The Elk County advocate. (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, June 20, 1878, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    L
i i i
-- ' .V,. -
:l-. i
ftilili
. - i
i ' t u'.iv; v ; ' " . - . , - , i -
, - , . ' 'iii. ' - . :
HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher. ! NIL DESPERANDUM Two Dollars per Annum.
VOL. VIII. RIDGrWAY, ELK COUNTYy PA. THUESDAY, JUNE 20, 1878. NO. 18.
i
Deacon Babbitt's rhonograph.
Deacon Babbttt wii progressiva and enlightened In
his ways ;
Be perused the Seieru Monthly and the Review, on
rainy days;
Bad a cabinet of I (Wills, and tome bird securely
stuffed,
la hie wood-house chamber study, where hi pipe
was dally puffed,
ft would make an old-time farmer stare around as
in a dream
To see the deacon churn and plow, and cot his hay
by eteam ;
"Pitdh his hay and thresh hie barley with "machinery
alone,
And call his help to dinner with a patent tele
phone. Thns the deacon bought each patent that could
work or walk or sing,
Till he heard the papera raving of the very latest
thing:
A machine to bottle language, or a song, a sigh, or
laugh ;
Then the deacon he got craty to possess a phono
graph. "Why," nold he, " Jest think of storin' np for a fu
ture generation
A prayer-rueetin' or conference, twould be their
sure .alvatlon ;
Or good old hymns ; these modern ones are joet as
I ght aa chaff.
Thur's no usetalkiu', I must have a patent phono
graph." And no one knows how much it cost the deacon
had bis way
And on bis study table stood the phonograph one
day.
The deacon loaded it with hymns and pious odds
and end,
Then d inned Ms lint mid sought the street to call
lu sundry liH-uds.
THE EOTS IKTFJIVIEW IT.
Jehonldttb, the oldest sou, had toitght his brother
Green,
And thry culled in the hired man to view the new
machine ;
They danced and snng and turned the crank with
uncouth sour and laugh,
Not knowing of the mystic powers of that same
phonograph.
They could not tell the purpose of the tinfoil on
the drum ;
They threatened angrily to kick the thing to king
dom come.
"It canuot dig, or plant, or sew, or do a single
thing"
Then they had a war-dance round the room that
made the study ring.
THE DSACOIT BETOBHETH.
The dencon found the elder with the work before
him ),ftad,
But he made him leave his sermon at the forty
Second head,
r And down the street, his smoking-cap disported In
the wind,
His funnv-tlHured morning gown spread gaily out
behind
Together they sought Deacon Smooth, a man of
solid sense.
Conservative in politics, religion and expense ;
Just the opposite to Babbitt be stuck to good old
ways,
And he laughed at all inventions of these evil mod
ern days.
But Deacon Babbitt walked erect with triumph In
his eye,
" Be would show 'em an Invention that would make
all skeptics fl ;"
And he told thrm he bad bottled good old " China "
and " Mllbauk,"
And hegueeied they'd stop their laugbln' when they
berd him turn the orank.
On tbe table In the study all so simple and se
rene, Stood the very unpretentious, but remarkable,
machine.
Then the deacon he explained to them the dia
phragm and drum ;
Grasped the handle, saying promptly, "Just yon
bark to what'a to come "
" I wouder what the derned old hog baa been a-
buyln' now?"
The deacon dropped the handle, while the sweat
stood on his brow.
" The thing is out of kilter, but I guess I'll try
agin."
" O, Kelser, don't you want a dog ?" and "Betsy
likes her gin."
The elder donned his smoking-cap and at ted for
the door,
But Deacon Hmooth winked slyly, saying would
like soti'e more ;
Bnt Babbitt gazed on the machine with looks of
dark despair,
' Then said he guessed he'd try again ; he knew hie
hymns were there
He grasped the handle firmly, caring nothing for
the noise
Of half a dozen dancing fiends with voices like his
boj-B ;
Or shouted songs in melting tones of 11 I'm your
(i:iruug aatie,"
And " Whoop it up, my hearty boys," " Farewell to
Mary Blaine."
But Deacon Smooth bad stood all conservative and
grand,
Until the w tr-dance came along, and then he raised
his hand
And smote the phonograph a blow that laid it on
the fljor,
A niasB of wheels and broken springe, a thing oi
lilo no more,
Tho elder ran "down tho stairs, bis fingers In his
eats,
Repeating Scripture to himself to quell his rising
fears,
And sayiug mildly to himself, " When a man de
serts bis sphere
And penetrates to hidden things, he'd better stand
in fear."
But Decon Babbitt, good old man, will raise hta
head no more,
lie sits and gazea sadly at the wreck upon the
floor,
And tries to understand in vain (without an ezplan
atlbn) How some way in the management he lost the com
bination. The boys at noon were curious about the new ma
chine. But the deacon told them to " Shut np " with such
a wrathful mien,
That not a word leaked ont about the fatal morn
ing's spree,
And Deacon Smooth, conservative, has scored a
victory.
Uiica (. Y.) Republican.
WILD STKAWBERRIES.
a" ''More strawberries ?" said Mrs.
Wylde, with a perplexed contraction of
her brows.
"Yes," said old Fhillis, the cook.
"I've made two short-cakes an' a pie,
an' dar ain't nigh enough left to fill de
big glass dish for tea."
'Dear me I" said Mrs. Wylde, "what
shall we do ? Lisette is dressing, and
Maude never could endure the sun.
Barbara" to a slender young girl who
was eurled up in one of the deep window-seats,
reading "you'll have to go."
Barters Wylde roused herself out of an
Arcadian dream of Dickens' Little Nell,
and fixed a pair of big blue eyes on her
mother's troub'ed face.
"Go where, mamma ?"
"Down to the south pasture lot for
wild strawberries. The ground is crim
son with them there, and "
Barbara Wylde scrambled down ont
of her high perch.
"Mamma," said she, "what a nuisance
all this is I I don't believe Captain Ell
wood Severn is worth all this trouble.
I don't believe he'll fall in love with
either Maude or Lisette. And I think
preserved gooseberries are quite good
enough for him."
"Hold your tongue, child I" said Mrs.
Wylde, sharply. "Take the basket and
go for tha strawberries at onoe."
"But it's so hot, mamma I".
"Put on your broad-brimmed straw
flat."
"And I haven't finished my novel,"
pleaded Barbara, with her mind revert
ing longingly to Little Nell.
"Nonsense," said Mrs. Wylde. "You !
read too many novels, a deal, for a
child of your age."
And Barbara disappeared, Unwillingly
enough, into the apple orchard, across
which a sinuons path, bordered with
buttercups and red clover, led direct to
the velvet slopes of the "south pasture,"
where the ripening fruit of . the wild
strawberries shone like tiny rubies along
the course of a little musical brook, aU
fringed with reeds and alders and tall
growing ferns. i
"Strawberries, indeed I" said Barbara
to herself. " It's dreadful to , be the
youngest of a family of girls, and have
to pick strawberries for one's elder sis
ters beaux."
And she pushed the vellow curia ont nf
her eyes, and went to work in lugubrious
earnest, popping we largest and sweet
est of the berries into her little round
rose-bud of a month, staining her dress
as she knelt down to seek the shy trea
sures nnder the clustering green leaves,
and crimsoning her hands with the
haste she made.
" I wonder which of 'em hell marry?"
said Barbara to herself, as she paused
a minute to listen to a robin which,
Cerchedon (he boughs of a feathery elm
eyond the brook, trilled out his bar
carolle of glad music "Lisette is the
prettiest, of course, and he can't know
what a dreadful temper she's got. Bnt
Maude is literary, and has read all the
new books, and can talk so well. Gentle
men like intellectual ladies. I wish"
with a sigh "that I was intellectual."
And our little maid fell to work at the
strawberries again for full five minutes.
And then she shook her basket, and
peeped into its depths with eyes of
azure despair.
"Not half full," said she to herself;
"not a quarter full. Oh, aear me I how
I wish some one would come to help met
And there is some one stretched provok
ingly in the shade under Squire Dallas 'b
big oak by the stone wall where the
sweet briers grow. People have no
business to lie in the shade when other
people have to be working hard in the
sun I And I do believe it's Squire Dal
las's new hired man, and he ought to be
at work in the hay-field instead of lying
there under the trees with a book. And, "
Barbara added, surveying the distant
faineant with rebolute blue eyes from
beneath her upli ted hand, "he shall
work ; he shall help me 1"
"Young man I" she called out. The
robin trilled, the brook made a cool,
tumultuous splashing over the mossy
stones that formed its bed, and no an
swer came back to Barbara save the
flutter of the leaves in the hazel copse
under the hill.
"Young man, I say 1" she called out
again, this time with a certain accent of
the imperious in her voice. The recum
bent figure under the oak tree straight
ened itself np at once, and made has.e
toward the stone wall that separated
Squire Dallas's domains from Deacon
Wyl tie's south pasture lot.
"I beg your pardon," said he; "bnt
did you call V .
"Of oourse I called," said Barbara,
thinking within herself how tall and
straight and darkly handsome Squire
Dallas's new hired man was. "Don't
you think, young man, you ought to be
at work ?"
"At work ?" repeated the Spanish
browed stranger. "Well, perhaps I
ought,"
"There's no 'perhaps' about it,"
said Barbara, brusquely. "Of course
you ought. And since you don't choose
to work for your master, you may as
well be working for me."
"My master?"
"Squire Dallas, of course," said Bar
bara. "Dear me, how stupid you are."
"And how, may I venture to ask, did
you know who I was?" he questioned,
in an amused sort of way.
"Ob, it didn't require any great ex
ercise of brilliance tor that," responded
Barbara, -with a little nod of the head.
"I know Squire Dallas has got a new
hired man ; and if you're not he, who
are you ?"
"That is the question," said the
stranger gravely.
" But we mustn't stand talking here,"
went on Barbara, in a business-like sort
of way. "Take the basket and go to
picking strawberries just as fast as ever
you can, because we're to have com
pany at our house I'm Barbara Wylde,
you know, young man and I must get
back with the berries for desert as quick
ly as possible."
"All right," said the stranger; "I'm
tolerably quick at this sort of thing, I
believe."
"I hope you are," said Barbara in
tent on extricating a tiny rose-pricker
from the point of ber stained forefinger
"and at other things too. Because, if
you're not, Squire Dallas won't keep
you."
"He won't eh?"
Barbara shook her head. "The last
man went away because he couldn't en
dure the squire's driving ways," said
she. "Oh, I was to sorry I He was
nice. He used to lend me books and
things over the fence, and he taught
district sohool in the winters. I used
often to come here and talk with him
over the stone wall, because, you see,
it's lonesome up at the house if I do
have two grown sisters. Lisette is cross
with me if I ask to borrow any of her
books she has a dreadful temper, has
our Lisette and Maude is too intel
lectual to trouble herself about a slip of
a girl like me. Grown sisters are dread
ful," with a solemn shake of the head.
" And I suppose you are not grown,"
said Squire Dallas hired man, with a
curious gleam of amusement around the
corners of his mouth.
"No," said Barbara, "I am only
sixteen, and I haven't got trains to my
dresses yet. Bnt perhaps when the
girls get married, and one of them is
sure to marry this Captain Severn Oh,
take care, you're tipping all the berries
out upon the grass! Squire Dallas
won't keep you a week if you're aa
clumsy aa that"
But tbe hired man luckily succeeded
in righting the basket before its crim
son contents were irretrievably lost.
"It's all right," said he. "see bow
rapidly it is filling up. But suppose
this Captain I forget that you said his
name wast''-
" You mustn't forget things," said
Barbara. " Squire Dallas never will be
suited with that. He's a very particu
lar old gentleman. - I mention these
things, you know" with an air of mild
patronage" because yon seem like a
nice, respectable young man, and I
should like you to keep th$ plaoe, "
"I am much-obliged to you," said
the stranger, hurriedly putting a straw
berry into his mouth.
" Now you are eating the strawber
ries," gid Barbara, severely. "You
shouldn't do that"
" One or two is of no oonsequenoe,"
apologized Squire Dallas's hired man.
" But I was going to say, suppose this
company gentleman--?'
" Cap twin Severn, his name is," in
terposed Barbara.
" Yes suppose that Captain Severn
shouldn't fall in love with either of your
grown sisters?"
"Then he'd be a very great disap
pointment," cried out Barbara, "be
cause Lisette is six-and-twenty, and
Maude says shell out her throat sooner
than be aa old maid." ', '
" Ho might fall in love with you," sug
gested the young man, regarding his
pretty companion with a sidelong glance
from beneath his long lashes.
" With me I" repeated Barbara. Me I
a little girl that wears dresses without
trains, and isn't out of her scales yet I
Now, I tell you what, young man, you
are talking a great deal too much and
working a great deal too little. Per
haps, if you're very smart with the ber
ries, I'll bring you one of Phillis's tarts,
and put it on the stone fence to-night.
Phillis does make the deliciousest straw
berry tarts I"
" That would be delightful," said the
stranger, promptly.
Barbara gave a scrutinizing glance into
the berry basket.
"I begin to think we've got almost
enough," said she. ,
"Not yet," pleaded her companion.
"Yes," nodded Barbara. "And
mamma will be in a hurry, and Maude
will scold dreadfully if I'm not there in
time to do her back hair."
" It strikes me," said the stranger,
with a half smile, " that you're a good
deal like Cinderella in the story books."
Barbara considered the matter for a
second or two.
"So I am," said she.' "I never
thought about it before 'f but I do be
lieve I am a little like Cinderella. But,
dear me I there's no glass slipper for
me. And as for you, young man," re
lapsing all at once" into the Bevere Men
tor again, " you had better get back as
fast as possible to your work ; and don't
let Squire Dallas catch you loitering
again, if you've any regard for your
place." .
The stranger stood with doffed cap
and attitude of chivalrons attention.
"But you'll not forget the strawberry
tort?" said he.
" Certainly not; if once I can get old
Phillis's back turned long enough to
steal it out of the milk-room," said
Barbara.
"And off she tripped, with rosy
stained lips, golden hair floating reck
lessly in the wind, and light elastic feet
bowing down the buttercups and red
clover as she went '
" Dear me, chile," said Phillis, as she
came into the kitchen, rosy and breath
less with the haste she had made, " what
a time you's ben I"
" Not half an hour," cried Barbara,
flinging away her hat, and splashing hei
face with cool water out of. the bucket.
" Has he come, Phillis ?"
"De company young man, miss?'
said Phillis. "No, he ain't An' Miss
Lisette she's a-scoldin' 'cause you ain't
ben to arrange de roses for de big
bokay in de middle ob de table; an'
Miss Maude she done can't fix her hair
to suit her; an' dar's de missus callin'
now. Bun, Miss Barby, run 1"
" There, mamma, I told you so I" said
Miss Maude Wylde, the " intellectual"
member of the family. " It will be an
inconvenient crowd if Barbara comes
to the table."
" Let her wait," said Lisette, serenely.
" But I won't wait I" flashed out Bar
bara, her blue eyes glittering with in
dignation. "I will come to the first
table. After arranging the roBes and
gathering the wild strawberries, and
Mamma, is it right to keep me in the
back kitchen all my days!"
" My dear ! my dear I" remonstrated
Mrs. Wylde, " you are forgetting your
self." " And I do so want to see Captain
Severn I" added Barbara, resolutely
choking down the big sob which rose
to her throat.
"What nonsense I" said Lisette, the
dove-eyed beauty with the rippling
hair and the complexion of rose and
snow. "As if Captain Severn would
ever look at you I"
" But I may look at him, I suppose ?"
cried indignant Barbara. "And I'm
sixteen years old, and you've no right
to treat me like a baby."
"Children 1 children! don't get to
quarrelling," said Mrs. Wylde. " And
Barbara can sit just here behind the
tea-urn, and I dare say we shall have
plenty of room."
"There I" said Barbara, with a tri
umphant grimace at her sister.
" Horrid little spoiled child !" said
Maude.
Barbara always geta her own way,"
commented Lisette.
"Hush!" said Mrs. Wylde, authori
tatively. "Here comes your papa up
the laurel walk with Captain 8evern."
Lisette peeped from behind tbe folds
of the fluted Swiss ourtains, Maude ran
to the Venetian blinds of the bay
window, and Barbara climbed with sixteen-year-old
agility into a chair to peep
over her sister's shoulder.
" Oh, good graoious !" cried she,
dropping from her aerial peroh with
startling suddenness.
" What is it ?" said Maude.
"It's Squire Dallas's hired man I
gasped Barbara.
" What I" said Lisette.
"I I don't mind about the first
table," said Barbara, turning pink and
white, like a York-and-Lancaster rose 5
"I'd rather eat in the kitchen with
Phillis." And away she darted like a
scared young doe, before any one could
stop her. , , .
" Go away I" said Barbara, indignant-
lv
She had cried until her eyelashes were
all glittering and her cheeks stained
with tears, to say nothing of the crum.
pled state of her sash ribbon and whit
muslin dreat, and now aha sat crouched
under the shadow of the great flowering
almond bush, as if aha would fain re
treat utterly out of the world of sight
and hearing. r - ' . ,
Captain Severn vOod inm0TDla P"
fore her, with folded arms and question
ing Spanish eyes. , ,
" I shall not go away," said he, un
til you have pardoned me."
How can I everpardoiryoTi,v flashed
out Barbara." ,f You have imposed upon
me, you have practioed on my creduli
ty. "" You asked ine to' help you gather
strawberries and I helped you."
" You allowed me to suppose that you
were Squire Dallas's hired man."
"I claimed no identity, one way or
the other," pleaded Captain Severn. "I
was trying to find my way by a short-out
across the fields to your father's house,
and sat down under the oak tree to rest
And when you called me I came, like a
true knight of old. Now if you can con
vict me of any serious offense in all this,
I stand ready to ahide the consequen
ces." "You never, ntver, will be able to
forgive me," sobbed Barbara, again re
tiring behind the end of her blue sash.
"Little Barbara," said Captain Sev
ern, falling on his. knees, as if it were
the most natural aad eonventional thing
in the world to do, "will you forgive
met" .,. ... . .... , . .
And what could Barbara say' but
"Yes?" i iiiaro.r;
Captain Severn insisted upon his
strawberry tart that evening, according
to agreement and they ate it together,
he and Barbara, like two school-children,
out on the lawn, while Maude yawned
behind a book, arid Lisette acidly won
dered ' what on earth Captain Severn
could find to amuse him in the chatter
of a child like Barbara."
And when the red leaves of late Octo
ber choked up the little stream beside
which they had gathered wild straw
berries, there was- wedding at the
Wylde homestead, and the bride was
not Maude the intellectual, cor the love
ly Lisette, but little Barbara. .
"Dar's no acoountin' for true love,"
said old Phillis, as she stirred the wed
ding cake. Harper' t Bazar.
. Fashion Notes.
The prinoesse dress model has the
back quite plain,
Basques and overskirts are in demand
for laandried suits. .
Grenadine dresses have the skirt ap
pended to the polonaise.
Afternoon, dinner and evening suits
all have the skirts trained.
Suits with vests and overhanging
jackets are made of musli j. .
Princcsse dresses have a gradu.1 tap
ering off to the extremity of the train.
Oriental combinations are fashions
ble. Dress skirts of the solid shades in
linen and percale are worn with fancy'
ecru overgarments. '
For young ladies the new mantelette
is pretty. The back is out round, and
extends just twelve inches below the
waist
The mode materials for indepe dent
garments are Sicilienne silk, India cash
mere, and Summer camel's hair cloth,
light and dark.
The Summer wraps are very hand
some, and quite novel in style and finish.
The dolman mode, that presents draper
ies in place of sleeves, is preferred by
married women.
The Marie Stuart bonnet is much'ad
mired; the shape is cottage, coronet
front, and arched brim. The modified
Gainsborough is much liked, and par
ticularly by young ladies.
Kich grenadine dresses are trimmed
with side-pleated flounces, arranged
closely together and stitched on by ma
chine. Lace fluted and bands of pas
sementerie, also bands of galloon, both
beaded and plain, are fashionable.
- There are many pretty ideas in dress
garnitures. The simulated style of
trimming is one of the observed peculi
arities of the season. For example, the
front breadth is made extremely long,
and then shirred so as to represent an
apron.
Misses' suits are made almost exactly
like ladies' costumes, with the exception
that they are very simply trimmed.
The polonaise or princess dress is draped
with a scarf, the skirt with tunique is
draped, and the waist has a small
basque.
Satin buttons are used; they are frail,
but when new look very handsome.
Buttons of all kinds are employed as
dress embellishments. Moulds covered
with dress fabrics are passe. Evening
toilets are often beautified with silver
rimmings; galloons with silver threads,
tlver tassels, and fringes are used.
1 A
Quite an Old Mann.
The ripest old Missourian living is
Mr. Christopher Mann, of Independ
ence, who has reached the great age of
one hundred and four. He is the father
of twenty-eight children, e'ghteen of
whom are still living. The eldest, a son
living in California, is seventy-eight
He has been twice married, his second
wife, now fifty-two, still living. He is
grandfather and great-grandfather to
about one hundred and fifty children.
He is well-to-do, his land being worth
$100 per acre, and his dwelling house
covering nearly half an acre of ground.
The first hat ha ever wore was purchased
with wild turkeys; his first pair of shoes
were bought when he was fifteen years
old; his first boots, when he was twenty
three. His folks lived on corn ground
in a mortar, the distance to mill being
so great and Indians so troublesome
that a trip was seldom made. Sticks
were used to prepare the ground in
whioh corn was to be planted, as no
hoes, spades, ploughs, or narrows were
to be had in those days. He has stood
" turn as guard " many a time in Ken
tucky while others were inside a stock
ade or house attending divine worship.
He waa in St Louis seventy years ago,
when it contained one brick house. In
1843 he flr t saw Kansas City, the total
number of houses at that time being
bnt one frame shanty. Ho baa seen
General George Washington and other
celebrities of the revolutionary war;
knew Daniel Boone intimately; waa a
soldier in the war of 1812, was a volun
teer in the Black Hawk war, and bad
three sons in the Mexican war; he waa
also aoout for the government and com
mander of a militia company during tbe
lata war, .
farm, garden and household.
teed! Horses.
Owing to the small size of the horse's
stomach, this animal should never be
allowed to fast for any long period if it
can possibly be avoided, since experience
teaches that at the end of a few hours
his stomach is empty, and the whole
frame becomes exhausted, while the
appetite is frequently so impaired, if he
is kept fasting for a long period, that
when food is presented to him it will not
be taken.. If a horse is required to
travel a long distance, and the journey
must be accomplished without stopping
to bait, it exhausts the horse less to
increase the pace up to his best average
gait than to permit a slow gait consum
ing a much longer time in going over
the ground, and on an empty stomach.
In other words, if two horses are
driven fifty or sixty miles, under similar
conditions as to the weight they have to
draw, and the one is taken at the rate of
six miles an hour, which will keep him
fasting from eight to ten hours, while
the other is traveled fast enough to do
it in six or seven hours, the latter will
be less exhausted than the former,
though even in this latter case the
horse would be all the better for a feed
in the middle of the journey, the time
devoted to such baiting being easily
made up by the increased energy that
would be supplied by the grain.
The human stomach will bear hunzer
far better than that of the horse, and if
the driver feels his appetite pretty keen,
he may rest assured that the animal be
fore him is still more in want of food.
The poor feeding of horses necessitates
the careful study of the peculiar consti
tution of each animal, to ascertain
whether the average quantity and quali
ty of food, which will suit the majority
of horses doing similar work, will be
enough or too much for him. As in the
human subject no inflexible rule can
be followed in all cases. The require
ments of hones vary, not only jin con
stitutional differences, but also in the
work for which they are designed.
Again, some washy animals pass their
food through them so quickly that they
do not absorb from it one-half the nu
tritive elements contained in it Such
horses, however, must be fed largely, if
they are kept at work, while those arti
cles of food must be selected for them
which have a tendency rather to confine
the bowels than to relax t hem. Care and
watchfulness are absolutely necessary in
the economical management of horses,
and to the acquirement of such remun
erative results as will alone make their
ownership profitable. The shiewd,
keen owner of horses, who depends
upon his own investigations, soon learns
that some animals will perform an
amount of labor far greater than others,
while thriving under a fur less quantity
of food; hence he soon determines which
to retain and which to dispose of, leav
ing to tbe careless and indifferent indi
vidual the ownership and feeding of the
unprofitable specimens. American
Cultivator.
Acrlcaltural Aphorlsine.
Plant-food for a paying crop must be
already in the superficial soil cultivated,
or else it must be furnished to the soil
directly, or a good crop cannot be har
vested. Plant-food deposited deep in the soil
must be brought to the surface, or within
reach of the roots of crops by deep
ploughing, to render it of use to the
farmer.
Plants can only live and thriv6 on
food containing the elements of which
they are composed, and animals are de
pendent upon this law of nature. There
fore, to learn how to feed - plants and
and animals properly, first learn the
elements of which they are composed,
and the relative quantities of each, and
then supply food containing the propor
tion of these elements, whether one or
more kinds of food be required.
Food must be various; for this aim.
Air plants have little or no ash. The
carbon in burning unites with oxygen
and passes into the air as oarbonio acid
gas; and the nitrogen in them is vapor
ized and lost as ammoniacal gas, there
fore a large quantity of Spanish moss
ignited, leaves an insignificant quantity
of ash.
The bulk of the forest is oarbon, and
absorbed in the form of carbonio acid
gas from the air. The earthy matters
me, potash, soda, eta, are derived
from the soil ' through the roots of the
trees. -
The essential oils of tea, coffee and of
some other plants and fruits are largely
generated in the processes of drying
cooking or roasting.
Whence come the ethereal and power
ful essential oils in the processes of fer
mentation and distillation, if not formed
from surrounding elements? They do
not reside in the natural grains.
Nature's chemistry is more subtle, far
reaching and more constant in its opera
tions than our highest education can
bring us to conceive.
All the elements obtained from the
earth by plants must be in the soil at
the time of growth in due and sufficient
proportions.
lightning-rods are a perfect protec
tion to buildings when properly con
structed and carefully erected.
Ta Make a Wall Packet.
Gut out from pasteboard two pieces,
one for the back, twelve inches wide
and twenty inches high in the middle,
and sloping in deep curves to the sides,
where it is but thirteen and a half
inches high. The bottom is ont in four,
scallops, and an inch and a half above
draw a line where the bottom of the
pocket is to come. The pocket is
twelve inohes square. Lay these
pieces on some bleaohed muslin and
mark around them with a pencil, but
do not ont away the margin until after
the ornamentation is applied. Arrange
on the front a bouquet of ferns and
surround this with a light wreath, and
place a small pretty leaf in each cor
ner. For the back place a tiny bou
buet in the upper point and a leaf in
each of the others. Arrange an initial
of the smallest ferns found in the oenter.
When all is oorreotly placed and fasten
ed spatter. Arrange leaves or ferns
aoross the bottom before spattering.
Apply the muslin to the pasteboard and
bind each piece with scarlet dress braid.
Stitch the front to the back firmly on
the line previously drawn, and lace the
pocket to the back with scarlet braid.
A Terrible Storm Cloud.
The recent tornado in the West killed
a number of persons and destroyed a
large amount of property. In some lo
calities the effects of the whirlwind were
appalling. A most terrific storm struck
the farm of William Bran, a German,
about three miles south of the village of
Barrington, a suburb of Chicago. The
storm cloud was observed first by Henry
Stofel, the hired man, who was at work
near the house, advancing from the
southwest, bounding over the ground
and accompanied by an almost indescrib
able noise. When it got within about
200 yards of the farm house, it struck
the ground with a deafening noise and
seemed to rest there for a moment It
then rose in the air about fifty feet, car
rying with it a mass of earth, trees,
sticks and debris, and, as it approached
the house, it again descended, striking
the side cf the building, literally lifting
it up, whirling it over and over, tearing
it to pieoes and scattering it in every di
rection. The work of destruction took
place in the air, at a height of about 150
feet Stofel ran towards the house when
he saw the storm coming, taking with
him a little son of Mr. Brnn, but the
tornado struck him when within about
ten rods of the house, throwing him
and the boy in opposite directions. Sto
fel struck the ground about thirty feet
distant, on his back, and lay. there
stunned for several seconds. The first
thing he saw was the house going np,
and he was obliged to hold on to the
shrubbery with might and main to keep
from being aucked into the vortex of the
storm. It was over in a few minutes,
and Stofel got up to see what had be
come of Mrs. Brnn and the children.
The boy who was with bim was picked
up alive, but badly hurt, in a lot a short
distance away. In a pasture about one
hundred rods off, one little girl was
found with her head torn from her shoul
ders and her clothing entirely stripped
from her body, which was fearfully dis
figured. Another little girl was found
lifeless in the yard, where both the chil
dren had been playing when the Btorm
struck. Nearly every bone in the little
one's body was broken. Mrs. Brnn was
found dead abi.ut fifty rods off in a
northeast direction from the house. She
is supposed to have been alone in the
house at the moment the storm struck,
and consequently was carried up with it
and must have suffered a fearful death.
Mr. Brnn was at Plane Grove, about
four miles distaut, when the storm arose,
and seeing the direction it took, started
with all speed for home, but was met
half way by neighbors who told him the
sorrowful tale of his loss. The grief of
the Btrong man was heartrending as he
went hither and thither through the
ruins calling for his wife and children.
A Woman's Conscientiousness. ,
Tbe Haverhill (Mass.) Gazette has a
correspondent who tells the following
story: Perhaps the reader has noticed,
while journeying upon the Boston and
Lowell Railroad, at Willow Bridge,
Somerville, a plain but substantial neat
brick house upon the hill, only a mo
ment's walk from the station. Its doors
have not been opened for twelve years.
Twelve years ago one of the brightest
and smartest mechanics to be found in
our bustling city young, handsome,
whose only apparent fortune was his
daily wages, of which he was very care
ful, saving all he could for the one
bright object of his life, which was to
marry her whom he hod won, as soon as
they could get money enough to com
mence housekeeping. She was con
scientious to a fault, brought up in the
most puritanical of Puritan families,
good, pure, and beautiful. One bright
morning iu spring he invited her to take
a drive in the suburbs. They halted
after about an hour's drive in front of
this house. He asked her how she liked
it Of course she wished it was theirs;
they could be so happy if they only had
a home like that He invited her in.
The house was just completed, and very
nicely furnished. Judge of her surprise
when he quietly informed her that the
property was his, that he owned it. She
was completely dumbfounded, and, of
course, wanted an explanation. How,
when did he come in possession of so
much property ? He tried to avoid the
question, tut she was firm. He finally
told her that he drew 820,000 in some
lottery scheme, and with its funds built
and furnished this home for her. She
turned upon him as though he was the
veriest gambler, vowing then and there
that she would never be his wife until
he cave back the property which he had
gained by what she termed unlawful
means. She scorned all enorts 01 his
to oocupy the house. They separated :
parted at the door, which has not been
opened since. The furniture remains
the same to-day as when they left it
twelve years ago, except what ago has
done. Both are wanderers on the face
of the earth, both lives blasted.
Adulterating Wheat.
The Miller gives an account of a new
trick where one would think it impossi
ble to make a point For iatance,
good honest wheat is good the world
over. But it is not so good when it has
gone throngh the hands of a manipula
tor who ot7 it. The practice is now
followed to a considerable extent on the
Continent It is stated that wheat,
which in its natural condition would
weigh one hundred and twenty three
Dutch pounds, by the process of oiling
will gain tix pounds, or from ten to
twelve per cent, in weight more than
there really is of wheat The gain on
the part of the dishonest seller Is from
twenty to twenty-five shillings per ton.
The apparent increase in the speoiflo
gravity is obtained by an outlay for rape
oil of about four pence. Wheat thus
treated can never be made into good
flour. The practice is not confined to
wheat alone, but is applied to all grain
sold by weight Of oourse the adulter
ation can be easily detected. But wheat
oiled in this way is really a handsomer
grain in appearanoe than when no such
application has been made. It has been
possible to adulterate flour and sugar.
But who ever heard before of a process
for adulterating wheat before milling ?
In this country, where wheat is so
cheap, it is not likely that the cheat will
be very extensive. But in times when
the price is extremely hish. if there
could be a gain of say five dollars per
ton as in Europe, there might be a great
deal of ouea wheat.
Items of Interest.
Bice is a grass, a native of India. .
Salt water is about four per cent salt.
Carrier pigeons fly thirty to forty miles
per hour.
An ounce of gold upon silver wire is
capable of being extended more than
1300 miles in length.
In a ohild the head is equal to a fifth
part, and in a full grown man to an
eighth of the height of the individual. -
"My son is a great mechanical ge
nius," said a lady, speaking of her son.
" He has made a fiddle out of his own
head, and he has plenty of. wood left for
another."
Instead of sitting up nights and wear
ing the down on her oheek off on some
fellow's vest, an Indiana girl has during
the last year made six hundred dollars by
cultivating broom corn.
In a very large hen's egg, weighing
1,000 grains (rather over two and one
quarter ounces), the shell and mem
branes will weigh about 100 grains, the
white about 610, and the yolk 290 grains.
The average weight of a hen's egg, shell
and contents, is about one and three
quarter ounces.
The British colonies of -Australasia
have a population of 2,500,000 souls; a -revenue
of $80,000,000; a commerce of
$475,000,000 annually; herds ageregat- .
ing 7,000,000 head of cattle, and 63,
000,000 head of sheep. Less than twen-
five years ago the colonies were penai
settlements for the convicts of England .
When migrating, birds adopt a tri
angular form of flight, because it is the .
most favorable for cutting the air, and
also because the birds are thus con
stantly supplied with a fresh leader and
as the bird at the point becomes fatigued,
his place is taken by one of the other
birds, who gives way in his turn to
another, and so on througn tne wnoie
band.
The chemical principle of the sun's
rays is more active, relatively to heat
and light, during the spring than at any
other period of the year. As summer
advances, this power diminishes and
luminous force increases ; whilst with
the autumn both light and the chemical
force are subdued, but the radiations of
heat increased. Thus the conditions of
the light of seasons vary to suit the
necessities of vegetable life.
Must it not be exquisitely romantio
to be on your knees before one of Eve's
lovely daughters, heaving up a torrent
of delectable sentiments between her
glowing, parted lips, Aising roses on
her cheek by the acre, briuging tears of
ecstasy to her eyes, and at the critical
moment, when she is on the point of
swooning blissfully away into your arms,
to hear her anxious mother cry : "You,
Sal, hev you fed them 'ere hogs?"
Chicago Com. Adv.
The term "grass widow," is said to
be a corruption of " grace widow," the
former expression being merely a bar
barism. " Grace widow," is the term
applied to one who becomes a widow by
grace or favor, not of necessity, as by
death. It originated in the early ages
of European civilization, when divorces
were but seldom granted, and wholly by
the Catholic Church. When such a de
cree was granted to a woman, the papal
receists stated, Viduca de gratia, which,
when interpreted, is, "grace widow,"
In the law of the French it would read,
Veuve de grace, or "grace widow,"
veuve meaning widow.
Dogs on the Buttle Field.
The suggestion of the Wehr Zeitung
is that a raoe of dogs should be at
tached to armies in their campaigns,
or at least to the corps of ambulance
service attending upon them, and that
after every battle the dogs in question
should be sent forth to range over the
field of battle in search of those wretch
ed wounded soldiers who have not been
killed outright but who have hidden
themselves in some refuge, and after
figuring in the list of "missing" men
too often perish miserably before any
relief can find them out It seems that
the idea of employing dogs in this way
is by no means a new one, bnt was
brought forward two years ago at Dres
den, where some dogs qualified for this
Eurpose were shown in an exhibition,
ince that time experiments have been
made by means of crossing the St Bern
ard with other races with a view to obtain
ing the most suitable breed, and a very
satisfactory result is said to have been
arrived at by the German fanciers. Tbe
precise mode of employing the animals
on their beneficent mission is described
in tbe Vienna paper, which explains
that the dog is furnished with a-leatber
collar and plate, having marked npon it
his number and the division of the army
to which he is attached, and the Geneva
Cross. To this collar is suspended a
small leathern bag, containing pencil
and slip of paper, and even a little lan
tern in case of his being sent out at
night The wounded man, npon being
found, opens the bag and writes hia
name if he can upon the paper, together
with the nature of his injuries, and on
the return of the animal to the ambu
lance assistance is sent under its guid-
ance to the spot where the sufferer is
ooncealed. Land and Water.
Words or Wisdom.
Keep aloof from quarrels ; be neither
a witness nor a party.
Truth is violated by falsehood, and it
is equally outraged by silence.
The tongue three inohes long can kill
a man six feet high.
Deprive yourself of nothing necessary
to oomfort but live in an honorable
simplicity and regularity.
There is an old German proverb to
the effeot that a great army leaves the
country with three armies an army of
cripples, an army of mourners and an
army of thieves.
Liberal of cruelty are those who pam
per with promises; promises destroy
while they deceive, ana the hope they
raise is dearly purchased by the depend
ence that is sequent to disappointment
Our suooess in life generally bears a
direct proportion to the exertions we
make; and if we aim at nothing we' shall
certainly achieve noth'ng. By the re
mission of labor and energy it often
happens that poverty and contempt,
disaster and defeat, steal a march upon
prosperity and honor, and overwhelm
of with abame.
1
J.