room for a few hours and the fruit will be in perfect condition for desst-rt. Vegetable Marrows.—Always cut these before the, g-et too large. Any not wanted will retain their freshness for quite a long time if stored in cool quartel's. ♦ Endive.—Amateurs should give this Vilant more seriou.^ attention. The leaves o: tither the Batavian or broad-leaved variety iorm an excellent autumn or "winter salad. and may be used as a substitute for sninach. Watering Peas.—Where it is thought necessary to apply moisture to rows ot culinary peas, always do it thoroughly, giving sufficient to reach the ;owc.t lvotS. To water littie and often is more harmful than otherwise. # m Cauliflowers.—Nitrate of soda is one of the most useful of all fertilisers for this crop, but it irii --t not be used too often, or in quantities above half a teaspoonful to a single plant, or one ounce to a gallon of water. ? < d cr oft?en Ridge C v.cvmbers.—Red spider often plays havoc with these plants about now. I he dagger hom this pe?t wall b? greatly lessened if the roots are kept moist and the underside of the leaves syringed with soapy water. m Shalots.—Where these have finished growth lift the crop and complete the ripening in a sunny comer. Do not take them under cover until the tops are com- pletely withered. Store thialy on the open floor in preference to putting them in sacks or boxes. # -ett?Tll Autumn-Sown Onions.—T h?c are getting very near the?t?ge fcrripf?nins'. Move them from the bed and lay '?em out thinly on sacks, leaving the topa alone until quite shrivelled. Then cut away all but 2in. of the tops and store in a dry place. Early Potatoes.—Wh,ere the garden is small this ciop should norr' be lifted and stored in a dark place. The loss of weight this entails is not great. Whatever crop is selected to follow will make rapid growth during the month. Where the ground was well manured nothing beyond levelling down need be attempted baiore sowing planting again. Value of Liiiie.-All eilotraent crops need more or less lime in the soil to mature satisfactorily, but a crop which needs per- haps more than the majority is the cuinary pea. It does best in a dffl-p, well-manured soil, but no matter how rich the soil is, if lime is absent the crop will be poorer. Gardens that are he-arilr manured year should be limed orrery fifth vear, as lime is washed down into the subsoil and lost by winter rains.
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Four thousand deaths hare been reported in New South Wales from influenza since January 1. A cow being led to Stockbridge CHantsi Fair tossed a schoolboy named Parfitt and badly injured him.
MUSIC BY WIRELESS.I
MUSIC BY WIRELESS. I Have you yet listened to music by wire- This is the latest innovation at one of the more advanced schools of aeronautics. The invention is one that students of wire- less telephony readily foresaw. By setting a gramophone going in the ordinary way, the wireless transmitter sends out corres- ponding waves of sound which can be picked up by any machine possassing a properly receiver. Thus one may soar 10,000ft. un. and be 50 miles away into the bargain, and the tedium of the journey can still be relieved by the strains of the latest waltz or Jazz. But experts are not content to rest here. They propose to install aero- planes with wireless outfits which can be switched on at will to any one of London's emporiums of mirth and inii6ic! Imagine flying from London to Manches- ter. You press a button, pick up the re- ceiver, ,and in a few seconds find yourself enjoying the chosen strains, Tegardless of the fact that you are drawing farther and farther away every moment. In order that one or two persons should not monopolise the receivers a special kind of receiver has been made; this is merely .niacl e; this is iiierel y hung up in the cabin when the liquid notes of the singer ov the strains of the band flood the compartment.
ILITERARY NAMES.I
LITERARY NAMES. I e The child nomenclature of the country is astounding. Fancy calling your baby "Mons Robert Armistice." Yet vou prob- ably do not know that Barrie, the creator of "Peter Pan," was christened not only "James," but also "Matthew." Who among the devotees of Arnold Bennett are aware that their favourite author's first name is Enoch? A request for a book by Herbert Wells would probably make the most astute librarian and bookseller think more than twice before he realised that the author in- dicated was the famous writer who is so well known by his initials only that even his personal friends refer to liim' as If. G." Most Manxmen are content to forget that their own particular literary lion might be correctly referred to as T. H. H. Caine, his lessei-known Christian names being Thomas Henry; and very few of the readers of the historical romances of Stanley Wevinan would recognise him if we spoke of him— quite justifiably—as John. ■■
ASLEEP IN THE DEEP. f
ASLEEP IN THE DEEP. f The life of the diver is to most of us a hidden book, but according to a sea-captain who has had much experience of divers, these deep-sea explorers have a fondness for sleeping under water. "In the Mediter- ranean, for instance," he says, "the prac- tice is not at all uncommon. I once de- scended myself to visit a wreck on which divers were engaged, and there found several of them comfortably snoozing in the cabins! They prefer to get inside the wreck when they want a nap, because there is then no danger from ground sharks. It is hard on the employers, because the divers are paid by the hour, and get very high wages. Diving appliances are so perfect, nowadays, that in spite of its risks it is fascinating work, and there is something about it, too, that makes a submarine nap quite a luxury. There is a soft, undulating motion under water that, with the perfect quiet, is most soothing."
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Landslides blocked the G.E.R. loop line from Ilford to Woodford. Monmouthshire farm labourers threaten to strike if their demands for £ 3 a week are not met. Mr. Bridgeman says he hopes the control of fashions will never become one of the functions of the Board of Trade. Professor Findlay, Aberystwyth, has been appointed to the Chair of Chemistry at Aberdeen University. Lord Merthvr, Mr. L. Seymour Barry, and Mr. J. T. Harrop have each contributed £ 1,000 to the Merthvr Peace Memorial I Fund.
THE POULTRY YARD
THE POULTRY YARD mj Helpful Hints for "Backyarders." By "COCKCROW." t The diet problem with the poultry-kE-?J1P! I is an -ever-present one, for so much depends upon the success of cue's work according M '?he programme of dieting which is favoured. Grain food, we know, has to be carefully watched, and is an item in the food regime. Wheat is too starchy, while barley is t o,, heating, yet good short oats and some small niaiz^ now and again make an excellent addition to the food of the birds. Owing tc the difficulties in procuring sufficient quan- tities of nourishing food for fowls in Den- mark, a number of expeiiments with poultry food have been made, with the result that shellfish has been found to be an excellent food for chickens. A meal made from the blue mussels that are found in counties numbers along the Danish coast has been tried, ard it is claimed that this meal will increase egg production by more than 10-0 per cent. In the past one great trouble with 6hellfirih used as chicken food has been that when the weather is warm the mussels quickly spoil and give forth a very disagree- able odour. It is now claimed, however, that if blue mussels are dried at a very high temperature and afterwards ground to a comparatively fine meal. a hen feed is ob- tained which, if kept dry, is in no way objectionable and will last a long time. TREATING DIPHTHERIA. I The great number of diseases and com- plaints to which poultry are liable can con- venientlv be placed in two classes—first, minor ills, those complaints from which (there is little or no danger of fatal results; and class two, which ropes in all those dis- eases and complaints to which special care and attention has to be devoted to prevent death intervening. This latter class is a fairly long list—so long. in fact, that it would take a. good many weekly columns of poultry notes to detail and explain them all. This week however, I will return to the treatment of a disease that is very common among poultry, namely, diphtheria, and with which most keepers experience diffi- culty. Some people say that diphtheria is a modification of the ordinary roup virus. Whether it is so or not is perfectly imma- terial, suffice it to say that the complaint is very often combined with roup. the sufferers having ulcers about the eyes. nostrils, comb, or face, or on the outside of the throat or mouth, with the usual symptoms of roup. COPING WITH THE DISEASE* Many professional poultry-keepers who at anv time find any of their birds suffering from diphtheria do not trouble to effect a cure, but destroy the sufferers at once. Often this is the best treatment, but if taken in hand in its stage of infascy the disease is curable in many instances. The first thing to do is to isolate the sufferers. Take them from the other birds at once. for diphtheria, is most contagious. The isolation house to which the sufferers are moved must be absolutely free from draughts or it is a forlorn how of them recovering. Give them a slight aperient of about one-third of a teaspoonful of Epsom salts. From a local chemist pur- chase a bottle of ordinary chlorate of potass and perchlorate of iron mixture, and also a bottle of the following dressing: 4drms. each of glycerine substitute (glycerine it self being unobtainable) and tinct-ure perchloride of iron, 3drms. of sulphurous acid, and ]drm. of carbolic acid. APPLYING, THE DRESSING. This dressing should be applied to the spots twice rlaily-mol"ning and evening. A few hours ",ater siv, fivo or six—give a dooe of salts. The first few doses should he about one-third of a teaspoonful, feeding meantime on sc, f(-(! that contains nc peoper, but mixed with braodv and Take great car" when painting the throat of the sufferer, for there is the danger of a drop of the h-iion "going the wror'* wnr," and causing the biri to cho&e a" Fcr young stock suffering f'roiSi c. eria you will be doin? Ts ise to adeMy- the lotion with one-third of water. SJv.-u.id the inter- nal sores, that is the sores> in the mouth and throat, begin healing and yet the external sores make no progress, troat these with lunar caustic. After a few days, or at rroqt a week, of such treatment, some improve- ment should he notic-Aftbl*. If none is shown, take the quickest, perhaps best and certainly the most nierciful way of retting rid of the disease-that is, destroy the suf- ferer. I ERECTIG PERCHES. In order to realise the importance cf suitable perching KCO rnrrKxia t.i o n, one ha; only to recollect that qurte an appreciable portion of a fowl's life is ippeiat at roost. Yet this little item in oonaeotion with the housing scheme seems to iweive but scant consideration. Perches not be placed higher than ft.. except where the drop- pings boards au used, when the latter may occupy a position 2ft. from the ground, tho perches being Cin. a lore them. They must be at least 24in. apart, a sufficient number provided to allow each biad Oin. of roost- ing space. THE EGG CRITICISED. Is there anything that enoa pes criticism ill this world of ours? No matter what we cat, there are always aome clever people about to denounce it as harmful. Even the egg has been accused of harmfulness, but the. Paris Academy of Medicine has the assurance of a learned professor that its toxinity, which is another word for poison- ousness, is shown only in predisposed per- sons, especially in those poople who suffer with troubles of the liver or intestines. The poisonous principle, not yat discovered, is thought to be a toxulbumeu. [ RED LICE. Rod lice settle on the birds at night, suck their "blood and return to the perches and walls diirin. ilie day. As limewash- ing a house doe." not always kill them, it is best to drench the ierchci and Avails with creosote. The birds should be dusted with pyrethrum powder as well, and they must also be provided with a deep dust-bath im- pregnated with flowers of sulphur. At most poultry shows a good many of the birds are in a most unhappy state, on account of insect pests. Some j>oultry-keepers seem to think that it is ofily chickens that suffer in this way. The truth is that fowls of every age suffer untold miseries from this causc, and I am yny much surprised, savs a writer in "Farm Life," that the subject does not receive more attention. Certainly just now there is no more important detail of management.
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 service has been held in Ely La.hedral ? remembran0e of those members A, e ^,• rent E?t?rn Railway who died hi the war. Mr. Kennedy Jones, M. p., has opened Summerlee, his East Fiiichl-ey rk-, idence. as a branch of the Great Northern General Hos- pital. Herr Laux, a prominent German manu- facturer and president of the C hamher cf Commerce in Upper Pfalz, committed suicide because he was dejected on account cf the ^miserable economic isituati-on in the Fatherland."