famitg Ciatt __- JACOB'S LADDEI3,. The following stanzas are (rota a recent prize poem, delivered at the Urovereity of Oxtord, f.ng• land, by the Rev. William Alexander Alt I many a time we look on starlit nights lip to the sky as Jaco b did or old, ong i to the eternal lights, Tong lo To spell ki theirnp lines in gold. But nevermore, as to the Ilobeew boy, Each on his way the anwt;els walk abroad, And nevermore we ear, ith awful joy, The audible voiceh of God. an eyes te ladder still is set, et to And angel yisietanhts still on and go; Many bright me.ssengers are moving yete:ad- Vora the dark World belovv. A d tiYat 'Thoughts, that are red-crossed aiderea ti t i n e ieet, mg wings, ~,,, 4 Prayers of the church lieart-wishes, rnaking,ll6from , 1 lireirclay.c nurseryol d feet Their flowers, theata • ii Spirits elect, tliro,f ......'i - - For those „1,: .6_ doordi:glq!,_lllFev7 wending . 24.t b . c . 71 , !,_to*1t. faith slobs may. scan, I.Trilifif Tale God ; ascending '''-- L. iSMIt FOR THE LITTLE _ FOLKS, lIENRIETTA'S HAT. Miss Marsh's Sunday-School scholars were all.A‘their places, one;brightliay morning, p in 'od TheY were four little 'girls, between eight 'and twelve years old ; and on this bright morning their faces were particularly bright, and their eyes sparkled with Pleasure';.' 'each had on, for the first time, freshpretty spring garments, and bats that looked as if they had been taken one - Orthe bandboxonly than - Veit before, and wore making their first appear ance at church. Perhaps each one, as they regarded the others, imagined her own a little . prettier Or finer ; and thoUgli the, hymn was sung, and the, A.Jord's Prayer repeated, the new hats were not entirely forgotten ; for Mary - whispered' to Lucy, who was sitting next to her, between the, verses of the hymn " I like blue flowera better tlian ribbons ; don't you ?" The four pairs of eyes, after having taken a good view of thatheiinbers of, their own class, wont roving all around the sahool• room, spying out everrnew hat and, dresh, "and perhaps, comparing them with their oWn. We say perhaps—we cannot tell ; for therais only One who sees, and knows, and can understand all that'gOes oh in the hearts of, children, as well as 'the hearts of 'grown-np persons. The lesson in the catechism had comthen ced, when the school-room door opened, and lw little shy, poorly-dressed child came in, and &Walked' ,timidly towafrd Miss Marsh's seat, and stood at the end of the bench, waiting for the girls to make room for her to sit down. - Her face and, hands were clean, though she wore- no gloves ; and her clothes, though old-fashioned and darned, and even patched in.some pl aces, !were neat the had on a straw hat; intended for summer ; but the,' straw was veryyyltAllow,'atk -it had been worn a good deal, and its narrow pur ple ribbon around the crown the girls could see, at ono glance, was'fided and 'had seen the sunshine a great many times. lktaiy,PokediLli'eyslyty ;rand though they were all staring t at the strange little girl, not one offered a seat, or offered to make room for her,' until their teacher said re proacgully - • • , " - Girls, give Henrietta a`seat." ' Then they all moved and crowded to gether so closilY for Henrietta that none of them should touch, her , clothes, giving the pool; child the seat nearest the wall the farthest from thein,: Mary Who sat next to her, took good care , to draw her new dress carefully under her wkisperlpg, as she did so som'e'thing to' her' Prio'nd'ltucy'titat made them ,both ca i ,tching tkeir teach elfs„,teproviag glance, they colOred and were silent. - Rho finest, dressed children are not„pl ways the ibest scholars, for Whet6the dbitp tervwas,fread, Miss Marsh tolderi - rWta to commence, and - she read lie ; wiP Veil* plainly and distinctly pronpumling all the words correctly; and liary 44 :''whose; turn came next, stammered oveVwords'othAro syllables, aad could not mtaciafricji garo nounce the word Jerusalem Vithout some .assiatance from-Miss Marsh. The girls did not smile at that, however; for they werld (hardly have _thought of calling Marv, who was such itnica-looking, w.ell-dressd girl, stupid or dull, or blamed her for never hay,lng.impro,ved all the 01; , pqrtppities and advtinlagX -that-had beeofgki.itectlier.l. When the time came for her to read again, she read : r " There Was") li:tertain rich man, -which was clothed in purple and fine linen, • and fared sumptuously every day." -- " What does this.,.mean, Mary ?" asked Miss Marsh.. answered Miry, gialpg it 'her vacantly,, and looking idly about the room, while her te,achOr, explained the story - of Lazarus and the r rich man, who had alLthe good things of ros in this warld, 'bat who must have had 'a hareungratoffil, uncharit able , heartror hetwoald not, hatia,s,uffer,e4 a poor diseased man to take only crumblk that fell trom his,botinteous table, while he was enjoyi9g,eyery good gift, that riches could procure him, or if he wes.rfot uncharitable, he was careless,st:rid thoughtless, and had no compassion for the.poor. Th . ere was , no!tyne for longeri explanation, and m, the, iftainoon,"ielken — fill'of thp'elass hut Henrietta were present again, Miss Marsh asked the question : OE AIsiERICAN 13 ..,. , .. .. •- —. inn teach os?'' aeaven I" "lsitiat does the lessoo we read t) `That r;i•bes cannot carry lan, ,few verses 1 promptly iinS,l% l ekl , c.i on e o i remember it. - c0.t,,,i,: :Ltus t f's.nd low I ' will read_l ray . witin you all to lists' the faith o f our ~, ply nrethrec „, mo n ,ye have respect ord of glory, Ixrd Jesus Cltioge -unto' respect to'FJ" with him that Vjld ring, your assembly "' For iiiin in gcodly apparel, it also a poor man• in v ile and ',l:/iP gay • clothing, to raja. thou here '❑ and say unto 4 'thein a good place; and ei• poor, ‘Land thou there, or sit 6 my footstOol, are you . not then par in.yourfielves, and are become judges of evil thoughts?' , - ' .g ,'WhAt does, this teach us ?."! asked Miss • d'aish';' — There, vas..M3 admirer ,at first4'the girls looked at , each other , and at last one re plied : " God is no respecter of persons." " The same chapter tells us, that- if we have respect for the rich and despise the poor, we are guilty of sin. z Have we been guilty, of this sni to-day 7" The girls were silent and Miss Marsh con tinued Last 'week Iwent to see spoor old woman who livei alone, with no other person but her little granddaughter. She has not alwais been so poor , ; ; bat it has ploascd our Heaven ly Fatherlotake away from her many of the blessings of life, and now, when she is poor and old, she has barely enough to. eat. The father of 'her `granddaughter is a wretched drunkard, who cares nothing for .his mother, or his child. Her mother, is cfead, and as long as she can remember She has received nothing from her parent but cruelty and neglect. " I went to see her, to beg, her to come to Sunday-schod. - She - has not been here for a long time. Her grandmother said : "c She cannot come; for thezirls will laugh at her old clothe's, 'and I can get.her no bet ter.' 'Send her next Sunday,' I. said; and I do not believe there is a scholar in our Sun day-school that will laugh at her old clothes! '" The old grandmother's eyes filled with tears when I urged her to let her come, and fearing she, might not be able to come to day, I sent her a hat, that bad been worn beforki, but was perfectly good. Ido not think any of my scholars were ever better , pleased with a pretty new bat than this poor child, was when she Jeceived the old one, that seemed., .like new in her eyes, though it had , been used a whole summer, and its ribbons were a little faded. The grandmother was as well pleased; and both of them hoped it would be , a fine day, and then there would be nothing to prevent her from being here. She came in tirnidily, and shrank toward her place, but contented and satisfied, I no dorilit,.with: the 'elothea she wore, the best she: possesses. flow was she Received by, her classmates ?, " I am afraid they had none of the feel ing that'` the' angels had who carried poor Lazarus in their bosoms to heaven. There were no smiles, no kind looks, no words of welcome, for the poor girl ;: nothing 'but cold, and, perhaps, scornful looks, met her; and the little hat she, bad put on with so much pleasure before she started to Sdnday school was eyed rather contemptuously, as it was compared with its finer .neighbors; and when she took her seat; given unwil lingly by better dressed'giris, they drew any their;. dresses, _fearing' ;they; 'might touch the patched and old-fashioned but neat clothes of the poor child. lam ire thiamlicle,b* unhappy. an d' tin olkttrtaile, andigife9a*ha4gliorldlibine ,with tears .and ,said f,Tcanript i go to school aitailkoStday'; in 2 ylelOtlig - at stit poor, the girls do not Nvaiglr*to•Bit by them, or be in ateir r elP 6l - 1 " -11. r- Thegyrls all hung 'their b L eads: Lucy Maul Opt for the mo ment her now hat` and'its Mee ficiwers. "Let us try and remember that God , 'is no respecter of persons,.and strive to, root out, ,this sinful weakness ' from our vain heart.," said Miss Marsh.— The Methodist. SOWING LITTLE SEEDS. Little Bessie had got a present, of ft new book, and She eagerly opened it to look at the, first. pieture.. , It was the picture of a boy sitting by the side of a stream.; and throwing seeds into the water. " I wonder what this picture is about ?" said she • `" why does the .boy. - throw seeds • in the water?" " 0, I kithivr Sal' her brtyther Edward, who had . been looking at the book ;" he.is sowing the seeds of water-lilies," "'But how small the seed's look I", said. Bessie. o lt seems .strange that: such large. plants shbuld grow from - such little things." 'crYou,are just sowing such tiny seed's every day, Bessie, and they will 'come up large, strong plants after awhile,". said her " 0 no, father • I have net planted any seeds for a long while." ' " I have seen my daughter sow a number 'of seeds to-day." , Bessie looked puzzled, and bep Sather smiled and said, "Jes, 1 bedyou planting.-flowcre, ari. see f fp, and weeds to day." "Now r krie,W that yOU are' joking, for I would not plant ugly weeds." "I will tell you, shat I nws.,,Vhen you laid asible' l ikat—iiiter4s4o7Ali t o and at tended to ~.wkff,t,,yonr,, mother wished you were sowing seeds" of — kindness and 1 .7 (1- heunycNlyoke, t4e Mist that you' lerie'w your mother valued, 'and dime' in stantly and told hecpyou were sowing seeds or,try.,th. When yoa,, took ,the eupof cold Water to the poor woman at the gates you were 'isbwingrrtho geede. , of :Mercy. -These were t all beaatifu4oweks ) . Ausaie. But hope my little girl has been planting the hSBYTERIAN THURSDAY, AUGUST 27, 1860. ree of love to God,' and t great t, chat she will tend and watch it until its branches reach the skies and meet before His throne." THE CLEANSING BLOOD. A visitor among the poor was one day climbing the broken staircase which led to a garret in one of the worst parts of Lon don, when his attention was arrested b. , a man of peculiarly ferocious and repulsive countenance, who stood upon the landing place leaning with folded arms against the wall. There was something about the man's appearance which made the visitor shudder, and hie first impulse was to go back. He made an effort, however, to get into conver sation with him, and told him that he came there with the desire to do him good ; and to sec him happy, and that the book he had' in his hand contained the secret of all happiness. The ruffian shook him off as if had heen ; a, viper, and bade him begone with his nonsense, of be would - kick him down stairs. 'While the visitor was endeavoring with gentleness and patience to argue the point with hini, he was startled by hearing a feeble voice, which appeared to come from behind one of the broken doors which opened upon the landing, saying: "Does your book tell of the.hlood which cleanseth from.all sin?" - For a moment the visitor was too much absorbed, in the case of the hardened sin ner ,before him to answer the inquiry, and it was repeated in earnest and thrilling tones: " Tell me, 0 tell me, does your book tell of the blood which eleanseth from all sin ?" The visitor Toishefl open the door and entered the room. It was a wretched place, wholly destitute of furniture, except a three-legged stool and a bundle of straw a corner, upon which were stretched the wasted limbs`-of an" , aged woman. ' When the visitor, entered, she raised herself upbia one, elbow, fixed, her eyes eagerly upon hint, and repeated her former questions,4"Does your' book tell of the blood which oleatisdit from all sin 1" He sat down upon, the stool beside her, and inquired, "Mye.poor frien'd, what do you want' to know- of the blood which cleanseth from all sin"?" There was something fearful' in the energypf her voice and manner •as she replied, " What do I want to know of it? Man, lam dying I' "I am going to stand naked bfore God. I have been a wicked woman, a very wicked -ivo 'man, all my life. I shall have to answer for everything I have done," ,and 'she groaned bitterly, as the thought of a life time's iniquity seemed to cross her soul. "But' • once," she continued, " once ' years ago; -I :came by tire door of a;chnrch,,and7 - 1 went in—l don't know what fora I - Was goon out again, but one word I heard there I • have never forgot. It was something about blood Which cleanseth from all' sin o,lf I could hear . of it now!, tell me, tell me if there is anything about that blood in your book?" The visitor answered 'by reading the first chapter of the first epistle of St. John. -The •*poor creature . seemed to devour theco wids, 4 atiPwheiv heli_aused, she exelaime,d, "Read more, read plop." He read the,. second chapter—a sliVit noise madehim look round; the - 4avage tuff= had2sfpjlowed him into his motheeetoom, and though 3 InS `.face ! Tally tirned away, visitor could Perceive tears" roll ing down his chees. The vlsitar read 'the third, fourth, fifth chapters, before he could get the poor listener to Consent that he should stop, and then , she wonld.not let him go till he promised to come again the next day. Ile,neVer from that time`missed a, day reading to her until she died, , six weeks af terward; and very blessed was it to Bee how,, altripot from: Abe she , seenied to find peace by believing, in leans. Every day the son followed the visitor into his mother's room, and listened iu silencepbut not indifference.' On the day of her funeral he. beckoned him to one "side, a r ia;iNey were filling up her grave, and said :L 7 " Sir, I haVe been thinking there is nothing I should, so much like as to spend the rest of my life in telling others of 'the blood which cleanseth from all sin" . Thus the great truth of free pardon through the blood of Christ sinks into• the soul and saves' it. Thus grasped when all else is gone, it 'has power to• sustain the drowning;vivito, and ; ,liftO.tr- up‘la hove the floods that' are gOinOver it. Th*ns it breaks the heart ,of a stone, Which nothing ,else could`` touch' and Pinkie Alielvabandened persecutor into the zealous teacher of Chris tianity. . DE.rEETHUNE, 'THE BABIES,'. AND THE ijl 4 phi ILADIES « t . 4 4150616.0 n Senqe 4 'w a s Mr. tethund'S ibenicalid most'wertilily did he treat it, keeping the audience in the best of humors, and frequently sending them off in a rous'- ing guffaw of laughter. "No, one," cop meneetOthe,DOotdr, " .censid erable acquaintance witb the interior of households, can-have failed to have noticed the' lhige' , Thimber of lehildreriy*ho, if vole DinY' trust, their reldtionsi are endowed with a commanding talent, of some lifnd an other.;, In,ev - e97 4oUse' there is nt,,leAst one such. Andlit,Won't do to doubt,,t,he asser tion—for who should know better than the f l athdr or ihe mothiii?—thAtt th4se are all d shined to o sodie tng great In 'the world:.'` The , tutor afterwards.confirms the propliecy, And praises the wonderful ap4 prelitnAk4-litif / WS pupil;'and; lAteT, there falls into the , -parent's 'hand's copy of- the predigy'g verges, ;which he - peruses and ex= hib4 with pride and trembling, fearful' it the trials of the world shOufd be too irent for the• sensitiveness of genius.. ,But, not withstanding this abandance of remarkable children i great talent was rite in the wald and 4).Riglic . !l:44ehpOii,izqt),Vl'oets, artists, sci;le t itr,s,.raqsical,,comPosers, were like the l'few'plailetiPtiNnailkithe multitude of inferior stars. The world was popular witfi'iliiiitfary men, and only here and there could be seen a head which towered above the rest. And it was well it should be so, for genius cannot stoop to the drudgery for which it has no aptitude. The mass must labor for those who translate great ideas for limited understandings. The flowers of Hymettys will not bear transplanting among the leeks and cabbages of the kitchen garden. What lady afflicted with a literary husband does not find him generally as peevish as a sick baby ? and (said the Doctor) I will venture tremblingly to add, what husband who is blest with a literary wife, has not learned that ono of her best talents is for getting up a row ? The wife of a literary Lusband, doubtless, has usually right on her side. We hear a grelt deal said of Xantippe, the scolding wife of Socrates; but she had rea sons for scolding. Let me suggest that any man, who, like Socrates, should give all the market-money to a beggar, and bring home to dinner the ambrosial-locked and young dandy, Alcibiades, might deserve a ducking. It is well we have not many-of these incon sistent geniuses. What would the world be if we had nothing else . ? The fields would be bare of all but weeds; the ships would rot by the side of, the wharves. 'No fair, crisp linen would. clothe the board for the domestic sacrament, no hand, would smoothe the pillow for the sick head, and children would fill the houses with wailing, because there would be no one to succor them. Dr. Bethune, his audience discovered last night, has a wholesome dread of .blue..stock ings, and still more, of the " strongminded " class of ladies. A woman, he said, who hates to be a woman, and loves to strut about the street in the guise even of the ruder sex, loses respect for herself, and gains in return possession " of the awkardest garment that men are condemned, for their sins, to wear. Where, exclaimed the Dr., is the man, who, as a man, is not willing to say, "God save Victoria?" Not because she is a queen, for we care little for that but because in all her domestic, womanly relations, as wife mother, daughter, she had proved herself an exemplar of her sex Fancy Victoria putting on Bloomers and presiding at a Woman's Rights Convention. Only by the plastic powers of religion and love should woman rule over the present and all 'coming generations. And let us mainly rely on every-day men and women for the . 'amenities of life—on men who 'never wrote a line of poetry in their lives—on women who answer the well known deScrip : - tion of the poet: "Her household motions light and free, With steps of virgin liberty; A countenance in which, do meet Sweet records, promises as sweet. A creature not too bright 'or good For human nature's daily food, For transient duties', simple wiles, . `Praise blame . 1.04 e kisses tears , and smiles." THE. LATE' DUFFIELD. A recent sermon by the Rev. Dr. Conway P Wing, of Carlisle, Pa., contains a touch ing tribute to the Woitli 'of' this great and good, man, who for eighteen years was pas tor of the First Presbyterian chnrch of that place, , and for whom the people of' the town over cherished the, greatest, respedt and love. His successful ministry while in dharge of this church, was shown in that six hundred and ninety-seven persons *ere admitted on profession of their faith, and i ! wo hundred by certificate, making an aver age of a little more than forty-eight per sona eacia,year of his pastorate. The discourse alludes in fitting - terms to the early life, and to the mental disciPline and literary quali fications' of the deceased`; to his long and useful labors as a pastor in Detroit, and to the. happy and heti:nail': 'cloie of his Well spent hie .llis. heart was in therough Sympathy with 'men:. The good:Which many do is rather from an overruling Providence and because their own, pleasure 'happens to lie in the direction of what is useful. Many find tbeirhighest virtue in pursaing their, ends on account, Of the intrinsic desirable ness °I. - the objects themselves, rather than for the benefits they secure. .Such is not the, spirit of the true servant of Christ, and especially of our departed brother. The 1 great end for which ho lived was to save and bless his fellow-men. He took delight in science, in social life, and in a beahtiful world,around him.' But he would have re nounced them at,any moment.had theynot been subservient to a higher and philan thropic aim. Others , give up even life on fields of glory, ,but.it is the enthusiasm ,of the conflict, and the eclat of pablic, ap plause which predominate , 0ver.441 , higher influences and give power to motives which otherwise had been feeble. Bathe ; and such as he are sustained by,no such,oneward mo tives, they aril impelled to action and self denial by a simple love of man. They " holier all inert""by aiming at their eleva tion thromgh.,the,oAly rnieacts „which recog nize the true :nehility and: 'totality of their being. And it is to such alone—to such as mean our good, who, pr,,y, for it , and devote their lives to it—that We can feel real grafi ; tude,„, and upon,,their,,mernories oiv we best oar sincerest, Wept pg. The way of goodness is after all the way of true honor.' ,WheANfe beheld' this• aged Christian and minister of God after a lifeef continual struggle, standing before a whOle '.'community - anal receiving' the honors: , and ccingratulations of a large circle of rese t : we il eonld(lo3 j.t . see *tat it was' the homage which the world was compelled to -pay to,virtue and- 011AV - 504050- LA all all -g9prth,to out mtnaining' Work, on earth; resolved to be holier, ftrrner-to our princi ples, and more davoted,to, th,e, snaly pongee which can end in a &riot's victory. In the language of one of the dai , t;:ihymns,our de- I pvted ,bropher esith, J et us ex claim., *l. " e ' What Sinners valUe I' resign, liord;%ii enough that Thou art mine.'"' INTEMPERANCE IN WINE COUNTRIES. We drinkers have been in the habit, for many years, of playing off the wine coun tries agaiast the teetotallers; but even this argument fails us when we question the men who really know the wine countries. Alcohol appears to be as pernicious to man in Italy, France and Southern Germany, where little is taken except in the form of wine, as it is in Sweeden, Scotland, Russia, England and the United States, where more fiery and powerful dilutions are used. Fen ninaore Cooper wrote: " 1 came to Europe under the impression that there was no more drunkenness among us than in any other country,—England, perhaps, ex cepted. A residence of six months in Paris changed my views entirely. I have taken unbelievers with me into the streets, and have never failed to convince them of their mistake in the course of an hour. On one occasion a party of four went out with this object; we passed thirteen drunken men within an hour; many of them were so far glian'e as to be totally unable to walk. In passing between Paris and London I4have been more struck by drunkenness in the streets of the former than in those of the latter.,' Horatio Greenough gives similar testimony respecting Italy. " Many of the more thinking and prudent Italians abstain from the use of wine; several of the most eminent of' the medical men are notoriously opposed to its uSe, and declare it a poison. One-fifth, and sometimes one-fourth of the earnings of the' laborers .are expended in wine." I have been surprised at the quantity, the emphasis and the uniformity of the tes timony on this point. Close observers of the famous beer countries, such as Saxony and Bavaria, where the beer is pure and ex cellent, speak of this delicious liquid as the chief enemy of the nobler faculties and tastes of human nature. The surplus wealth, the surplus time, the surplus force of those nations: are chiefly expended in fuddling the brain with beer. Now no reader of this periodical needs to be informed that the progresS of man, of nations,and of men de pends upon the use they make of their little surplus. It is not a small- matter, but a great and weighty consideration,—the cost of thekdrinktin, mere money. We drink ers must make out a very clear case in order to justify such a country as France in producing: a" billion and a half of dollars worth at wine, and brandy per annum.— James Parton, in the August Atlantic. lad Imam. THE BEST GRASS FOR BUTTER. If you aim,; at a great flow of milk, feed young timothy and white clover ; if you aim at 'the best results, both in quantity and quality'of blitter, feed on fresh, pastures of white clover and timothy in summer, and early cut' timothy and wheat bran in winter. The grass must be cut whenheading out; or better, young aftermath well, cured. Avoid roots and garden , stuff in general, if you wish a good quality of butter—though it is held that those fed while milking; or immediately before, will remedy the evil.--J= 'Valley Farmer. WORK FOR A WET DIY. A practical farmer jots, down the follow ing as appropiiate : Ba4YON I to shoy,el up , a.ntrmanure to haul to next fall' i s *heat ground., - Go over and .fix up , ,ail fences. Barn, , doors, yard gates, etc., to mend. Drains and wash-water outlets to be at tended to. Mowing macbiros to be putin order, ; also, horse rake and hay tedder. Greases witgons, mend larness and bags, wash carriages. Cot and haul wood and clean out cellar, whitewash,•efc. Hen-house - to glean out, and compost for corn - to Make. • `MANURE:- A few simple: rules willienable us to man age a manure leap , so as' to avoid any very 'great ,loss Ist. Prevent At loss lip, drainage and soak ing. MIMEO 2d. , Se 6 that the' animal/. extremeuts are covered with moist straw:' 3d. See ttat while, too Much water is avoided, there is a-suffieieney,to keep the manure moist. • • 4th. Moisture and; padking 'prevent fire faUging 7 —that toii;mid fermentation. sth. If you ,find„it , convenient to use a few bushels of plaster, sprinkle them over the heap. so that the plaster will be incorpo rated with the supeessiVelayers.. It will thus _ prove.of great fiervice,-- abiuniry Gentleman. THE LAST: 'THE UDDER. Pr. Anddrsori sayiihn has:found, by prae ii4l analYsiS, in oneleiViiiiibes, that the last cup drs i wn from the cow's udder eon -tunc& sixteen , times as., Mitch cream as the first one.`''This separation' of cream from ; milk ,t4kes, plade in'part hi' the uddder of the eow;particularly if the cow is suffered 'to stand ratrest for some time previous to milkan If there 'are' people Who doubt that fr _0 ; 144 is i.,(Wmilo46 l ,;i l i, ri,oh*,:eas of milk first AraWII from C 0 IPA,I lid, Pia l t fret he last drawn. -their ;Ltleubta .be. speedily • remo ved bY milking, half- afiloten,coNtii7 and settini, the 'Ciiiiiseparate b frO s the; fAtOT t half., , ; ' " INAr • • SCRATeIiEB4I/ ligorseepit it asserted, can be enied by.applyiag mooning eia ry ; a mistuo jooinpdaedtotolie.diaoh istr iph a te of zin c. 'and tiiiPtittirtOtOtifiglyeelitte:
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