Cheshire Observer

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ABRAXGEJIEXT.] THE ROGUES' SYNDICATE, By TOM GALLON, Author of "The Dea.d Inglby," "Dicky Monteith," "Tattorley,"1 "1e Lady of the C imeo," &c.. &c. [COPYRIGHT.] CHAPTER 1. THE HOTEL EMBANKMENT. The Hotel Embankment possesses certain ad- vantages over other London hotels which are not to be despised. In the first pbe2, it is the thoapest hotel in tho world-—and the airiest; there aro no restrictions, exc?pt that, to secuie- a place in it, you must retire rather eariy. Lights are fr(x--for they are the lights of London itself; and you may even have a share of the moon and stars, if the gods be kind. There- is nothing to pay —no troublesome servants to be- tipped—and no one to stir you up in the morning with ridiculous hot water or such other matters. In point of fact. the sun wakes you in tho summer, and the cold Taw morning air, or perhaps tho rain, in the winter. Not to carry the mystery any further, let it be explained at once that the Hotel Embankment is that long stretch of pavement- which fkirts the north side of the river, between the bridges of Blackfriars and Westminster; and you may sec- it pretty full on a summer night, what time certain homeless wretohes fill the seats which are dotted along its length. There is rather c. demand in the summer time; and SQ, if you would patronise it. you must be early the corner SoMts fill very rapidly indeed. In tho winter you can pick and choose a little. The company is a little mixed, for m. lsfortilne brings strange T»ed!cllows; and you may find a '■ strange head reclining on your s houlders at about the small hours. But quite a number of people s —too proud or too idle even to seek the casual ward-patroniro the Hotel Embankment. j If you had searched tho length of it. on a certain bright night in a certain Junf. you would have found among its occupants one to whom its hospitality was evidently -somewhat of a new ex- perience. A young man, fairly well dressed; for when one is young and good-looking, one does not pawn one's garments readily yet a young man in whose eves there was no sleep and who stared out hopelessly across the twinkling lights of the river. A young man so hopeless, indeed, that the river had an alluring sound, as it flowed beneath and tapped against the stonework; there was no hunger down there. And this was his, fourth night of the Hot,l Embankment. It had all been so different a month before. Arnold Kenway had returned from a lazy sort of tour in various parts of the world, to find him- self-a young man of four-and-t-wenty-faeed with the news that his fathElr was dying. Arnold was >-ui only sion—an. only child., in ,fact-an(i his mother had died years before Dying the father confessed with tears to the young man that he was ruined and bankrupt; that, with his death, every- thing he possessed would be swept away, to satisfy, in part, his creditors. So it happened that Arnold Kenway, who had never even troubled about money (except to ask for it when occasion demanded) found himself with a few coins in his pocket, and with the world —a very tough oyster inde--dto b opened Be- ing young, and not understanding- the business in the least, he set about his ,k. That was a. month aco; now he was enjoying 1 the hospitality of the Hotel Embankment. The timo that had clap" was a sort of dream; the beginning at restaurants ho had known :n better times. while he looked for a situaron at about four or five hundred a year; the coming- down to little places in Soho, when he would have been glad to accept something at about thirty shillings a week; the cheaper things, when pennies had to be doled out, what time he would will-ngly have taken up a spade and pick, if any srmde arid pick had happened to be forthcoming. Now, for four days the last copper coins had been parted with, to get bread; and to-night—fanvsherl and help- less hopeless and desperate he shared the Hotel Embankment with many other poor outcasts of the groat city, and stared out across ho river, j and wondered what the morrow was to bring. Behind him were the lights of tho great hotels; and the night was so clear that, more th 'n once, he had a vision of some ddicat.e erfatu rc" n beautiful raiment. flitting across behind the litrhted windows, to sit and sup there merrily— while- h- was hungry outside. A mo-nth ago ho had din"d there himself, and had looked out over the lights that studded the river, and had not had a. care in the world. Facing round again, he becamo awa.ro of a glc-am of light from a po!'ceman's lantern, sw('.ep¡[1 along the line of faces on the seats of the Hotel Embankment— f, cs of which his wa3 on:.>. I "lobi fct. to Sashes." sa.? d a ?,.oft b(,sido Arnold Kenway. "If you're under lock and key. serving his Gracious, they do it at night if you take the a.ir on the Hotl Embankment, they i still do it. "Flashes ought to be abolished they wear \110 nerves. The voice was so smooth and soft—even silky, if ?b?- term may be m.ed-that Amo'd Kenway looked round quickly at. tho apr?kc'r. Ho saw nw'an elderly man, of so kind and cheerful an aspect, that he might have been some benignant fairy, watching over the poor wretches who patronised that strange hotel. Ho had a Ion!?, white beard, which c-amo to a point, and which he twisted in his whito pudgy fingers ceaselessly; his eyes werf, blue; his attire eminently respectable. He had on a silk hat a little the: worse for wear, but adorned with that flat brim which scom, to grow on hats of a. certain class, and the skiits of his long black frock coat were drawn carefully across his knees. "Oh. it doesn't much matter, anyway," suid Arnold, with a little laugh. ''My dear young man," said the str?n?er. turn- ing round towards him. and g?nt!y smoothing out the tails of tho fiock coat on his knees while ho spoke, "permit mo to disagree with you. It is one of those things that are not well managed, in a world where Providence is f>rly kind to the weak and helpless. Look behind you" He ex- tended a hand dramatically towards the lighted windows of the big hotel. "Thanks; I have," said Arno'd. laconically. "They don't have flashes there, my young friend." went on the venerable gentleman. I "Nothing nerve-destroying there—and I believo the chef has a. European reputation. On the other band, we have no chef at all—or, at the best, one with no reputation. I ask you, young man, is it fair?" "Nothing is fair in this world." said ,Arnold. bitterly. "When you are suddenly cast on a world which does not want you, you begin to understand the gross unfairness of it all. A month ago I was there" —he jerked his head to indicate the luxury behind him-"and now I am here; and I am so devilish hungry I could go to the back doors of those places, and crave some of th" things that have been left from the tables That is," he added hastily, "if my cursed pride didn't stand in the way." '-Very %ad-verv sad indeed!" muttered the other, in his smooth voice., "although I am bound to contradict you once again, my dear young friend, and to tell you that pride is a mistake. Seize what you can—never by force, but by stealth if possible. I am naturally, as you may perhaps have observed, of a refined and gentle disposition; yet I justify my life in my own fashion. Behind" —he moved his gentle fat hand in the direction of tho hotel—"luxury, warmth, over-feeding, and possiblo indigestion. In front"-h: touched him- self on the breast, and laid a hand impressively on the arm of Arnold Kenway—"the best of com- pany, but nothing to cheer one. and all sorts or desperate ideas regarding tho r;v-r." He closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly. "Surely you are not the sort to think of tnat?" said the young man. "Oh dear, no" exclaimed the venerable one, softly, "Oh. not at all. I progress on waves, as it were; sometimes at the top, sometimes at the bottom; to-night I am at the bottom. I have a suspicion, however, that the wave is coming my way, and that I shall, ride, proudly and with dig- nity, on the crest of it. Wh211 I spoke of the rivpr I referred to you." "There are worse ends," said Arnold. bitterly. "And better ones," brok e in the silky voice. "I have no particular motto. my young friend; if I had. it would be one I had manufactured my- self 'Never go under unless you take someone else with you.' It's a lonely world, and I love company. You thought of the river, young man.; I saw it in your eves." "What else is there?" a-ked Arnold Kenway. "Oh. many things." said the old man; and a beautiful smile stole over his face. "I am here to-night for several reasons; first, because the night is fine; s?cond)y. because I am just one ;ilny short of the amount necessary to procure me the cheapest bed; thirdly, because I am in a contemplative mood; and fourthly, because the small amount I do possess may be put to better uses. Arnold Kenway said nothing; he only shivered, despite the warmth of the night. This man amused him, and it wis well to be amused some- times for an hour or two; the river could wait. "I was about to make a somewhat daring sug- gestion," said tho older man, after a pause. "I have two copper coins, stamped with t-he'head of his Gracious; those coins will purchase for you modest refreshment at a coffee-stall I know, near at hand. Will you permit me?" "You're very good, but I'd rather not," said Arnold. "You will want them yourself to- morrow. "My dear young friend. I never think of the morrow. 'Sufficient for the d-i v 'o.r even a little too much, perhaps. To-morrow, I may be rich to-night, the hungry must feed. Now. don't dis- appoint me; I've taken a great fancy to you." Arnold Kenway looked round at the old man but the faoe of that old man was bland and smiling as ever, although there was perhaps, a curious twinkle in his eyes. Arnold laughed, and got up. and nodded. "It would be churlish to refuse," ha said; "and God knows I need it "It seems rather a nity that we can't reserve our quarters in the Hotel Embankment," said the old man, as he rose, and as another shabby figure slipped along to the end of the seat. "These cheap hotels have always a disadvantage of some sort: one doesn't get the attention one could desire." He chatted pleasantly aT he walked along beside the young man; lie even seemed to know one or two of the figures on the benches, and had a word or two to say about their histories Coming at last. after crossing1 Blaickfriars Bridge, to a coffee-stall, he was excessively polite to the stall- keeper, and enquired anxiously about business. At nst he. made his order. 'A cup—as freshly made as T)ossiblo of that excellent- coffe of vours" he said; "and if you could add an additional lump of sugar, my friend would be grateful. Now, sir"—he turned to Arnold, quite with the a/r of one deciding about an expensive dinner at the Oarlton or Prince's— "would you prefer cake, or do you think that-" A mold Kenway decided on cake—as being more of a luxury, and, by reason of its stodginess, more substantial. Ho drank the strong coffee grate- fully, and began to look with very different eyes upon the old gentleman beside him That old gentleman was softly rubbing his hands one over the other on his somewhat capacious waistcoat, and was watching Arnold appiovingly. with his head on one side. "A.h. my young friend, I see a hint of returning animation/' he said. "The river does not clamour qUJte EO noisily for you, eh?" I "Not quit- replied Arnold, laughing in spito of his misery. "Come. I owe you a debt of grati- tude, small though it may appear. What arc your plans? For to-night I am your very humble I servant. Instantly the .old man lm.ked hi. s arm in that of Kcimay, and began to walk with him across the I blidge. talking glibly in his smooth, oily voice as he went. "My dear young man, let me begin at onco by saying that I am a creature of mood-5, with a temperament of indiarubber. In effect, I bounce, andthe harder tho substance against which 1 am thrown the better do I bounce. In that sense I am a Socialist. To-day I have been hurled very heavily against a very hard substancc—to wit. the world. And to-night I am going to bounce high "One can't bounce high with empty pockets, said Arnold.. "Oh yes, one can; for the very simple reason that one is lighter," retorted the venerable man. "And to-night you and I. though we wanaer through London with empty pockets. will play a great and glorious game of bluff; to-night we will leave the Hotel Embankment, and put up wite. superior accommodation." Ho chuckled softly to himself as he spoke, and rubb-d his disengaged hand over the hand which rested on Arnold s arm. "Will you explain?" asitcd Arnold, a little diy. co My dear boy (forgive the familiarity of the address, but to-night you are very dear to me indeed-almc)st priceless), I intend to invade Society. Wo are both men of education, and here he coughed doprccatingly-" of refinement. We will leave the Hotel Embankment to such loafers as it should fittingly accommodate. and we will go higher. There is an old motto whici says, 'Who aimeth at the sky shoots higher far than he who means a tree' and t0-night we .11 aim high indeed. I am going to the Hotel I c,r- court-that great palace whose lighted windows we looked up at just now, the place which froats the Strand, and backs upon the hotel we h..ve recently vacated." ???'?absurdity exclaimed W.l drawing away from him. Why, we haven t a coin between us-not a farthing." Wh I ch is all the more re?on why we should go there. At a smaller establishment they might go there. At a smaller establishment tney m  ht look out for farthings or copper coins general y at the Hotel H?-coart they don t deal in ?vh_ things at all. Come, my boy, COUI age-cc>ung<) it we play the game with stiff upper lips. we shall win. At the best, we can get a meal ?nd ? a ?d ?' the worst, we can be tUlned out ? im- po,t?rs. Choose: another night-hungry and ?nairm?-?u the Hotel Embankment; on the other h?d? well-spread table and a 5or"to"1" bed afterwards. Bohemians never think of the morrow. Arnold Kenway thought of the morrow- thought, indeed, of the night before him. Another night by the sighing river—herding with the scum of a great city; another night oi hunger and hopelessness. What did it matter? He had done nothing wrong, and ho had a right (or so he thought) to all that should have been his under happier circumstances. He turned to the other man, with a sudden quick heightening of his colour, and with a sparkle in his eyes, "Ric-ht: I'll do it!" he exclaimed, with almost a sob in his throat. I At once the scene changes, said the venera,ol,e man, with a little contented sigh. I, liOCn Chicklev. gentleman at large, am. taking the air on a summer night, before returning to my hotel with a young friend bearing the name of —— He paused expectantly, and twisted the point of his white beard. "I might as well be frank with you, said the other. Nlv name is Arnold Kenway, with noth- ing very much to be ashamed of, and notning very much to be proud of. I thought once I was going to be rich. Fortune played me a trick." All the more reason why you should play Fortune another trick in exchange, said Chicklev, with another chuckle. "I intend to o-et to-night into the Hotel Harcourt, and trust to luck. Why, my friend, should others feed on the best, whilst you and I Never. To- night we take the world by the throat, and s^ nake something out of it!" One can always be bold before the occasion arrives; it is easy to promise what one will do, while yet the actual doing can be put off. but when Arnold Kenway was actually passing into the courtyard of the great Hotel Harcourt. with the venerable figure of Mr. Enoch Chickley enng- ing to his arm, and with the sure and certain knowledge that neither of them had a penny III their pockets, his courage began to fail. He drew back and drew Chickley with him. It's no good; they'd spot us in a moment," he whii;red.. cura., W11ï..?(,1"ed tlle otovfet, nh I arm. "They won't ask for your credentials on the doorstep: all we want to gain, at first. is time. You do not appear to have parted with any of the substantial parts of your wardrobe: we shall pass, muster easily enough." But we have no luggage. We'll invent some—or invent an excuse for its non-appearance. Trust to Enoch! Lean on Chickley!" They went saunteringly across the courtyard, and up towards the great open liallvyay of the hotel. Porters in uniform were standing about, and the warmth and light and luxury within seemed to come out at them with a rush, to drive them back. But Mr. Chickley hummed a little tune, and laughed as he walked. They were within a few yards of the door, when a four-wheeler cab passed them, going towards the hotel. The quick eyes of Mr. Chickley noted that, although the roof of the cab was piled with several trunks, and there were various bags and packages inside, the cab itself had no occupant; evidently the person to whom the luggage be- longed had sent it on to the hotel. As the driver turned his cab at the door, and the porters were hurrying forward, a curious accident happened. The driver had stood upon his box, in order to pull the trunks from the roof of the cab; tossing the reins on to the horse's back, lie threw them so carelessly that they slipped, and fell into the road; leaning forward quickly to get them, with one hand on the animal's flank, he startled the horse in some fashion, and it began to move. One of the porters ran to its head; but, before anything could be done, the frightened animal, further alarmed by the shouts and cries and the glare of light about it. turned, with the reins dragging, and started off through the courtyard towards the street. The driver held on, and vainly shouted to the horse to stop. Swaying from side to side, the cab reached the big archway leading into the Strand; and there the front wheel struck the side of the gateway, and the vehicle went over with a crash. Arnold Kenway saw the usual London crowd gather quickly, and ran out instinctively through the courtyard. As he thrust his way through the crowd he felt rather than saw that Mr. Enoch Chickley was holding tight to his arm. Our chance!" breathed Mr. Chickley; but Arnold did not understand then what he meant. The unfortunate cabman had been pitched off the cab on to his head; he lay stunned in the roadway, with a policeman vainly trying to rouse him. Then, while they looked, the policeman hailed another cab that was passing, and, with assistance, lifted the unconscious man in; the cab started off on the short, way to Charing Cross Hospital. The luggage which had been scattered about the road was got together, and twenty willing pair of hands were righting the cab, and holding the trembling horse. Then it was that Arnold Ken way became aware that Mr. Enoch Chickley was speaking in a tone of authority. Will you be good enough to carry my luggage to the hotel?" he said to one of the hotel porters. "How glad I am that I did not travel in the cab myself! Poor fellow I must go to- morrow. or to-night, to see how he is. Come, my boy"—he turned to Arnold, and began to lead him towards the hotel-" come with me; I am quite s haken. Poor cabmn I sincerely hope he was not married Unfortunately, most of these people have large families. I must provide for them I must certainly do something for them. Preceded by the obedient porters bearing the luggage and with respectful murmurs regarding his kindness of heart following him, Mr. Enoch Chickley, still gripping Arnold Kenway tightly by the arm went slowly towards the hotel. Arnold, like one in a dream, suddenly found him- self respectfully greeted, and half-a-dozen people willing and anxious to obey his slightest request. He dared not think; he could only follow blindly where he was led. "A frightful thin,a t(,rribtd disaster!" mur- mured the old imnostor to the sympathetic manager, who had hurried forward on hearing what had happened. "I was strolling up with my young friend here (I hate four-wheeled cabs. and never ride in them) and my luggage was just before me. I trust nothing is damaged; and I hope the poor man will recover—a little later." he addod, thoughtfully. A short period of in- sensibility is always better in these cases—so restful, you know." Have we reserved anything for you, sir?" asked the manager. No—I think not I had no time to wire. Give me the best you ran—not too high up. And I would like a meal: I am much shaken. Please do not worry me: do rhe best you can. If you can manage to seori across to the Hospital. to en- quire about the unfortunate cabman (I paid his far- beforehand) I shall be obliged. In a dazed fashion. Arnold Kenwav allowNl himsplf to b" ushered into a room. and presently fnunrl himself sr>at<>d at a table, with the smiling oland fnce of Ir. Enoch Chickley beaming before him. Silent-footed waiters hovered pbout. and something that tasted good was on a plate before him more than that. wine that sparkled in the light was in a glass at his hand. He dared not remember that, less than half-an-hour ago. he had been a homeless outcast on the Hotel Embank- ment: he swallowed the wine. and smiled in a sickly fashion across at the magician who had worked these wonders. I have registered—and all is serene and com- fortable," said the smooth voice of Mr. Chickley. Quite a nice brand this—isn't it? I remember, when I was a younger man. tasting a wine like this in New York; it ouite brings back old memories." He raised his glass, and bowed across the table. To our better acquaintance "For God's sake listen a moment," whispered Arnold, looking furtively about him. "I'm not used to this sort of thing: apparently you are. If vou don't tell me what vou're going to do, or what you hope from all this, I shall have to get up and shout out to these people who we are and what we are, and the lie we are acting. I can't carry the game on!" Mr. Enoch Chickley said nothing; still smiling, he lifted the bottle beside him, and poured more wine into the glass which stood beside Arnold. Drink that. he said in a low voice, "and listen to me. Don't lose your nerve so early in the game. Arnold Kenway drank the wine, and began to feel, after all, that the game was worth playing, lie heard the smooth, oily voice of Enoch break- ing in upon the silence. Start up, and shout, by all means, my dear boy; and find yourself outside the Hotel Harcourt in the charge of a policeman, within two minutes, said the old. man.. It would at least bo honest" stamncred Arnold, hotiy. ?ied NIr. Chickley, ?- I?t to me, repued Mr Chickley softly. "I gave you, young man, atll I possessed in the world small though it was, the debt re- mains. Exposei yourself, and you expose me; wh ch is a poor return for my hospitality, For- tune has favoured us; the world is before us, and the ball at our feet." They proceeded with a liberal repast in com- parative silence. Mr. Enoch Chickley was par- ticular about the second bottle of wine, and quite i- di^nant because he had a suspio on Wat. it was eort?d he al'o sent ba.ck his coffe3, b?eau? it was not rot enough. It was evident that those who waited upon him were impressed wit,h the fact that this was a very important man indeed. When, at the end of their meal, they were sciated together in the comfortable smoking-room, with a large cigar apiece, and a liqueur before. each, Mr. Chick- lay explained the situation further. "Until the luggage is actually claimed, we are safe; it is a guarantee agal 't anv suspicion on the part of the hotel people. If it should be claimed —weli, then we must make the best of a difficult business, and invent what excuse we can. The cabman can't speak, because Providence ha? put  whic;1 renden  In;]- him into that condition which renders speec-n im- possible; and so far 110 one has ciaimea t.10 JUg- ,ao-e. We are, I admit, in a. somewhat kgn place, but we will play the game like geutlemen." "With no money!" suggested Arnold, with a bitter laugh. "Money is a secondary consideration in a plaoe like this; we get on comfortably with credit. Don't quibble, my dear boy; lean on your Chick- lev, and hope for tlle best." Now we have no reason, and no desire, to ex- plain or to excuse the conduct of Arnold Kenway. All wo would urge is that he had had. four days and nights of homelessness and misery in the great lonely world of London; that he had rubbed shoulders with the lowest outcasts-forlorn, like himself, but more used to hardships; that he dreaded another might of it, unciier any circum- stances. Let it be remonibered, too, that sudden- ly he had been thrust, against his will, into all that I he remembered as having made life pleasant and good before; he was back again into what ne con- sidered his proper position in the world. He who, so :"h.crt a time before, had sat hopeless and famished on a bench in the open air, sat down on a comfortable, well-upholstered seat, smoking an excellent cigar, and looking at those lights across the river at which he had looked so despairingly before. Without making excuses for him, is it to be wondered at that, for a time at least, he let thoughts of right or wrong go to the w.nds, and wa.s content to be comfortable? "A little later on," he thougnt, 111 sEp out. and leave this old rascal, and have done with it. Then, some day—soon, I hope—when I m ri.Ih, I'll come back and pay these people what I owe them I won't take what I can't pay for. After all, this is only borrowing—to give me fresh strength to go on. and make a better fight for it." He had fallen into a light slumber, when ho was rcu-ed by the touch of a hand on his arm. Starting- awake, almost with ti-io belief that he was stll on. the hard bench on the Embankment, he looked round quickly, and gazed into the eyes of Mr. Enoch Chickley. Enoch was as bland and smiling as ever, his voice stiil silky; but his words were startling. I "My dear boy, the crash has come! he said, in a- whisper. Arnold started, fully awake, and looked round. A disturbance of some kind was going on in the hall of the hotel; there was a loud and a-n.gry voic* expostulating, and the manager's smoother tr.i10S endeavouring to explain. "The gentleman who has been so careless about his luggage," said Mr. Chickley, in a low voice, "has turned up. Naturaly, he demands it; let us go out and reason with him." He rose as he pake, drawing Arnold with him. "Don't be a fool t" e.xclaimed Arnold Kenway. "You've got me into this; the best thing we can do is to make, a bolt for it. You get out first; I'll knock down anyone who stands in the way." Mr. Enoch Chiokley turned, and laid his fat white hand", on Arnold's breast, to keep that im- N? o w. my dear boy, petuous young man back. "Now. my dear boy, let's have no violence," he urged, imploringly. "Let us, whatever happens, be mild and gentle; much may be done w.th that. Wo may be able to persuade this geneleman that the luggage is not ¡ his or we may even-" "Don't talk rubbish," said Arnold. "At any rate, I suppose we've got to face the music; come along." Out.F"id,c, in the hall, a tall, thin, doermin,ed- looking man was angrily facing the. manager. Th a tall gentleman was exceedingly well dressed, and had a commandm^ way -ith bim; angry though he was, his voice was gentlemanly in the extreme, and he was evidently one quite easily able to command attention whorl ho wanted to do so- ."i.t i.s no use "My good man," he was avin-, "it s no use tpH:ng me that someone cse has claimed my lug- gage; there has been a great, mistake. I sent it here on a cab; I had an appointment, and in- tended to follow later. You tell me that seine luggage arrived On a cab; that an accident oc- curred; and that that luggage was claimedl by two gentlemen who arrived at the same moment. Where are those gentlemen? I shall be glad to see them." Is anything the matter?" asked Mr. Enoch Clilekley, in his smooth voice, as he stepped for- ward. "I shall be glad to be. of assistance if possiblo. P40 the curious thing was that, instead of the ta'l. thin stranger demanding to know what it had to do with him, or waiting fcr any explanation about the. luggage, he no sooner heard the voice of Enoch than he stopped and faced about, and stared at that venerable gentleman with a drop- ping jaw, and looked, in some confusion, from him towards the manager. In the momentary silence which followed, the manager stepped for- ward. Pardon me, but..I fear there has been some mistake. This gentleman "—he indioated the tall stranger—" sent some luggage here, and seems to suggest that it is the luggage you and! this genitleman claimed." I think not," said Mr. Chickley, sweetly, with his eyes full upon the stranger. "I'm afraid," said the) stranger, after another pause—" I'm very much afraid that I am in fault, after all. Can you tell me what hotel this is?" "The Hotel Harcourt," said the manager. Still looking straight at Enoch Chickley, the stranger said. ;,n a curious low voice—" I am afraid no apology will quite cover my blunder. It will scarcely be believed, but I have come to the wrong hotel. I certainly did send some luggage, but not to the Hotel Harcourt. I beg a thousand pardons. Don't mention it," said Mr. Chicklev, blandly. C-coi iiight I hope you will find your luggage." But the stranger had walked out of the hotel, without once looking round. Mr. Chiokley took the arm of Arnold Kenway, and marched him back to the smoking-room. My dear boy," he said, with a chuckle, we are firmly est:¡.b¡;h!'<1!" (To be continued.)

I A FARMER'S WIFE ATTACKED. Not far from Monikie, a quiet little village near Dundee, lies Denhead Farm, tenanted by a farmer named Davidson. Mrs. Davidson was until quite recently, frequently attacked by acme biliousness, ir;digeston and headache. She has now been completely cured by Charles Forde's bile beans, and in gratitude has given the facts of her case for publication. Says. she:—" For twenty years peace1 and rest were denied me in consequence of acute biliousness and indigestion. Night after night I had to s-t up in bed racked with pain. My j head) often felt like splitting, and the pains across my back, shoulders, and stomach, were almost un- bearable. I held cold, damp cloths to my head to case the pain, and I tr.ed to brinig up the bile from my stomach by making myself sick, but it was all to no purpose. Day and night I suffered alike. I would be going about doing my work, milk- ing the cows, and doing other farm work, when suddenly a mist would rise before my eyes and almost blind me. I was also subject to dizziness, and often when I crossed the farmyard I would turn dizzy and so faint with pain that I have had io walk about almost doubled in two. A doctor in Alyth told me that the biliousness and indo ges- tion were of too long standing to be cured. Then a few months ago one of my sons heard of Chas. Forde's bile beans. I tried a box, and after a few doses I got a might's undisturbed sleep—the first for twenty years! As I took the beans I got better and better, and I am glad to say I am now quite cured. I have no pain whatever, and am in better condition than I have been, for twenty years. Life has again become pleasurable. I owe my present health solely to bile beans, and I cannot speak too highly of them. My husband and family will bear witness to what they have done for me." Charles Forde's bile beans, which effected the above-mentioned remarkable cure, are an absolute specific for indigestion, biliousness, liver and kid- ney disorders, pa.ins- in the, side, loins, and' back, constipation, piles, dizziness, sleeplessness, nerv- ousness, anaemia, and all female ailments. Also for colds, chill, neuralgia, lumbago, rheumatism, and as a preventive of influenza. Of all chemists at one-and three-halfpence or twe-and-nino per box. Avoid substitutes and imitations, which are harmful.

On Friday, in the King's Bench, Miss Annie Lancaster (41) was awarded JC25 damages for breach of promise against Lionel Pretty (32), a clerk. The parties met at Clacton in 1895, and became engaged. Last year defendant wrote that he thought it would be an ill-assorted union on account of the disparity in ages. DR. WATSON'S KIDNEY PILLS are strongly recommended to people suffering from Lumbago, Gravel, Pains in the Back, and all disorders of the Kidneys. These Pills do not purge. Is. per box, post free, from W. Roberts, chemist, 73, Brook- street, Chester. TO MOTHERS, Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup has been used over fifty years by millions of mothers far their children while teething, with perfect success. It will relieve the poor sufferer immediately. It is pleasant to taste it produces natural quiet sleep, by relieving the child from pain, and the little cherub wakes up as bright as a button." Of all chemists, la. lid. per bottle. I

COMBINATION. I RESULTS UP TO DATE. ^-Goala-* P W. L. D. ForAgot. PtiL Chester 8. 7. 1. 10.14 Birkenhead 7. (» 1. 0.15. 7 12 Oswestrv 7 r; 2. 0. 17.12 11) Broughton 7. 4 2. 1.19 .11. 1) Nantwich 6. 3. 2. 1. i.6 11 7 Wrexhu.m 7. 3. 3.. 1.14.11. 7 Witton All)ion 1) 2. 4.. 3.15 21. 7 Rhyl 7.. 2.. 4.. 1 12.15. 5 Chirk 8. 1. 4.. 3.18.28. 5 Tranmere Rovers 5 2. 0 ..11 17. 4 Middlewich n. 1. 3. 2. 8.14. 4 Winsford United 8 1. <> 1.10.19. 3 Bangor 5. 1 3. 1. 8 ..18. 3

RUGBY UNION. I I CHESHIRE v. NORTHUMBERLAND. I The county season opened at Birkenhead-park on Saturday, but unfortunately for the comfort of the spectators, rain came on just prior to the start. There was an important change in the Cheshire team, Terry standing down at three-quarters, and thus R. Anderson found a place. There were several changes on the side of Northumberland, mostly m the forward ranks, Russell standing down for Harrison at half-back. Potts kicked off for Northumberland, ram then falling heavily. A dash bv the North forwards found Cheshire penned, but Hulme extricated, and midfield play followed, Wallace dribbling down close to the quarter flag. There was little between the sides, plav being keenly contested. In close following Cheshire werp awarded a free kick, but nothing resulted, although in close following Hucthinson dashed over. Nickels failing at goal. Fine passing by the home side again caused the visitors to defend, and at tinles they were lucky in staving off the disaster. Bird got over again and Meredith improved. Cheshire continued to hold the monopoly, shewing superior football. A burst by the Northerners presaged danger, and from a mark Potts had a free shot at goal, the ball going wide. A moment later Hartley gave his side the advantage, the ball going to midfield, where scrimmaging took place, and the visitors had all their work cut out to keep their line intact. Give-and-take play followed, but Cheshire were not to be driven back, and constantly forcing the play had hard lines in not adding to their score. A long dribble by the visiting forwards, in which Simpson was prominent, was dangerous but nothing resulted, scrimmages in the Cheshire half proving favourable to the cheese county, Ashcroft putting in a good kick which eventually put a stop to the visitors' chance of scoring. Half-time arrived shortly afterwards, the score reading—Cheshire, 8 points. Northumberland 3 points. After the change of ends Cheshire asserted their superiority, and from a forward rush Edgar registered a try, Nickels failing at goal. After a momentary visita- tion to the Cheshire end, mainly through the fine dashing play of Simpson, the home county attacked again, and the result of a splendid dribble by Anderson was a try, which Nickels converted. Bird had to retire at this stage owing to his nose being broken. The game was fairly even after this, and from a scrimmage in the Northumberland half Blackcock scored a try. Potts failed at goal. Result—Cheshire 16 points, Northumberland 6 points. LANCASHIRE v. CHESHIRE. I At a meeting of the Cheshire County Rug-by Union at Birkenhead on Saturday night, the follow- ing were selected to oppose Lancashire at Aigburth, Liverpool, on Saturday next :—W. R. Brooke (Sale), back; P. Hutchinson, J. C. Marquis, P. D. Kendall, and E. S. Ashcroft (Birkenhead Park), thieequarter backs; F. C. Hulme and A. Taylor (Birkenhead Park), half-backs E. Herscliell, C. S. Edgar, W. L. Bird, 0. Taylor, G. C. Nickels. L. B Buckler, A. N. Jeans (Birkenhead Park), and J. S. Francomb (Sale), forwards.

HOCKEY. l SALE v. CHESTER. This match was played at Sale on Saturday, the ground being fast and dry. In the first half Colm, Barnes and Thomber scored for Sale, the teams crossing over with the score 3-0 in favour of the home team. On resuming, Chester p!ayed up, but were beaten back. Ewen clearing well on several occasions. L. Robson scored for Sale, and Battersby and Barnes also added goals. Chester pressed, and Brook scored and Barnes got another for Sale, who won by seven goals to one. Chester had a weak team, their centre-haif and right wing being best. Teams-Salo: H. H. Brown. W. Thornber, G. T. Ewen, L. Robson, A. J. Thornton. P. Robson, C. Plant. B. Thornber, H. Barnes, P. H. Colm and T. S. Battersby. Chester: J. Grimes, J. H. W. Day, J. Thorncly, J. Honshall. F. Billington. J. Biayney-Jones, G. W. A. Wil- liams. P. S. Brook, T. Day, E. G. Poggi, G. T. Dickson.

I GOLF. CHESHIRE CORONATION MEDAL. The third competition for the Cheshire Corona- tion Medal has taken place 011 the VVirral .Ladies' Uoii Course. While the weather was ifne, with a rather strong wind, the course was in some places very wet, and hence good scoring became dnhcuit. 11,.1.1:8 Dod (Moreton) tied for the medal with Miss iiiackie (VVirral), and on piaying oil Miss Dod I won by one point, the sweepstakes being divided. Returns MISS Dod (Moreton) 83 sc.—83 Mias 151ackie (Wtrral). 1U6 Z3 Miss Jeans (Wirral) 97 12-95 Miss Mackie (Wirral) 92 ii—bo Miss A. Jevons (Wirral) 192 14-btl Mrs. H. Smith (Wirral) 104 16-88 Miss E. Gavin (Wirral) 97 7-80 Mrs. H. Wright (Wirral) 96 4-82 Miss H. Herron (Formby) 106 14—92 Mrs. Langlarids (Wirral) 104 12-92 Miss Stevenson (Wirral) 112 19-93 Miss CogsweW (Moreton) 101 7-94 Miss A. P. Spence (Moreton) 105 9—-96 The Wirral Ladies Club had presented a silver muffin dish as a prize for a second round played under Ladies' Golf Union handicap match play against "bogey." Miss Dod was again successful in securing a tie, this time with Mrs. II. Smith, and they remain to play off for possession. The chief scores were—Miss Dod (scratch), one down; Mrs. H. Smith (receives 12), one down; Miss Blackio (receives 17), two down. The other cards returned were all six and eight down

CHESTER WHIST LEAGUE. ST. JOHN'S v. HANDBRIDGE.-Tbii match was played at St. John's ou Monday evening. Score:— 1-' ST. JOHN'S. HANDBUIDGE. W. E. Hig-uett.111 S. Harrison .1.211 V. Clubbe J J. Broadhurst. J E. Bass I Q1 S. Blake 11(, J.T.Riley I H. Hand J10 W. Delany 11(, A. Millington .) ? T. Dempsey J. Bo!wdl. J  J. R. Hignett \91 S. Gerrard I lr J. Lewis J. Pritchard Ij E. Tkvlor ?? J. CrossJey ) /■201 1 H. Lloyd f F. Povey .? F. Weston I 01 R G. Gerrard ) „n F. Argyle G. Gerrard .? 109 114 Majority for Handbridge, 5. ST. BARNABAS' v. CHESHIRE BEARER CO. Played at St. Barnabas'. Score :— ST BARNABAS. BEARER CO. Rev. G. C. Briggs ? Rev. F. E. Hicks 1 W. Barton .? ? E. Hughes J T. H. Jenkins |01 P. Wansell \in J. Savage .J? A. Heath j"10 J. E. Barton W. Walker E.F.Howell .f F. Dutton J R. Mason 1 91 H. White. | 1 P. Lythgoe J A. Dobson J S. G. Mason | r01 1 T. Large )  W. Tullock I F. W. WanseJI j"? W. H. Whetnall 1.91 E. Roscoe J1"1104. W. Wrhetnall j H. Dymond .J 112 73 Majority for St. Barnabas', 39. CHESHIRE BEARER CO. v. OLD ST. MARY'S CHURCH CLUB. Played at St. Michael's Hall. Score :— "BEAKER Co. CHURCH CLUB. W.Walker I A. Skinner ;") 13 F. DLtton j W. Youde ) F. Wansell 1 „ J. McCar?ney. Ii T. Large .J F. Ranson. J  G. E. Jones. 11>1 M. Mead 1."0 E.Hughes .J- S. Webster S. M. Chase | 91 T. Webster 116 T. Lockett J T. J ones J F. Jackson R. Holland t12 A.Jones .J H. ,Jacksou .f P. Wansell l91 M. Williams. ) 9 A. Heath J. Allshaw .f 112 1)1 Majority for Bearer Co 21.

CHESTER DAIRY SHOW.—The first, second and third prize cheese from the above show are now on sale at lowest prices at A. Stonely's, 94, N orthgate-street. On Friday night a coroner's jury returned a verdict of wilful murder against Elizabeth Davies, whose child was found lloating in a quarry pit at Hyde. Davies gave birth to the child at Stockport Female Hospital in September, and on October 9 was seen near the quarry, first with the babv and subsequently without it. On being arrested she admitted having put the baby into the quarrv pit. "THE ROGUE'S SYNDICATE. "-This is the title of our new serial story, the open- ing chapters of which appear in the Cheshire Observer to-day. The story contains a vivid portrayal of character, and also many dramatic situations; and in unravelling the mv- stery which surrounds the hero the talented author, Mr. Tom Gall-cn, fully holds the interest and attention of his readers from the opening to the dosing' chapters. We can heartily recommend to readers of fiction "The Rogue's Syndicate."

E PPS'S COCOA, E PPS'S COCOA. JjlPPS'S COCOA. E PPS'S COCOA. E PPSIS COCOA. E PPSS COCOA. The Original Cocoa, and a Speciality, being distinguished from all others by its invigorating nutritious Qualities and its delicious flavour. This Cocoa, containing as it does all the substance of the Cocoa Nib, main- tains its leading position after three-quarters of a Century as the best form of Cocoa for every-day use. A Soluble Soap Powder j with which a powerful disinfectant1 and deodoriser has been incorporated. OS may be used in powder or solution. Sprinkle if about where a suspicious smell is detected- in lavatories. sicKrooms. cesspools, sewers, &c. J œ for disinfecting & washing bedclothes. bod/Hnen.banda?es?????Y &c. ?o guard against contagion.g Where GO is used microbes ,Î') die.and?hereis!itne r\ Wl chance of infection.  ? /I A? f? \?t)L 7 j?    t  f combines a soap w] & germicide; it is no dearer than soap. œ to scrub floors, paintwork, linoleum, ?crdestroys vermin.  in hospitals & public institutions: for disinfection. I I' O a soap,deodoriser.  1 r. & r¡.- to ? 3 ? d")infectant. | ?H?y?Ma??Max?My??MNK??Hmm' <L???V??????

AGRICULTURE. A GLOOMY PROSPECT. I A gleam of sunshine and a bright day or two sandwiched between the excessive downpours sends a thrill of hope, be it over so slight, through the farming fraternity; and we have been favoured with two or three such periods recently. But the storm of the 27th ult. was of such extreme violence as to paralyse almost everybody, and the after effects will need a lot of patience and perseverance to counter- act their devastating work. The floods have greatly subsided, it is true, and the country roads have nearly resumed their normal condition but there is still much more water on the surface than appears to the casual observer. Arable fields for the most part are still merely so many morasses, even in high and favourable situations, the subsoils being so over- charged that there is little chance of the surfaces being dry enough to work, at least for the present. It would, perhaps, be almost hopeless to indulge in sanguine expectations, seeing that the year has so far ad vanced but given a period of dry weather much improvement might be effected in the way of recovery by a loner and strong pull to bring up arrears of work and we have had even tine Novembers. Indeed, we have heard of ploughs being in strong evidence on some of the lighter soils during the latter end of last week but there must be considerably mere draining and drying of the soil before this becomes general. People of light and elastic temperament profess to entertaining satisfaction with the late and existing state of affairs because of an increased water-supply, which was much needed, of a washing out and clearing of drains and ditches conducing to better health, of an abundant pasturage, and consequent increase in the flow of milk. But while such persons are easily pleased, there must be many farmers all over the kingdom whom the ill-conditioned season has brought to the verge of, if not to actual, bankruptcy. And as to the flow of milk "such people are mistaken, the contrary being in fact the case. A cessation of the rain even for three days, as actually occurred directly following the heavy downpour, seemed to hold out a promise of better times, and farmers began to look wistfully at ploughs and roots, but the con- dition of the land where roots were actually standing in water prevented anything but a faint hope for immediate relief, especially when on the last day the wet weather was renewed. Thresh- ing has been entirely out of the question. The effect of the abnormally wet weather, it is to be feared, will be greatly prejudicial to the live stock, both cattle and sheep—breeding ewes es- pecially-havincr been so constantly exposed to the heavy rains. The potato crop will be one of the worst on record during the last forty-five years. Many acres are or have been for days, and almost weeks, under water, or so saturated as to become rotten and worthless. It is gratifying to know that some countries at least have not been so badly hit as this country. France, for example, it is stated has ti,0U0,000qrs. more grain than was estimated in July last, and will be independent of imports. Argentina has about eight million quarters to spare. Australia, in like manner, has a surplus of liaif a rr, Illion quarters, and from India the news as to the sowing season is satisfactory, which means a great deal. The fifty-fifth annual exhibition of fat stock. poultry, roots, &c., will take place at Bingley Hall, Birmingham, on November 28th and 30th, and December 1st, 2nd and 3rd. A sum of £ 3,000 is offered in prizes, in addition to the usual large number of challenge cups and extra special awards. ) There are no fewer than 370 classses in the poultry and pigeon department, in which, in addition to the ordinary prizes, there are ninety specials and cups. I COLD CURING OF CHEESE: A HINT FOR DAIRYMEN. I The University of Wisconsin for a considerable I period has been engaged in experimenting on the j cold-curing and keeping of oheese, with a view ) to ascertain the relative amount- of shrinkage of the article S8 treated compared wicli ocher j methcds. The. purport of the lessons has been to shew that curing in a low temperature, a.nd with less consequent evaporation, effects a very material saving in the weight produced; and it is asserted that shrinkage in a temperature of 4CoP. is only about a f-curth of what ordinarily occurs in ordinary factory practice. If this be correct— and the result is no doubt the product of carefully asoartaned facts—there is scarcely any need, to emphasise the superiority of such treatment; as it goes without saying that in a daily make of 5001b. there would be a nett saving of 151b. per day, and this spread over the entire season would mean something considerable. As regards the most favourable type and size of cheeso, it was found—as indeed would naturally be tli,- case— t.hat the closer texture, such as Cheddar, lost less than the softer kinds, also—and what was some- what remarkable;—-that small cheese lost no more in weight than the larger ones. CROP AND STOCK RETURNS. I Returns recently issued by tho looard cf Agri- culture and Fisheries state that the reduction, in I the area of land under the plough in. Great Britain which has continued annually since 1875, with only three slight checks, in 1885, 1894, and 1897, still continues. In the present year a further withdrawal of 172,000 acres from arable cultivation ia recorded, thus bringing the total below 1521 million acres, or three million acres less than it was thirty years ago. The loss in, 1903 occurred almost entirely in England and Wales, the posi- tion in Scotland, in spite of some local changes in the different counties, being practically main- tained. The decrease by 145,000 acres, or per cent., in the acreage returned as under wheat in 1903 ft" duced the area under that crop in Great Britain to 1,582,000 acres, a smaller surface than in any year except 1895. The chief cause of this some- what marked decline appears to have been thei un- favourable sowing time, while the fact that oais are considered to be generally a more remunera- tive crop had some influence in the same direction:. The acreage of barley fell by 51,000 acres—2.7 per cent.—to 1,858,000 acres, this area being the lowest on record, Oats are reported from many districts to have, been substituted for wheat, and the in- crease by 83,000 acres, or 2.7 per cent., iln, the acreage under this crop places it at a higher level than in any previous year except 1893, 1894, and 1895. Oats now cover rather more than one-fifth of the total arable area of Great Britain, and only ) 300,000 acres less than the acreage under wheat and barley combined. The decrease by nearly 10,000 acres of the acre- age under potawes is of greater significanœ, re- ducing that crop, as it practically does, to the po- 4 tion which it occupied-in 1900. b, Scotland and the Northern division of England there was an in- crease in the potato acreage, and in the important county of Lincoln also there was a. slight gain. But over the rest of England the reduction was considerable. The area, under turnips and swedes has year by year declined during- the past decade. Turnips and swe-des have been to some extent replaced by niangoid-, during late years. During the present. year, however, the acreage under mangolds was reduced by 40,600 acre?, or nine per cent., the un- favourable sea-son for sowing and the heavy rcot crop of the previous year being probable causes, An increase by 48,000 acres in that- portion of the area under clovers and rotation grasses which was cut for hay was more than set of by a decrease of 72,000 acres in the area from which no crop cf hay was taken. The nett decrease of 24.000 acres was mainly aftributablc to the lo-ss of nearly 20,000 acres which was recorded in Wales alone. By an increase of 120,000 acres, the art-a returned as permanent grass now reaches 16.934,000 acres h!/ Great Britain. Instead of the considerable r-educ- tion in bare fallow, which was commented upor; in 1902, the area so returned in 1903 shews an addi- tion of 20 per cent., or 58.000 acres. Turning- to live stock the returns of 1903 were more satisfactory than those of 1902, an increase being shown among horses, cattle, and pigs. A larger number of horses was returned im every county, with only four exceptions, in Great j Britain, and the increase by nearly three per cent. in those under one year probably indicates fome extension of breeding. The increase by 149.000 in the number of cattle, repairs to a considerable extent the loss sustained la.st year, though the total is still smaller than in the three years prior to 1902. In every county in England, except Derby, an increase was this year recorded, and in Scotland, although there was more d;ver-ity, there was on balance a g-ain of 25,000 head. In W ales, on the other hand, there was a decline. The greatest inereao.occurrro among the cattle of two years old and upwards. An increase by 32,000, or 1.3 per cent., in oows and heifers, although not considerable, is to bo welcomed as reversing- the tendency to decline which has been, apparent each j year since 1899. The number of pheoo atrain dc- clined, and the loss of 120,000 ewes and 64.000 cther sheep over one year was very inadequately set off by an increase of 58.000 in the number of sheep under one year. In this case Wales was more for- tunate than England or Scotland. The flocks cf the Principality aga:ii increased by 49.000, of which more than half were breeding ewes, while in Eng- land the total loss was 133,000. and the los- of ewf" still greater. The Scottish flocks were depleted by 41,000, one-fourth of which were ewes. shewed an increase of nearly 17 per cent.. or 387,000, and the tendency appears to have been practically universal except in a few Scottish counties. "MILLIPEDES AND CENTIPEDES." The- latest le-allet of the Board of Agriculture aud Fisheries is one relating to these pests, which are responsible for a great deal more harmi to vegetation than they are generally credited with. Some of the species it is stated, are beneficial in the destruction of snails and slugs, but others eat into potatoes and roots, often hollowing them out entirely. They abound much in leaf mould, wh ch is the medium of their large distribution. Appli- cations of lime or soot are recommended as re- medies; otr they may be trapped with decaying cabbage leave. or pieces of sliced ma.ngold scooped out ard placed just benea.th the surface of tha soil in proximity to places or plants infected. OUR WHEAT CROPS. The Mark Lane Express," referring to the abnormal rainfall, says The effect on the wheat yield has not been so serious in respect to quantity as might have been anticipated, and the fact that the only fine three weeks of a wretched summer coincided with the blooming and kerning period of the wheat tends to emphasise the immense importance of that period. The wheat crop before that epoch of its existence is a grass three critical weeks pass and leave us withl ajcereal. The Ibad weather for harvesting and threshing has been a separate story from that of the harvest yield, and in the unfit state of market deli veries we have the due to the miserable averages, which for the 23rd ult. in London were 27s. per qr. for wheat. 22a. £ 'Jd. per qr. for barley, and per qr. for oats. None of these crops can be" grown at a profit on these terms. How such quotations "enable the farmer to hold uphi8 head," asjMr. Morloy declares it, passes our comprehension tosay. The point which, quite apart from fair or free trade, is radically wrong with our national finance is that the nation at large is divorced from its agriculture, neither smiling with abundant harvests nor weeping with agricultural disaster. At the very moment when we are boasting of unity we are ceasing to be one nation, and the townsman is utterly uncon- cerned over the tips and downs of agriculture in the counties. The London wheat average above given is actually Is. lid per qr. lower than that for the 24th at New York, and is Is. Ud. below the mean of value at the great Continental free trade port of Antwerp. « POULTRY AND EGG RAISING. In the course of an address, in Devonshire, to the National Poultry Organisation Society, Lord Onslow remarked In these days of depression it was in- cumbent upon farmers to look among even the smallest things. It was for that reason that the Board of Agriculture recommended the work of the society to the notice of all in England. It had been suggested that the development of a certain policy which was now before the country might be awaited before they encouraged the smaller branches :0£ agriculture. He was opposed to waiting for any- thing. It might be that when there was heavy-duty on from Argentina, and when eggs were sent in duty free from Gibraltar, there would be a more prosperous time for British egg producers. But they should not wait for that.—Mr. E. Brown, secretary of the society, said the present value: of poultry produce to Devon farmers was) about £ 100,000 per annum, yet that was only about one- third of what the county was capable of producing. The sum of £ 200,000 could be added to farm earnings in Devon without the displacement of any other branch of stock or crops.

FARMERS AND A.NTHRAX.-Outi)reaks of anthrax continue to occur in Cheshire. The latest case is reported from the farm of Mr. Bourne, farmer. The affected animal has been cremated. The conditions just now are, according to veterinary surgeons, favourable to tbe spread of the disease. Farmers are co-operating with the local authorities to prevent a calamity. AGRICULTURAL DEPRESSION.—Mr. S. B. L. Druco, Secretary of the Farmers' Club, on Monday, at a meeting of that body in London, read a paper on "The 1901 Census of England and Wales from the Agricultural Point of View." In fifty years the agricultural class had, he said, diminished by rather more than eight hundred thousand persons. Tho diminution of farm labourers during the same period had been very remarkable. In 1851 the figure stood at a million and a quarter: now it was less than half that total. Compulsory education had been a most material cause of this diminuriclI.

LIFE INSURANCE CONCESSIONS.—It has hitherto been the practice of the Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York to obtain from all applicants for insurance an undertaking not to reside iu the Toirid Zone within two years- of the date of the policy. without. first obtaining the per- miss;on of the company. Wo learn, however, that the general manager for the United Kingdom has just received a cable from the home office stating that on and after November 1st. 1903, the policies of the company will be without restriction as to residence or travel. They will also b9 without restrict'ons as to military or naval seivice in time of war for civilians. These important concessions will, we have no doubt, lead to a still further ex- t^nfion of the company's business in the United Kingdom.

| §0, I g itote » j «a V Q.œe.tWtÐ23Q2smæec)Q_CD 1 ;Y"" 9 'I    <?????S'??,???r%?<?? I -A-i!:Œ1i,¡¡m,! EHiring the year 1902 I had accounts with five hundred I and eighty-five thousand, two hundred and nine 2 customers. I (.!o not suppose that a single one of this g enormous number did business merely to oblige me, they sent their orders in full confidence that they would 8 be well served and on the understanding that unless 2 thoroughly pleased with the goods there would be no 9 obligation whatever to purchase. Seven days is always 1 allowed for approval, and if you are not entirely 9S satisfied send the package back. "I PRBVmE EVERYTHING." If the goods arc perfectly satisfactory you can pay for S them as you prefer: Cash or Easy Monthly Instalments. ft IJO particu.ars ot wnicn arc enclosed with each Catalogue, together with OrJer Forms |£ > I j§ and dcta¡;; of Im;}Orani Advantages o?;t'cd to Casli Purchasers.  lt1 EACH _pmPiTKEr»TAL CATALOGUE SE?«T POST FRIE ON APPLICATION. X"o! i II Iî -_t__J-L Xt.. ;JU. t. [". \.J I I J1. 1 Uu t1. (allr!n:tr "e"¡;l'd. ? 1. Watches. I i 1. ;OWIl "'nlch -'C'I:e:- n i'¡'H,ll:d f\lH chse, theil. v U :i t ."ii OrpaHmout is tho ¡çJ Ln,qes: at-cll Stvii-s Coa('crn a Ue World. I"! T.2.!I.:i. 1 Thousands ai illustrations. F.v-f.ry 1no'tl Tool 11(1 \I.l'i\ilw IssiipinicUon EIsy Terms or Paj'meUL ? 3 .??nr' n i i! t ?f}. .<.rn,i, t?meu. ii l-lvory rerinircn-.ont Si. Ul-.iBl,ruled. Mr g Sjs.on. iB n.lly 2 \i': ¡(:: ('¿.:H''Z::{, /J'i R g 4. Siianties end Cooturncs. .J ii til A iii'r.u o. ih-i 1":4shiOH of he Season, S 5. Gcr'Jt's Tilt)!'in. n. .1, i« sr'»-vrrily cnuinped r < V 'U > Dlibim-ys i.i (* i; a i. G. and Shoes. & ]?e«U!.im!!y HIUH:pau.-iIT*A Splendid Choice of the J NGWPRC lrlpjis hI boot Wesir. fjj (Cou,tr Hi* ?/,?,'?<(-)t?,j-cM(Jt ? 7. B e?partmont. a Cu fI a vjusc a8orUJ1L;lltJ or Standard gand Cu» renf, f.itero.tnre. S G. -fehorffCutlery and Plate» a H'icp?hie..u: n?-? Faeloie'S lh.u"TH.tp nnd fully de'I' i hf.L /j1:d r Sh i^'irnr (J"(¡r 0 Speciality. S3 9. CIass, Ghlna, Lamps & Stoves. fQ IHnuer and Tea Services, 'Soilel and Bedroom | gj H re Lamps, tO\'e, eU;. ? 10. Ci DCI(3. 0 Kvety kVio A-TI lyi. a??d supplied on ?-?y Terms of Payment. J j | 2JL' Co-»eraj Drapcrie3, J J''?s T.?<).<a.?i?ff,?.)?.;s.?).Ladies'Out- S 'i??.?.u??su:hi''hi)()r.<i,s.C!othi))H.[:tc. H ] ??A??'????'??y '? Diamonds. 5 Tii. ar.u Uraeelots, A j 3 J!roo"hes.!iLnda.nhi!?ttiot Gold Ornament. fully I a mu?.-ntf-.) -?,) des'jriw»d. w -LS-JEmiS??' F'?noy Goods. | i in]), e.'iiiri..vlni.us, t.i* y kird of Leather • i Home 1' w. 1?.'??:??? '-? 'Ott'c? Gr.??)?' Jiul'.l. 01 's of l)\t)ig¡l ¡' lhl mosi. roli<j.bie makers. 9 3 ar.ci Domestic 5 i 1Ei:s¥1:i::¡;i; j S | ■' •' io s, ashiMI; and .MiU.unos. Nnwni, Atid Knittiufc' ?chiues.?nife § | 3 Cl'^inin;; .{aehineH. etc. 16. M?t.?c:? Ocpai'tment. B f _v¡:t)7;-k;Ju8ial Instru- A iIlCH" sunpJle:1 on L.iny L'aymont Terms. I? j "17. flrrny acid Navy. t i r i\'); ë It \;It;. ^atchos. Jewellery,-Cut- a )ery, Plate. Clothing, i» t c., etc.. sp^ciaUy compiled J to nv-ot tho requirements of ail grades of the I services. 10.. Colonial Department* 0 A ;71p¡,(.'lHn;¡ulJ:.e 'S?44 pages). Thousands I of illustrations and prices of tfoods in every B The finest work of rpference pub* lib'i'Vt fo: J'oroitfn and Colonial Trade. Special A Cash •rsr'ount for Shipping Or(' e rs, )S?J-!arioss a??d Veh!cle$ S I ot avicy d,?sjri^tio:i. £ I Agents Wanted in spare time. Li bcr; Commission. Persons in regular employment should write for Terms. ????  ,r" ? ?? division street, j jt d.Å" t? J' (/f;- SHEFFIELD. j "-O.CCI8.GœIHllDG.