HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher
NIL DESPEB ANDTJM.
Two Dollars per Annum.
VOL. X.
KIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1880.
NO 43.
Christmas Frolics.
" Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!"
What a joylul, ringing cheer,
Memory brings ns, Irom our childhood,
While again these words we hear
Much oi gladness,
Naught ot sadness,
Comes to greet the listening ear,
Sleigh-bells jingling, fingers tingling,
In the icy morning air;
What cared we for cold December,
Or the snow-crust's blinding glare ?
Snow-driit treasures
Proved rare pleasures
When the lass we loved was tbere.
Home returning, love kept burning,
Tdl the happy, star-lit night;
Gathering round the cheerful fireside,
Young and old would all unite,
Apples toasting,
Chestnuts roasting
Anything to give delight.
Then the meeting and retreating,
In the weird and homely reel!
While our youthful hearts kept beating
Time to love we would conceal;
Which we dared not,
Or we o ire l not
Yet to own, or soarce to feel.
Ah! those golden memories, olden,
Come with joy irom youth's bright stage!
Fairest oi the sunlit pictures,
Puintod on life's varied page!
They can never
Hearts dissever
From the glories crowning age!
JValhan Upham.
A CHRISTMAS DIAMOND.
"But, papa, there is nothing else I
want. Maud haa a diamond rine, and
1 1 one year younger than I."
"I am very sorry, little daughter,",
said Mr. Montague, passing his hand
gently over the golden hair of his child,
' but I do not think it wise or proper
for children to wear diamonds."
" You are rich, papa."
. " Yes, Ettiel, but hundreds are poor,
and the money you desire for an orna
ment would provide several families
with many comforts. Papa seldom de
nies you anything, little girl, and in this
case you must consider it wisest and
best for him to decide."
Ethel did no1 consider anything at
that moment, except her desire to pos
sess n diamond as large and as costly as
her cousin Maud's.
It was a few days before Christmas, ami
Elhi 1 was going with her parents to
spend it with Maud's hitler and mother
Mr. Montagu was a wealthy merchant
Andaman ot excellent judgment. When
bis wife entreated him to withhold cer
tain articles of dress Irom their little
daughter lest she should become vain
and fond ot show, he readily agreed
with her, snd E.hel w.is, in conse
quence, well and neatly, but never
showily dressed. Her parents disliked
to see a mere child loaded with jewelry ;
and, as Mrs. Montague remarked:
"Ethel would enjoy noihingin antici
pation if every wish was lavishly sup
plied." For several days Ethel went about in
an unhappy frame of mind. She no
longer ran to meet her lather, no longer
sat for hours in his la j and listened'to
his very interesting conversation about
scientific subjects, or watched him as he
ex.uninen objects under his microscope.
As she expressed it, '"she was real cros3
with j.apa."
Mr. Montague being a fond and indul
gent father, might have given up to tnis
exacting spirit if it had not been for his
wife, who insisted on permitting the
evil to work its own cure.
"Ethel," said her mother, one morn
ing, "you and I will go out to Aunt
Carrie's to-day. Papa cannot come out
before Christmas eve."
" I don't care when we go," said Ethel,
carelessly, still thinking of her coveted
treasure.
Aunt Carrie whs delighted to see them,
and immediately asked them to assist
her in preparing for the family festival.
Ethel forgot her disappointment for a
time as she nnd Maud filled cornucopias
or dressed! dollies. At night, however,
whei the cousins were in bed, Ethel
returned to her cjniplaiuts, and Maud
quite agreed with nor that "it was real
mean in a rich papa to deny his only
child a diamond ring!"
The girls were too bU3y all day prepar
ing presents to find lima for repining,
and Maud's papa was bo full of fun he
kept them all in good humor.
"Sister," said "ha to Mrs. Montague,
"what time shall we look for Charlie?
I propose to drive down my new trotter
and bring him up from the station."
' I havo no i .ea what train he will
take," said Mrs. Montague. " lie has
several purchases to make, and certain
ca! 8 which he never neglects on Christ
mr.s eve."
" Would vou ask the master to step
here a bitf" asked Maurice, the coach
man, of Annie, the sewing-girl, who was
busy wewing evergreen wreaths.
Annie consented, and in a few mo
ments Mr. Merton stood in the hall.
"Well, Maurice," said he, cheerfully,
"Lave you come to ask ior Christmas
out?"
" No, yer honor," said Maurice, "and
if you'll be so kind as to speak low, I
would D3 after telling you there's a
smash-up on the express, and I was
thinking the ladies need not know. It's
five miles below, and the word has just
coue. I wouldn't bother the ladies
about it. yer honor."
Mr Merton took the hint, and said, in
a loud tone: "Yea. Maurice, put the
trotter in the light buggy, and go down
with me to the station."
'If you'll pardon me, yer honor, the
carriage would do better, as mistress is
expecting none buudles by the four
o'co 'k train.''
"All right," said Mr. Merton ! "but
get ready as soon as possible."
The happy group in the music-room
hea- d a portion of the conversation and
went quietly on with their work. Mr.
Morton, however, did not return to
them, but went at once to his dressing
room. Thanks to his own love of order
and the excellent management of his
wife, he knew where to find at once
every article he required, and, by the
time Maurice appeared, he was onite
ready, with mysterious packages peep,
ing out of his pockets.
"Gooci-bye, all,"h Pid, hurriedly
opening the door to look in upon tha
busy group. " Don't worry if you do
pot see Charlie and me until quite late.
I have some last things to purchase in
me viuage."
"Let the last things go, dear, and
come back soon," said his wife.
Once beyond his own grounds Mr.
Merton was a changed man. He could
not drive fast enough, and Maurice, who
was famous for his greit care of the
horses, now urged them continuously to
: ii. a si i .
iuuit?ttBt; Liiuir speeu, uuiiii it oecame ai
most a run.
" First to our station. Maurice "
Maurice obeyed. Groups of men were
standing about looking anxious.
" What news P " asked Mr. Merton.
"Four o'clock express smashed up
and several killed. Our doctors have
gone down, and we are waitin? for an
other dispatch."
Click, click, click, went the instru
ment; the operator bent over it, and the
crowd presstd about.
" Send word to Merton, and have him
bring bandages. Twelve killed. Many
wounded."
"Had you any one on the train?"
asked a bystander, as Mr. Merton sprang
into his carriage again.
" I fear so; but, for your lives, don't
let it reach my family yet. Drive, Mau
rice ; drive as you never did before 1 "
Maurice urged the spirited horses on.
It was a desolate place where the acci
dent occurred ; one or two small houses
were seen, but a swamp intervened, and
the dead and dying were lying on the
frozen earth, with only such comfort as
their fellow-passengers could give them.
Many who were not wounded were too
much shaken up to be of any service.
The farmers' wives living nearest the
scene of terror had promptly sent
blankets and such stores as thev could
think of. The engine was an entire
wreck, and, as yet, the relie f train from
the city had not arrived.
Thank God. there is Mr. Merton!"
iaid Dr. Share, as he finished bandasrinz
a leg with pieces of a valuable shawl.
Air. Merlon's horses fairly flew over the
roadway, and across the treacherous
marsh. What did he care tor horseflesh
now, when human beings were ia dan
ger P
" Bear up a lilt'.e longer," said one of
the doctors to a man whose nalc face
showed terrible marks of suffering,
"help is near at hand."
The man smiled; but ere the fleet
.iorses had finished their work he was
it rest.
"Injured internally," said the; sur
geon. " Hio help tor him."
There was no time for sentiment or
ceremony. The groans of the suffering
;il!ed the ears of the volunteer nurses,
md Mr. Merton had scarcely touched
the ground before he was greeted with
appeals from oil about him for blankets,
brandy, ether, bondages in fact for all
the needed hospital stores.
" Merton." said Dr. Sharp, when he
had assisted him in removing the few
articles he had brought, " they tell me
your brother-in-law was on the train,
but I have not se n him. Better keep a
little brandy yc urself, and find him at
once."
Mr. Merton looked everywhere. Some
of the victims were still imprisoned by
timbers which men wer3 removing as
r.-toidly as possible; others sat or lay
upon the ground, hearing their pain as
best they could. It was impossible to
pass any by when a little assistance
wight save them, nnd moments seemed
like hours to the tilllicted ones.
" I cannot find him," said Mr. Merton
a? he returned to the doctor; "are you
quite sure he was here P"
"Do you mean Montague, the rich
merchant in town P" asked a man who
wsts sitting near by, holding his broken
wrist until his turn came to be treated.
" Yea, my brother-in-law."
" He was here, sir; he sat in the seat
before me; and just before the smash
came tho conductor spoke to him and
called him by name."
" I must not give up the search," said
Mr. M. rton. " Were you on the right
side of the car P "
" Yes, sir, and I was sent down the
embankment over there with half a
dozen others; perhaps he is there."
" No, he is not," said Dr. Sharp, " the
men brought them all up long aeo.''
Mr. Merton was not satisfied. A
whistle was soon heard, and in a few
moments the confusion was increased
by the arrival of the train with supplies
of all sorts, and a large corps of sur
geons; the company had done all iu
their power to relieve the suffering
cuu:-ed by the carelessness of an ignorant
flama .
There was no time to look for the
missing man now; every able-bodied
person was needed to assist the surgeons
and prepare the train for taking the
wounded back to town.
"Mauricp," said Mr. Merton, "blan
ket yo -r horses and search everywhere
for Mr. Montague ; do not leave a corner
of the place without examination."
Maurice obeyed, and was not seen for
some i ime ; when he returned, his mas
tin; was assisting the surgeon in a case
of amputation, and the tender-hearted
Irishman dared not speak to him. The
operation was at last over, and a good
woman was feeding the patients some
stimulants, when Maurice ventured
near.
" I think I have found somebody, sir.
You see it's so dark now it's hard tell
ing who, but I went down over the side
there and I heard a woman singing, and
sez I, it's a queer bird that will sing and
the lues of this going on; so I waited a
bit, and shure it was a woman singing,
loud as you plaze, ' Pull for the shore,'
andlsez, 'Where are ye nowP" And
then it was all still saving a groan, and
then she sang again. So I said as loud
as ever I could, 'Are you hurted, and do
ye want help P' and she called back : ' A
gentleman is here, badiy hurt ; don't let
them leave us.' " ' And where are yeP'
si z I. " ' Just behind a bin rock on the
left side of the swamp near the woods,'
S'-zshe. I called back, Be aisy now
till I speak to the gentleman,' and here I
am, sir."
"conductor," said Mr. Merton, spring
ing up, " can you spare a ianternP"
" Sorry, sir, but every one is in use t
the doctor uave mem an."
Mr. Merton would not despair.
" I will erive vou a hundred dollars for
the use of a lantern fifteen minutes,"
said he; "there are one or two of the
victims in the swamp still, and I must
find them."
"Is that so P We will see what can
he done."
The conductor went out, but did not
return : he was needed elsewhere. Bril
liant fires were already built on one side
oi the track, and around them were
fathered the children and wounded
passengers. Their light only made the
outside darkness more terrible. Mr.
Merton tried carrying a faggot from one
fire with poor success, as the wind blew
out the flame.
" Let me help you," said a lady, whose
face was sadly scratched and had just
been dressed. " If you will borrow one
of the lamps from the cars, I will punc
ture holes in one of these lunch baskets
and improvise a lantern."
"Madam, you will never understand
how much I thank you. Maurice, ask
two of these men to come with us, and
do you lead the way."
Over the frozen ground, over broken
timbers, glass and debris of every de
scription, the little rescuing party made
their way. The embankment was al
most perpendicular, and so slippery that
Mr. Merton found it difficult to retain
his hold on the uncouth lantern. A lit
tle more than halfway, down Maurice
paused.
" I hear her, Bir," said he, " she is
singing another tune now."
"Halloa!" he cried; "we are coming
to help you."
"Good," replied the voice, "he is
very weak now ; be quick."
Once more she sang; this time that
well-known air, "Never give up." The
men grew more and more eager to reach
them, and Mr. Merton in his haste
slipped and fell, causing the light to go
out.
"Sing on, sing on," he cried; "your
voice must guide us."
Still she sang ; her voice was growing
hoarse now, but her spirit?never failed .
Cheered by her, and guided as well, the
rescuing party at last reached the rock.
" Who is with you P" asked Mr. Mer
ton, as he nearly fell upon a prostrate
form.
" I do not know," said she; "he is a
gentleman who was badly wound ed
I am holding my thumb on an artery to
keep him from bleeding to death; be
quick and save him. Where is your
light?"
" Gone out. Has any one a match P"
One man had.
"Thank Heaven, it is my brother!"
exclaimed Mr. Merton, as the light
dashed in the face of the wounded man.
Unknown to the rest, Dr. Simp had
followed directly behind the party, and
was Boon ready to relieve the faithful
girl
" You will please get up, miss," said
he; " you must be very tired if you have
been here ever since the accident "
"I cannot without help," she said,
quietly. "I think my leg is in
jured. I crawled here to him when I
saw him bleeding so, and the rock hid
us irom view, sol sang lest they should
leave us."
"Gentlemen," said the doctor, "make
a chair of your hands and carry this
brave girl up the embankment; send us
down a stretcher as quickly as possible,
and I will soon have these patients
cared for."
Rapidly, skillfully worked the sur
geons, and faithfully the assistants.
Nearly an hour afterward Doctor
Sharp looked into the car reserved for
the wounded ladies, and found the
oung girl looking worn and pale.
" Has a doctor examined vou wound
yet, miss P"
"No, sir," sue replied, famtlv. "others
need them more.1'
Without another word Doctor Sham
lifted her in his arms, and placed her
on one ot the mattresses. A whistle
brought one of the surgeons to him.
"Doctor." said he. "can vou assist
me for a few momentsP"
"Certainlv. Whv has this been so
long neglected P" he asked, as he exami
ned the injured limb.
" She has been savins a man from
death, the one we just dressed, joti
know."
Never in all her life before had Marv
Grey been considered worthy of so much
care. Wto had been a hard thine to her
since her father died, and left her
mother with seven to care for. She had
hoped for an education, and her bright
est, best dreams were ot teaching school.
But it could not be; and Mary worked
day after day in a large room with hun
dreds of other crirla about her. stifnliinor
stitching, until her eyes ached and head
drooped.
She had taken the train at four to go
only to the next station, where her
mother and the boys were waiting foi
her with a royal Christmas greeting. It
cost less to keep them a little way out of
tue city, ana mother lound work for
them all.
Mary's great gift was her poice. She
had taken a few lessons before her father
died and the great change came: but
now she only knew the sonss she heard
others sing, and she dared not trust her
self to think of the music she so much
craved.
Itwa3 "a bad fracture." the doctors
said, 'a very bad one," and the marvel
was how the girl had endured the agony
and still sung on in a clear, triumphant
tone.
"Have that young lauy taken to mv
house," said Mr, Merton to the doctor.
" Better try the hospital," said a sur
geon; "it will be a slow case, and they
tell me she is very poor works in Bright
ti uregory s snoe jactory.
" I wish her to be taken to mv home."
said Mr. Merton with emphasis.
"I wish papa would come," said Ethel :
we need the gentlemen so much now to
put up our last decorations."
' lliey will soon be here," said her
aunt. "Your uncle is still a boy and
enjoys a good frolic with your father."
it was midnight before thev came.
and the house was already prepared ior
them ; for Maurice had gone back and
forth twice for needed articles, and all
the toy oi the morning was turned to
sadness.
"Mrs. Montague." said Dr. Sham.
when Mary Grey was comfortablv set
tled in a luxurious bed. " this brave eirl
saved your husband's life; some time
when you can listen I will tell you the
l hanits to a good constitut'on, Mr.
Montague gained raDidlv. while Marv
improved so slowly that her kind friends
andjher mother were anxious about her,
and often consulted with the Dhvsician.
" Only the overwork of years past tell
ing now, " said the doctor. " II s he were
rich girl and could go abroad bv-and
fcye, she would return made over.''
" Ethel." said Mr. Montague one dav
when the child had hovered about for
an hour.trying to do something for him.
"I was bringing it out to you when the
accident occurred."
"Oh, papa dear, I never wanted it;
we kept you, and that was best of all,
for I had been so wicked."
" But your present was ready and Is
now, dear; I put six hundred dollars in
the bank for you on the twenty-fourth,
ana your Dans: book was about me
somewhere. I did not bring you a dia
mono, my aarnng, out its value. "
" And the diamond, too, papa. What
is Mary but. a sure diamond: and now
you must let me spend every penny ct
the money on her, or I can never be
ulte happj."
When Marv Grey recovered. Mr. Mon
tague provided for her family, and his
daughter paid for her tuition, and only
yesterday Ethel said to her cousin :
" Maud, dear, next ChriBtmss we shall
hear my Christmas diamond sing. Pro
fessor Park says her voice is wonderful
strong, sweet and pure, like her own
dear sell."
"When she sings." said Maud. " T shall
think of that dreadful night when in
cold and darkness she gang to save
Uncle Charlie."
"The Beanty or Baldness,
A great change has taken dace of late
years with regard to tiie estimation in
which baldness is held. Fifty years ago
it was viewed as a serious infliction, a
inisioriune to oe concealed oy a wig or
velvet skull-cap. In some cases, no
doubt, the wig was intended to deceive,
and to give a iuvenile appearance to its
wearer. In the majority of cases, how
ever, the covering was so plainly arti
ficial, that ii was clearly adopted not
from a motive of vanity, but sfmnlv tn
hide an unpleasant object from the eyes
of the world. Of late years, however.
partly, it would appear, from the hahit
of wearing beards having come into
fashion, baldness is far more common
than it used to be. It mav be that nn.
ture furnishes to each human hpinn- .
sufficiency of what may be called hair
ointment to support an average quantity
of hair, and that when men allow their
beards to grow they do so to the detri
ment of the natural covering of the seal p.
Certain it is that a large proportion of
men with beards begin to grow bald at
an abnormally early ace. Hitherto.
however, thev have, when
been willing to allow that they regarded
the lack of hair as a drawback to their
personal appearance. They will now be
inclined to take hieher crmmH. fnr tho
British Medical Journal tells us that in
a lecture on baldness, Professor Fournier
says : " There is nothing ridiculous or
malformed about it, and it confers upon
the physiognomy an expression of wis
dom, experience and venerabilitv. It
adapts itself marvelously to certain
heads, which would be detormed by a
wig, ana is me severe oeauty represented
in SCUlDture bv tin classic, heart nf
3chylus." This is consolation in
deed. Henceforth let men bow before
the severely beautiful; let there be an
end of the use of unguents and oils, and
let depilatories take their place upon the
toilet table. Let the thoughtless and
giddy keep the hair on their heads, but
let all who value the possession of the
severe beauty of iEichvlus eet their
heads as bald as a billiard ball without
an instant's delay.
Mothers by Proxy.
In New York citv there has recpntlv
been established a kind of kindergarten,
wuere me cunaren oi women who work
by the day are cared for durinc Hm
mother's absence. A reporter says
something about the enterprise, as U 1-
lows:
In one room were about twentv chil
dren, varying in age from two weeks to
five years. Theolder ones were playing,
while tlie smallest were carried about
in the arms of nurses. Though thev
were poorly clad, and the little faces
bore the traces of poverty, vet thev
seemed contented. Ti.e dark eyes and
swarthy faces of the little Italian chil
dren present contrasted strongly with
tue Riue eyes anu naxen hair of the
children ot Celtic origin. In nn adja
cent room were about a dozen cradles,
two of which were occupied. A dining-
room ana an omce in the rear complete
the establishment.
'The entire cost of conducting t lie
school," said Mrs. Miles, the superin
tendent, "including salaries, is about
100 per month. The mothers of the
children leave them here at seven
o'clock in the morning, and call for them
again at seven in the evening. If they
leel able to do so they pay five or ten
cents a day, so they may not feel that it
is a charity too keenly. As many can
not afford to pay this, we never ask for
any fee for attending to tha children.
As the mothers cannot take their chil
dren with them in going out to work,
they wero formerly left to shift lor
themselves. They would naturally run
out into the street, mix with other chil
dren more degraded, and the conse
quences may be imagined. The diffi
culty we have to contend with is, that
we have no regular source of income.
but have to depend on occasional contri
butions."
How a Tenor's Voice Sayed a Man.
Paris Gallienani tells a cood gtorv f
tue tenor uucnesne, wno was the hero
of an incident during tho fighting at
Chateaudun. the anniversary of the rir.
iense oi wuicn place has just beeu cele
brated. It was ten at night; the Paris
Franc-tireurs, who had been fighting
nn uay against, ouub uj iwenty tx) one,
were retreating, iiie rrussians were
masters of the town, which was lighted
up oy me Durning iiousss. JDievcn
wounded Franc-tireurs, abandoned in
the Hotel de Ville, had fallen into the
hands of the enemy and were in dancer
ri .j a
ui ueiug ciecmeu. Among tuem Was
Duchesne the lyric artist. They were
all searched and their papers examined
by a Prussian captain, who, in looking
through Duchesne's portfolio, came
across a paper containing the names of
a number ot operas. "What is thisr"
he asked. ' It is the list of oneras T
sing." Among others was the name of
Weber s great work. "Ah." returned
the captain, who was a musician. " vou
ate an opera singer, and have sung in
' Dnr FVfciaclmtz.' Jtf hnra waa ili-nii.
'Id Paris, at the Theater Lvriaue.'
"men i must uave heard you; you
sang with one of our countrywomen,
M'lle Schroeder, did younotf" "That
is so " The captain appealed to reflect :
he drew Duchesne aside, and then while
passing through a narrow street, said
" Kun for your life." Duchesne did not
wait to be told a second time: although
wounded he was not disabled, and suc
ceeded in escaping from the town during
me nigut.
Since 1821, it is calculated in some
lately published and carefully nrenared
statistics that at least 3,500,000 Germans
have emigrated, and of these 3,000,000
nave gone to tue united states. He
tween 1821 and laiO both vears inclu
sive, the total number of emigrants was
only 8,000; bttween 1631 and 1810 the
number reached 177,000; between 1841
and 1850. 485,000; between 1851 and
186 1. 130,000; and between 1861 and
1870, D70.00U. rom 1870 to 1872. inclu
sive again of both years. 270.000 em!
grants left Germany, but in the i even
years which followed, from 1873 to 1879.
the whole number only amounted to
;u,wo.
FiBH, QlftSBH A5 HOUSEHOLD,
Manure for Orchaidi.
Wood ashes are, doubtless, excellent
for orchards; but, instead of being put
around the trees, they should be spread
over the whole land. But where are the
ashes to come from, in this region P We
have little or no wood, and, ot course,
little or no ashes. In our limited ex
perience we have learned one thing iu
regard to orchards, as well as fruit trees
of every kind, that we have cultivated ;
and we believe the principle can be ap
plied pretty much to everything that
grows upon the earth, which is that the
application of manure benefits them all.
Ground occupied with fruit trees shc uld
be manured as liberally as are other
portions of the land used for the raising
of wheat and corn. It is the neglect to
do so, in connection with the general
negligence with which orchards are
treated in many sections, that make
them unprofitable nnd to become worn
out prematurely. And as to the kind
of manure with which orchards ought
to be treated. While any kind, almost
without exception, will prove ot ad
vantage, there is none in the world to
be compared to stable or barnyard ma
cure. A liberal application of this only
every third year, with careful pruning,
scraping, and washing of the trunks of
the trees, will make a prodigious change
in an orchard. This top-dressing can
be applied at any time when the ground
is not .frozen, and, it not bestowed in
too heavy lumps, so as to injure the (or
chard) grass, will yield, in addition to
the fruit, a couple of tons of good hay.
We have known three full crops of good
grass to be cut from an orchard. (?er
mantown Telegraph.
Barriers Burned Away.
The burning of the clay of a garden is
an old and often a ve ry complete method
of rendering the soil permanently mellow
and friable, and ol greatly adding to its
fertility. A little English manual,
" Manures for the Many," gives a
method ol doing it on a large scale, and
the Journal of IIorticulture says there is
no doubt ot its immediate and perma
nent advantage. If this were always
the case, one should expect to see the
sites of brickkilns and other large fires
ovenun by luxuriant weeds from flying
seeds, instead of remaining sterile ior a
length of time, as frequently observed.
It is easy, however, to test the matter in
a small way where tough clay makes
gardening all but impracticable. The
roasting of earth for potting flowers is
common, but it is resorted to chiefly to
secure the destruction of pestiferous
seeds, germs and insects. The clay le
ferred to in the pamphlet was so tough
and adhesive before being burned that
the workmen were obliged to diD their
spades constantly in water to cause it to
slip on the metal. A stack of wood was
built up five feet across and high, with
kindling in the center, and a gutter to
supply draft. The clay around, except
ing that ot the somewhat lmmoved-sur-
facc, was then thrown on in open lumps
lo about a foot deep, and the fire started
and watched. Fresh clay was added
when any part of the clay on the heap
became burning hot. When this last
was heated, a long hooked iron rod ws
used to break down and distribute the
tire so as to enlarge it. More wood was
laid on, flat this time, and over it more
clay, which had been taken out ready so
that the wood could be covered quickly
This breaking down, extension of base,
and renewing, was repeated until all
the clay had its sticky tenacity and
other bad qualities roasted out of it.
rbo succeeding crops are described as
having been amazingly tine.
Keclpei. .
Fbuit Joiinntcake. Two cuds ol
sour milk, one teaspoonful of r-aleratus.
one tablespoonful ot butter, ouo heaping
laotespoontui ot sugar, one cup ot ready
cooked fruit which you happen to have,
that win not color the cake, as apple,
pear, peach or quince sauce, salt and
thicken wi'h corn meal and bake quick.
Fried Bkea.d Pudding. Take astale
loatot baker's bread; cut in slices; beat
up six eggs, stir them into a quart of
milk; dip the shce3 into the miik and
eggs; lay them upon a dish, one upon
another, and let them stand about un
hour; then try them to a lieht brown in
a little butter; serve with pudding sauce
or syrup.
Butteked Apples. Peel a dozen an-
plest, first taking out the cores with a
thin scoop. Butter the bottom of a
nappy or tin riUh thickly; then put the
apples into it. Fill up the cores with
powdered sugar. Sue powdered cinna
mon or grated lemon peels. Pour a
little melted butter over them and bake
twenty minutes. Serve with cream
sauce.
Cream Potatois. Pare and cut the
potatoes into small squares or rounds.
cook twenty minutes in boiling water
and a little salt. Turn this oli', add a
cupful of milk, and when this bubbles
up a tablespoonful of butter, with a tea
spoonful ot water; wet up with cjld
milk; also a little chopped parsley; sim
mer five minutes and pour out.
Fattening Swine,
When hogs are belne fattened in Dens
there should always be two apartments,
the one for feeding and the other for
sleeping in . The one should be cleaned
daily, and the other kept well littered
with straw, and the straw renewed as
often as the nest becomes very dirtv
When first penned, mix with the feed of
each hog at least three or four times a
week a teaspoonful of sulphur and also
teaspoonful ol pulverized copperas.
Feed regularly three times daily. A
rubbing post in the inclosure will be of
advantage. Also place in a trough under
shelter a mixture ot rotten wood, pulver
izea cuarcoai, asnes ana salt. These
methods or an open range are indis
pensable to the good health of the herd
Nutritive Qualities of Fodder.
The DroDortion of nutritive matter
in one hundred pounds of the following
suostances is as ioiiows :
Flesh. Fat-
loruiers, torwers,
pounds, pounds.
Clover hay ' 134 30
Timothy eg 48
uorn iu m
Oats 13 HI
Wheat bran 14 60
Shorts 10 50
Buckwheat bran 64 48
Potatoes 9 21
Apples 4 U
Mangels 1 0
The whole of these amounts may not
De digestible, but they serve to give
good idea of their relative value.
Condiment! for fowl.
A moderate quantity of cayenne Den
per, mustard or ginger can, with great
benefit, be added to the food of fowls to
increase their vigor, and to stimulate
egg production. This diet, although
apparently artificial, is really natural;
for wild birds of the gallinacean family
have nccess ti very many highly-spiced
berries and buds articles that give the
"game flavor 'to their flesh. Although
there is more or less of an aromatic
principle in wheat, Indian corn and
other grains consumed by the domestio
fowl, yet the quantity is not sufficient to
supply the place of the stronger spices,
a taste for which is inherited by the
fowl.
Making Butter In Cold Weather.
Strain the milk into pans that have
been previously rinsed in hot water;
put it on the stove for a lew minutes ;
then remove it to the place in which
you usually keep it. See that it is not
too cold. The next day put it on the
stove again, make it very warm, and re
turn it as before. Skim it into an
earthen bowl, pour oft the thin cream
that will naturally fall on the sides ; stir
everyday; the third day stir it with
your hand or butter ladle; when nearly
come pour in the thin cream by degrees ;
if with the former, pour some boiling
water on some bran, rub ycur hand well
with it, then rinse. There are some cows
that will naturally make frothy cream,
and should be disposed of. The way to
try them is to strain the milk into sepa
rate bowls, skim and stir with a spoon.
Bedding for Cattle.
There is no farm work, considering
the outlay, that pays so large dividends
as the procuring of some sort of bedding
for the cattle, for it not only keeps them
clean a great point in itself but also
promotes their growth and thriftiness,
and the additional accumulation for the
manure pile will more than pay for the
labor. There is usually a large amount
of litter that goes to waste that if thus
utilized would be of great service.
Straw, oats, cut corn butts, etc., are
valuable, and fine sand is not objection
able, for in itself it is one of tho most
cleanly of beds, and as it is a iarge ab
sorber of liquids, and is of real benefit
to clay land, there is no solid reason
why a few loads of it may not be j :di.
ciously used. A farmer of our acquaint
ance late in the fall takes his trucks,
puts in long stakes, and makes a four-foot-deep
box and gathers forest leaves.
One man gathers them with rake and
basket. These leaves are stored away
in an unused stable, and what can be
crowded into a bushel basket makes a
fine bed for a stable of cows tor a couple
of nights, and are fine absorbents. There
is no farmer but that can provide bed
ding of some kind, and also have dry,
wholesome stables for his cattle, and. if
he consults his interests, and once fully
tests the value of plenty ol bedding, lie
will always ia the future practice bed
ding his cattle and stock.
Protection for Trees,
Trees, shrubs and roses should be pro
tected by putting long straw around the
body and branches, tied well with cor'!,
so as to prevent growth iu the month of
March, or warm weather toward spring
In many parts of this country the cold
weather, after a commencement of
growth, destroys more trees and roses
than colder weather iu the earlier p irt
of winter. Those who observe the
above directions will be very certain to
keep their trees and shrubbery alive, and
and it is only a few minutes work
in. proportion to the investment, Treej
recently set are not in so much danger
from severe cold weather as the sudden
changes, and protection until acclimated
is absolutely necessary.
Earning a Living.
It is very hard to understand how the
uttSd of men live in this or any lavKC
itv. where everything irom a wink of
tleep to a m uthtutof food, must always
bo paid tor. liut r, is much harder to
understand how women eko oat a ouV
3istence ; ior they have far les.i strength,
interior health, and generally much
lower wage3. It is estimated that some
60,100 women in and about thh city
alone earn their own living, nnd thai
the number steadily increases from year
to year. They are ot all grades, from
erirau's to tashionablo modistes, book
keeper', artists and managers. A num
ber of them are mombeis of intel
lectual professions, fcuch as medicine,
ournalism, lecturinir, noting Not a
fow of them cam a good deal of money,
notably actre.-bps, milliners and dress
makers, and often they acquire a han l
some independence. Tue profits of
actresses are probably higher than th' ae
of any other feminine calling; then
come milliners and next dressmakers.
Lecturers have hitherto made consider
able L.oney Anna Dickinson cleared,
it is said, $40,000 in one year but
recently tho public has cared very little
tor them, the business having been
overdone and the quality of the lectures
having grown very poor. A number
of women who have done very well at
it have been obliged to retire irom the
field for lack ot patronage. Actresses.
on the contrary, command higher sal t.
ries aud secure more lucrative engago-4
ments than ever. But t ;ey must have
talent, some power of attraction. They
cannot, as many women believe, ru6h
upon the stage without any meital en
dowment, and get suddenly rich. Mil
liners and modistes, after they have
gained a fashionable reputation, thrive
famously : but they are necessarily few.
The bulk of the sex employed as seam
stresses, saleswomen, teachers the
teachers who do well are exceptional
copyists, and the like, get very meager
compensation. It is calculated that, of
the hO.OCO feminine workers, the aver
age earning is not over $ to $t.oo a
week. How thev can pay their board
or purchase food and shelter with such
a pittance eludes comprehension. And
then, it should be remembered that the
majority ot them provide tor others tn
well as themselves ; for it is a general
rule that anybody who can earn money
is sure to have dependents. Ordinary
servants, ot whom very tew are Amen
can, are said to be more comtortab e
than educated and refined laborers f
native stock. They get from fa 50 to 4
a week, and have good food and lodging
included, which is a most important
consideration. While many American
w men would materially improve their
CDiidition by going into the kitchen, they
surinK irom doing so because n seems
menial, and our born republicans hate
t be menials. For a woman to earn
her own living is far harder than shows
on the surface. To some women it is
little leas than tragical.
Lizards have been found imbedded in
chalk rocks, and toads have been dis
covered in wood, blocks of marble, and
omer situations, wtere, to all appear
ances, they must have been entombed
for manv veara. Rnaila nnd nhamolonna
it has been repeatedly asserted, will live
U)vii an nioiie,
AUT0M4TISM.
Cnrloue Eflecta of Cnrioui Camel on
Man and Beast,
We are not left to the unaided study
of our mental processes for proof that
the human brain is a mechanism. In
the laboratory of Professor Goltz, in
Strasburg, I saw a terrier from which he
had removdd, by repeated experiments,
all the surface of the brain, thereby re
ducing the animal to a simple automa
ton. Looked at while lying in bis stall,
he seemed at first in no wise different
from other dogs; he took food when of
fered to him,"wa3 fat, sleek and very
quiet. When I approached him he took
no notice of me, but when t he assistant
caught him by the tail he instantly be
came the embodiment ol fury. He had
not sufficient perceptive power to recog
nize the point of assault, so that his
ke.per, standing behind him, was not in
danger. With flashing eyes and hair all
erect the dog howled and barked furi
ously, incessantly snapping and biting,
first on this side and then on that, tear
ing with his forelegs and in every way
manifesting rage. When his tail was
dropped uy the attendant and his head
touched, the storm at once subsided,
the fury was turned into calm, and the
animal, a' few seconds before so rageful,
was purring like a cat and stretching
out its head for caresses. This curious
process could be repeated indefinitely.
Take bold of its tail, ai d instantly the
storm broke out afresh; pat his head,
and ail was tenderness. It was possi
ble to play at will with the passions of
the animal by the slightest touches.
During the Franco-German contest a
French soldier was struck in the head
with a bullet and left on tho field for
dead, but subsequently showed sufficient
life to cause him to be carried to the
hospital, whero be finally recovered his
general health, but remained in a men
tal state very similar to that ol Professor
Goltz's dog. As he walked about the
rooms and corridors oi the Soldier's
Home in Paris, he nppeared to the
stranger like an ordinary man, unless it
were in his apathetic manner. When his
comrades were called to the dinner-table
he followed, sat down with them, and
the food being placed upon his plate,
and a knife and fork in his hands would
commence to eat. That this was not
done in obedience to thought or know
ledge was shown by tho fact that his
dinner could be at once interrupted by
awakening a new train of feeling by a
new external impulse. Put a crooked
stick resembling a gun into his hand,
and at once the man was seized with a
rage comparable to that produced in the
Strasburg dog by taking hold of his tall.
Thefury of conflict was on him; with
a loud yell he wou'.d recommence the
skirmish in which he had been wound
ed, and, crying to hts comrades, would
make a rush at the supposed assailant.
Take the stick out of hii hand, and at
once his apathy would Bettle upon him;
give him a knifo nnd lork, and whether
at table or elsewhere, he would make
the motions of eating; hand hlmaspado
and he wonld begin to dig, It is plain
that the impulse produced by seeing his
comrades move to the dining-room
started the chain of automatic move
ments which resulted in his seating
himself at the table. The weapon called
into new lite the well-known acts of the
battlefield. The spade brought back
the day, when, innocent of blood, ho
cultivated the vineyard of sunny
France.
In both the dog and the man just
spoken of, the control of tho will over
tho emotions and mental acts was evi
dently lost, and the mental unctions
were perlormeJ only in obedience to
impulses from without i. c, were au
tomatic. The human brain is a com
plex and very delicate mechanism, so
uniform ia its ueii'jns. so marvelous in
its creation lha: it is able to measure
the rapidity of itsown processes. There
uve scarcely two brains which work ex
actly with tli-a same, rapidity and ease.
One man thinks taster than another
man for reasons as purely physical ns
those which glvo to ono man a faster
g iit than that of another. Dr. IT. C.
Hraod, itt LippinacU.
Punched nnd C:ipjc:I Coin.
Punched aud clipped coin seeim to ba
incre.ising rapidly, and it is already a
sourcaot vexation to many, and of loss
to small dealers. The practice of drill
ing pieces of coin as playtliinu for chil-
ren has always prerni lea to a limited
extent, and, although it is wrong, it is
not done with wrong intent, and ihe
number of pieces drilled for this purpose
is insignificant in comparison with the
number which are drilled, punched or
clipped for the sole object of gain.
ueaiers generally would be pleased it a
law could be devised which would en
able them to refuse mutilated coin with
out giving offense or loiing customers;
ut it is doubttul it such a law cou a no
devised. Something can be done, how
ever, to abate the nuisance, jf not to
abolish it; and it is the special province
ot business men to do it. Tney should
not only decline it at their pUces of busi
ness. but they should refuse it in the
saloon, the restaurant, the cigar store,
tho street car, the m .rket, and in a'l
other places. It is competent for Con
gress to pass an act prohibiting tho cir
culation of such coin us money, hut
tho government would be incompetent
to enforce the law, and it woult be
unwiso to make a crimo of what is
considered an indifferent action. If
the business men in every cemmunity
would do their duty in the premises,
their example would be followed, and
mutilated coin would become srarce.
Braditrett's.
He Smiled a Lucky Smile.
There was quite a scene in the Galves
ton court-house the other day. A young
lawyer had just finished an impassioned
appeal, and dropped, as he thought, into
his chair, but missed the chair. As he
struck the floor there was an explosion,
as if a young cannon had exploded.
creating much excitement. The prevail
ing opinion was that a pistol had ex
ploded in his hip pocket, but, upon rais
ing him up, it was lound that he had
flattened out a beautiful silk hat. It
seems that an old bun re k less member
of the bar was to blame for the explo
sion. When the young lawyer was
about to sit down the eider pulled the
chair away, but he had lorgotten that
his own silk hat was under that very
chair. The rider lawyer laughed bois
terously until he identified the mutilated
hat as his own, and then he smiled suou
a siekly smile that, had it been photo
graphed and sent to tho Houston bj.ird
of health, they would have been fully
justified in quarantining at once. He
says that is no way tor a man to try on
a bat, anyhow. Qaleiton New$,