The Millkeim Journal, PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY BY R. A. BUMILLER. Office in the New Journal Building, Fenn St., near Hart man's foundry. tI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADV ANOE, OB $1.86 IF NOT PAID IN ADVANCB. Acceptable Correspondence Solicited Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL. BUSINESS IIARTER, Auctioneer, MILLHEIM, PA. y B. STOVER, Auctioneer, Madisonburg, Fa. H.REIFSNYDER, Auctioneer, MILLHEIM, PA. 13 K J ° HN F BARTER, Practical Dentist, Office opposite the Methodist Church. MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM PA. D. 11. MINGLE, Physician & Surgeon Offllco ou MAIU Street. MILLHEIM, PA. GEO. L. LEE, Physician & Surgeon, MADISON BURG, PA. Office opposite the Public School House. GEO. S. FRANK, Physician & Surgeon, REBERSBURG, PA. Office opposite the hotel. Professional calls promptly answered at all hours. J)R. W. P. ARD, Physician & Surgeon, WOODWARD, PA. jg O. DEININGER, Notary-Public, Journal office, Penn St., Millheim, Pa. and other legal papers written and acknowledged at moderate charges. J. SPRINGER^ Fashionable Barber, Havinq years 1 of experience. the public can expect the best work and most modem accommodations. Shop 2 doers west Millheim Banking House, MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, PA. QEORGE L. SPRINGER, Fashionable larber, Corner Main ft North streets, 2nd floor, Millheim, Pa. Sharing, Haircutting, Shampooning, Dying, Ac. done in the most satisfac * tory manner. Jno. H. Orris. C. M. Bower. Ellis| L. Orris. QRVIS, BOWER & ORYIS, Attorneys-at-Law. BELLEFONTE, PA., Office in Woodjngs Building. "D. H. Hastings. W. F. Reeder JJASTINGS A REEDER, Attorneis-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street, two doers east of the office ocapied by the late Arm of Yocnm ft Hastings, J (J. MEYER, Attorney-at-taw, BELLEFONTE, PA. At the Office of Ex-Judge Hoy. m*M. C. HEINLE, Attorney-ai-Law BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices in all the courts of Centre county Special attention to Collections. Consultations in German or English. c A. Beaver. J. W.Qepbart. •jgBAYER & GEPRART, Attorneys-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Alleghany Street. North of Highßtree HOUSE, ALLEGHENY ST., BELLEFONTE, PA. o. g. mcmUJLen, PROPRIETOR. Good gamnle Room on First Floor. Free Boseto and now u trißS * B P cial rat ® 9 witnesses and Jurors. QUMMINS HOUSE, BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA., EMANUEL BROWN, PROPRIETOR House newly refitted and refurnished. Ev erything done to make guests comtoi tabje. Ratesmoderate. Patronage respectfully mci- ®te iPillkm Sutwil R. A. BUMILLER, Editor. VOL. 59. The Old Bachelor. "Ilovr did I come to adopt her ?" My dour friend, that is about one of the silliest questions I ever heard lo come from a man of your wisdom and common sense ! It was Fate, that's what it was ! Personally, I had no mote to do with it than you have this moment. These things are all ordain ed and marked out for us, and we can neither avoid jior alter them. Fatality, d you call the dcctriue ? Well, call it what you will—there it is, and you can't make anything else out of it ! But about little Magdalen. I was coming down Broadway in a great hur ry to catch an uptown stage before all those ferry people blocked into it.when there she sat on a curb stone, the wind blowing her yellow hair about and her poor little hands blue with cold, crying as if her heart would break. I didn't think the veiiest savage could have helped stopping to ask her what the matter was, and I don't call myself a savage, if Ido happen to have my lit tle crusty fits now and then. So says I : "Child, what's the matter ?" "I'm lost 1" said she. And come to inquire, why the poor 'lttle elf was fatherless, motherless, friendless, in all the wide world ! Of course, I took her home, and you ought to have seen old Hannah, my house keeper,stare when I walked io with the yellow-haired baby clinging to the lit tle finger of my left band. For she wasn't more than eight years old, and small at that I "I give you a month's warning,sir I" says Hannah. But, bless your soul, she didn't go. Maggie took her heart by storm, as she always hai done that to the rest of the world, and at the month's end you couldn't have hired old Hannah to leave the child. Weil, sir, she grew up as tall as a reed, and as pretty as a posy. I seut her to Madam Aimard's fashionable French boarding-school, for I was not going to have my Maggie a whit behind any one's else girl, I can tell you. My sister Simpkins objected. You see, with those nine daughters of hers, sne grudged every penny of my money that was spent on any one else. "You're putting silly notions in the child's head," said she. "A girl that will have her own liying to earn, ought not to mingle with Madam Aimard' 9 young* ladies." "I should like to know why ?" says I. "Because she is in no way their e qual I" said Sister Simpkins. "Fiddlesticks I" says I. "My Mag gie is good and pretty,and if that don't constitute equality with any girl alive, I'll bwn up that we don't live in a re publican country ! As for earning her own living, why it's my business to look after that, and no one else need trouble their head about it I" Mrs Simpkins pursed up her hps and looked unutterable things, but she did not dare to say anything more. She knew of old that I wasn't to be disput ed when my will was up. But I sent the nine Miss Simpkinses nine coral necklaces the next Christmas, and that kept the peace for awhile. When she came home from the boarding-school, she was prettier than ever—tall, as I said before, with yel low, silky hair, great sbady-lookiDg blue eyes, with lashes that curled up at the ends, and cheeks %s fresh and pink as I remember the inside of two big shells that used to stand on my grand father's best room mantel fifty good years ago. So I cast about in my mind to find some new plan for making the old bouse lively for my little girl. I knew she couldn't thrive without her inno cent gayeties, any more than a bird could without free air and sunshine ; so I invited compsßy, and made up lit tle impromptu parties and frolics, and beat my brains for something to keep her amused. And I believe I succeed ed too, for her -step was as light as a feather, and you could hear her sing all over the house, when she thought she was alone. And one day old Hannah came in, dusting chairs, and prying about for finger-marks on the paint in her odd, near-sighted way. "Mr. Pelham," says she, rubbing a way at a door-knob that was as bright before as hands could maks it, "what would you say if we were to have a wedding in the old house V" "A wedding I" I dropped my pen so that it made a big round blot on the paper, and stared. "Why, you're not going to be married, Hannah, after all these y ears ?" "Do I look like it ?" sniffed Hannah contemptuously—and, to tell the truth, she didn't very much. "No, indeed, sir; I hope I know my place better than that. It's Miss Maggie I'm thinking of, sir." I sat as if I had been stricken with a paralytic shock. Maggie to be married! MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, MAY 28., 1885. Strange that I had never thought of that, as a natural consequence of par ties, companies, evening concerts and summer picnics I And somehow a des olate chill crept uown my veins as I thought how lonesome and dreary the old house would seem without Mag gie. "What makes you think so, Han nah V" I asked rather dolorously, and the old woman lowered her voice mys teriously as she answered. "It's that Mr. Carlisle—he keeps coming all the time, and it's my honest belief he just worships the grouod ray young lady walks on. He is yery hand some, too, and folks tell me he's worth money." Mr. Carlisle 1 Well, old Hannah was right. He was a fine looking fel low, and well-to-do in tnis world's goods ; but—who was there, after all, worthy of my tall, golden-haired prin cess with dewy blue eyes and lips like scarlet coral newly plucked out of the sea ? Why couldn't Carlisle go off and marry one of the wise Miss Simpkinses, whose mother was on the look-out for husbands as an ogress whatches foi eat able young travelers ? I began to hate Carlisle. "Pooh l" said I, upsetting my waste basnet of papers over the floor with an unwary fling of my feet. "I don't think she cares for Carlisle." "Just you watch her, then, and see for yourself," said old Haunah, wisely wagging her cap border. "I never did set up for a prophet, Mr. Pel ham, but them as isn't blind 'can't help seeing, and our eyes is given to us to use." So old Haanah went her way,leaving me about as uncomfortable as a man has any business to be. My Maggie to be married 1 My pretty blossom to be plucked just as soon as it began to shed fragrance round my door-stone. I felt as a monarch may whose domains are invaded by an audacious foe. Should I write Carlisle a note and tell him to go about his business, or should I simply convey to him by my manners the hint that his presence was no longer speci ally desirable, or—but old Hannah's words iecurred uncomfortably to my mind—should I first find out whether Maggie really did care for the young up-start ? My head dropped on my hands—my heart sunk somewhere below zero at the idea ! I wondered if all fathers felt so when gay young cavaliers came wooing at their gates ! And, after all, Maggie wasn't my real child, dear ly as I loved and tenderly as I had cherished her. I think I hardly slept all that night. I tossed to aud fro on my pillow, count ing tl)9 chimes of the old clock, as one by one it told the bours.tbinking about Maggie and Carlisle, and wondering if the tardy daybreak would never redden over the hill-tops. By that time my mind was made up. I would repress all these selfish ideas and only think of my gill's ultimate happiness. If she liked Carlisle, why Carlisle should have her. I rose, dressed and went down to my study. The first thing I saw was SJ note lying on my library table. Prob ably it had arrived late last night. I broke seal ; it was from George Carlisle, asking permission to address Miss Magdalen Pelham. Well—it was nothing more than I had expected—in fact, it rather exped ited matters, which ought not to run too slowly. I refolded the epistle, and loooked severely at myself in the oppo site glass. "You middle-aged old iogy," quoth I, staring at myself with the seyerest expression of countenance I could call up at so short a notice, "I see through you. You have dared to suppose bright-eyed Magdalen could prefer you to these gay young fellows nearer her own age—you have even presumed to fall a little spice in love with her your self. It will do you good to have some of the nonsense taken out of you. At your time of life too 1 Did you ever see a chestnut tree blossoming in No yember or a grape vine loaded with blue fruit at mid-winter ?" So off I trudged into the garden where Magdalen always walked in the early morning to tell her of young Car lisle's proposal. She listened, looking very pretty and preoccupied, until I had finished. "Well ?" said she. "Well ?" I quoth, "what do you say ?" "What do I say ? No, of course !" "You mean yes, my dear," said I, "if you'll only take time to think.-" # "I mean no I" she flashed out. "Oh, Mr. Pelham, how can you think so basely of me V" "Basely, my dear. I don't compre hend you." She was beginning to cry now—big, sparkling drops like the first glittering diamonds of a July shower. "I don't love hiin. I never can love him." "But, why not, my dear ?" A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE . . "Because I love somebody else," she sobbed, growing pinker and prettier than ever. "Who is it, Maggie ? You'll tell me, won't you V Why, child"—as she shrank blushingly back—"l am old e uough to be your father 1" "You are not 1" she exclaimed, in dignantly, "and you are the last person in the world I would tell I" "My darling, why not ?" The enigmas these women are ! in stead of answering me, she began to cry ugain as if her dear little heart was going to break. And suddenly a great light Hashed in upon my mind ! "Magdaleu 1 Darling ! Is it me that you loy# ?" And in another moment she was laughing and crying on my breast ! The old chestnut tree was garlanded with blossoms, even though its prime was past—the vine of life was man tling in blue clusters ia the late, late harvest 1 So I had to send as civil a note as possible to young Carlisle—and it's sur prising how my feelings moderated to ward him as I worte it I And that is the way I won this peer less rose among women to be my wife —and I don't think she has ever regret ted marrying the old man yet. Though I shouldn't dare to call myself "old" in her presence, to speak truth. Peo ple say it's a romantic story, but I say it is only an illustration ot the fact that there is more romance in real life than there is in books, if we only knew it. OUR DAUGHTERS. Written for the Reading Dispatch by MART W. NORTON. Almost daily we see in the newspa pers accounts of elopements ot betray als of young girls, which Invariably bring the name and honor of woman into reproach, and almost make pure, good women think there is no virtue or honor in the rising generation of young women. Every day we can read of the downfall of some young woman, or the runaway marriage of some young girl who should hardly have been allowed to go beyond the parental threshold alone, much less form the ac quaintance of men, and especially men unknown to their paren's. Such things seem to be becoming more fre quent every day, and it is time that parents make an effort to check it, and the sooner they lealize the duty they should by no means neglect, in the proper training and education of their daugnterß, the soonei will such things be unknown. In the first place, we should try to make our homes such that our daubgters will reluctantly leave them, even after we have given our consent, and never without. We should condemn any action whereby the name of woman is degraded in the presence of our daughters, and implant into their minds a hatred for anything of an immoitil nature. We take great pains in securing them good school ed ucations, so the world may think them accomplished, and yet we leave them go on to learn through a sad experience that which might have been averted had parents exercised a proper care and influence over them. Do we not fre quently allow our daughters to go to places where they see sights and hear language which should make any wo man blush t And worst of all, we allow then to go upon the streets alone, and comfort ourselves with the belief that will molest them or that they will do anything wrong because they are our daughters. True, a lady may ap pear upon the streets unprotected, but when she is often observed promena ding, especially after dark and alone, there are always those who are quick to notice it and form opinions which are anything but favorable to her char acter, and they at once lay traps and schemes for her moral destruction. Is it not a shame that young men and boys are allowed to loaf around street corners and various other places, who make a practice of insulting and mak ing indecent remarks about every young lady who must pass alone ? Can parents allow their daughters to go a bout at night, wheu they know that such is the case, and never feel any concern about them, or feel that they should warn them of such danger ? Mothers, let us try to make home hap py and pleasant for our daughters, so they will have no desire to go upon the streets, aud under our care guard zeal ously the name and honqr of those near and dear to us. Tbey should know that there are those who are constantly watching for an opportunity to lead the innocent and unsuspecting awav from the paths of virtue and honor, and pa rents should especially impress upon the minds of their daughters that a woman's honor when once gone is goue foreyer. Let us explain to them the ways of the wicked w u o would rob them of that honor which woman holds most dear and sacred, and not rest sat- tied with the thought that "my daugh* ter will not fall." You dare not think that your daughter cannot be led away from the right, or that she is invuluer* able, for how many daughters, with just as good and pure mothers as you, have fallen victims to the wicked and lustful designs of men. Mothers, we have it in our power to arrest this growing evil—that which is robbing us of our pure and unsuspecting women. Let us make up our minds to have nothing whatever to do with any one who even speaks disrespectful of wo mau, and let us ostraciso him who would attempt her ruin. Let us teach our daughters thus, and also teach our sons to properly respect and honor wo man, and we shall have the satisfac tion of seeing a better and purer com munity and an honorable and noble class of women. Bread Oast Upon the Water. About a month ago an old New Yorker dropped his luggage before the clerk's desk in an Old Point Comfort hotel and dashed off his autograph in a free and easy hand, 'John McKess on, New York city. Day after day passed and the visitor seemed to be enjoying Virginia with a great deal of zest When he finally made up his mind to move homeward he tripped once more to the clerk's desk, this time to ask for his bill. 'McKesson 1 McKesson!' ejaculated the clerk, 'there's no bill here for any Mr. Mc- Kesson.' 'No bill ? why, what are you talking about Do you know how long I've been here, Mr. Clerk ?' 'Yes, sir, I do know, but I have or ders from headquarters to take none of your money—not a cent.' Now comes on the scene a genial hotel proprietor to beam upon the astonished old Knickerbocker and grasp him by the hand after an enthusiastic fashion. 'You're the same old John McKesson I knew thirty years ago,' ejaculated the hotel man. 'Don't remember me eh? Well,let me recall a little incident which happened when I was strug gling along in the world years and years back. You belonged to one of the leading wholesale drug firms in Maiden Lane, and I was the driver of an express wagon. One day I had to unload some packages going from your store to some Western town. My horses were scared just as I was handling the goods and one package was dumped to the ground and brok en. At headquarters I was told that I'd have to make good the loss, a lit tle matter of S2O or so, which meant a great deal to me. With a sore heart I went down to your store the next day to atk what was the lowest figure at which I could settle, and you,with out a moment's hesitation, told me that I need not pay one cent.that you could stand the loss better than I could, and that must be the end of it. But it isn't the end of it, all the same, for lam making a round SIOO a day down here now, though if I wasn't making a cent I'm dashed if I'd let you pay for anything under my roof, if you staid here the whole year through.' Couldn't Make it Out. The proprietor of a tannery having erected a building on the main street for the sale of his leather, the purchase of hides, etc.. began to consider what kind of a sign would be most attrac tive. At last what he thought a happy idea struck him. He bored an augur hole through the door-post and stuck a calf's tail into it, with the bushy end flaunting out. After a while he no ticed a grave-looking person standing near the door, with spectacles on, gaz ing intently at the sign. So long did he gaze that finally the tanner stepped out and addressed the individual : "Good morniDg I" "Morning," replied the man, with out moying his eyes from the sign. "You want to buy leather ?" "No." "Want to sell hides ?"—"No." "Are you a farmer ?"—"No" "Are sou a merchant ?"—"No." "Lawyer "No." "Doctor ?"—"No." "Minister ?"—"No." "What in the deuce are yon V'— "I'm a philosopher. I'vebeeu stand ing here hair an hour trying to decide how that calf got through that augur hole, and for the life of me, I can't make it out 1" —ln Henry & Johnson's Arnica and Oil Liniment is combined the curative properties of the different oils, with the healing qualities of Arnica. Good for man and animal. Every bottle guaran teed. Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance. THREE BLACK CROWS. The Old Story's Appearance CJnder a New Guise. The Tall White-Haired Man With Earnest Upturned Face—The Swelling 1 Orowd and the Materialization of a Terrible Calamity. [Fuck.] A tall man, with long white hair, which half hid his coat-collar, stood in front of one of the large buildings on lower Broadway at noon the other day. llis face was upturned, and he appear ed to be gazing earnestly at the roof of the structure. In a few minutes be was joined by another man, and in a few minutes more another, an then an other, until a score of men were gather ed together on the pavement, looking at the upper stories of the tall struct ure. As the crowd began to swell,busy brokers stopped to look,messenger boys flocked to the spot from all directions, merchants, clerks, peddlers and idlers stopped in their journey and gazed at the building as if they expected some frightful catastrophe to occur. The throng soon grew too large for the pave meut, and the gutter and a part of the street were speedily occupied by sever al hundred elbowing, jostliug,impatient and curious sight-seers. 4 1 wonder if the wall's a-going to fall ?' observed a speculative spectator on the outskirts of the throng. 4 They say the wall is going to fall,' repeated the maD next to him. 'Look out, the building is'going to tumble I' shouted the next. 4 Don't crowd so 1' yelled a man in the center, 4 the wall is going to fall.' 4 Look out! look out I' shrieked a doz en others, and the men pressed back ward on each other's toes until there was space euough on the pavement to let a regiment march through. 4 1 wonder whether it's on lire,' ob served another spectator. •It's on fire !' shouted another. 'See the smoke !' yelled a third. 4 Fire ! fire I' howled a score of other voices, and the crowd surged back to the pavement as flies gather on a lump of sugar in summer time. 4 I hope there are no women or chil dren in the building,' remarked a char itably inclined citizen. 4 There are women and children iu the building getting burned up!' shouted another. 4 Three women getting burned up I' yelled another. 4 Open the window and rescue them,' piped a little man who was obserying the building from under a tall man's coat-tails. 'Bring a ladder!' yel'ed a sensible man. 'Ladder I ladder! fetch a ladder,' howled a dozen others, and a number of boys were dispatched in various direc tions for these useful articles. 'Why doseu't some one turn on the fire-alarm ?' suggested another man. 'Turn on the alarm 1' took up the crowd. 'Call the fire department!' and several men started simultaneously for the fire-alarm house. 'Fifty dollars to the mau who saves their lives I' yelled a tall man with a western air and a wide primed hat. 'Break open the doors and go up stairs !' howled an enthusiastic man,as he edged away from the crowd in the opposite direction from the building. 'have their lives 1' yelled another, as he made a break through the crowd for the stone steps, followed by a half-hun dred other men. 'Call the police !' said another.man. 'Police I police ! police 1 shouted the crowd. 'Some one will go through the build ing and rob the offices !' said another one on the outskirts. 'Robbers 1 Robbers ! Police I Police 1 Fire I Fire ! Save the women ! Bring a ladder ! Burst in the front door I' howled the crowd. 'What's der row ?' growled a police man on the opposite corner, as he ob served the crowd. •Some one's getting killed,' replied an imaginatiye but innacurate long rage spectator. 'l'll rap for help,' said the guardian of the peace, graciously. 'What's der matter ?' cried another patrolman, as he came panting around the corner. 'Terrible fight over there,' replied the first; 'two men being murdered.' More raps. More policemen. Fire-engines heard coming in thejdis tance. 'Let's clear the crowd,' said a police man. 'Fire I Murder !' Police!' shouted the crowd. 'Clear the way,' howled the officers. 'Whack, thump,bang I' remarked the policemen's clubs as the sturdy officers reached the edge of the crowd. 'Here comes the police! Clear the way ! Quit hitting me ! Ouch ! Stop crowding me !' shouted the spectators, as they made way for the policemen and dodged the fast gathering engines. 'What's the matter V cried an officer, as he rushed into the building. 'Nothing,' replied the janitor. 'What is the row in the street ?' no. 21. JNBWEPAPER LAWS If subscribers order the discontinuation of newspapers, the puolishers may continue to send i hem until all arrearapes are paid. If subacrliHns refuse or nepiect to take their newspapers from the office to which they are sent Uiey are held responsible until they have settled the bills ai d ordered them discontinued. I r subscribers move toother places without in forminir the publisher, and the newspaper ire sent to the former place, they are responsible. ADVERTISING RATBB. 1 wk. 1 mo. I S mos. G num. 1 yea 1 square $2 00 $4 00 15 00 S6OO SBOO % " 700 10 00 15 00 30 00 40 00 1 " 1000 15001 tSOO 46 00 76 00 One inch makes a square. Administrators and Executors' Notices $-2.50. Transient adver tisements and locals 10 cents per line for first insertion and 5 cents per line for each additlou aUnsertion - ' , ' H J • , * 4 * ' What's the row out here ?' inquired another officer of one of the spectators in the crowd. 'Notliing is the matter here,' replied that individual. 'lt's in the building.' 'Where's the firo ?' shouted the fiie marshal. 'No fire here,' said the policeman. 'What's the ;figbt about V' inquired the police sergeant, who appeared on the scene at the head of the reserve force. 'No fig£t,' replied the officer. 1 Where's the dead man ?' asked the ambulance-driver, as he stopped his panting horses in front of the building. 'No dead mau here,' said the officer. 'Well,' ejaculated the sergeant. •Well!' shouted the policeman, fire marshal, janitor and spectators. In the thick of the crowd stood the man with the white hair, his eyes still fixed immovably on the building. 'say, old roan !' said the sergeant, as he grasped his arm, 'what in thunder are you looking at V The old man 'slowly turned around, A his hat outstretched in his hand, playing on his breast a Jarge placard which read : l'lease Help the Blind. Three hours later the old man faced the bar of justice in the tombs. 'Charge ?' observed the court. 'Begging on the street, blockading the pavement, creating a disturbance,' replied the police sergeant. 'Six mouths,' replied the court. 'Call the next case.' Business is Business. Young Billkins was utterly devoted to business,but somehow found time to fall in love and ask the girl to marry him. The time was set, and he called on the old gentleman to get his consent. He had a long talk, and that evening came up to see the girl. 'Well,' she said, lu considerable anx iety, 'Whatdid pa say ?' 'He said that wheat was going up, and there was a fine chance for a man to make a handsome little dot.' 'Pshaw ! Didn't he say anything else V 'Oh, yes, we talked about a dozen ventures that mlffe be made, with an excellent chauce of coming out ahead every time.' 'Bother the business 1 What did he say when you asked him if you could have me V 'Wha— wha—what ?' he stammered. 'Why, what did he say about me V •By George, Mary, I forgot all about it* I'll sro the first thing in the morn ing and see him about it.'— Merchant Traveler. Horse Stables. The condition and health of a horse depends very much upon the kind of stable it is kept iu. There are horses which suffer from disease of the eyes, from coughs, from scratches and other skin diseases, all of which are produced by the pungent foil air -in the stables. Farmers and others who have horses, will take pains to keep their carriages and harness protected from the strong ammoniatal air of the stables least the leather may be rotted or the yarnish dulled and spotted ; and at the same time they will wonder why their horses cough, or have weak eyes or moon blindness, or suffer from other diaeae.es, which, if they would only think for a few minutes, they would readily per ceive are due to the foul air the animals are compelled to breath every night in the year while confined in close, badly ventilated stables. The remedy is very easy. The stable should bo kept clean; this will prevent the greater part of the mischief; and it shouid be well venti lated. The floor should be properly drained, so that the liquid will not re main on it, to be absorbed, and decom pose, and produce the, pungent vapors of amonia,which are so injurious to the eyes, nostrils, throat and lungs, an