The Millheim Journal,
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i\. tl. mnftisJJtA-
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MILLIIBIM, PA.
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MILLHEIM, PA.
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Office opposite the Methodist Church.
MAIN STRBKT, MILLHEIM PA.
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Having had many years' 1 of experiencee
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Shop 2 doors west Millheim Banking House
'MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, PA.
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Millheim, Pa.
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BELLEFONTE, PA.,
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Attorneis-at-Law,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
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BELLEFONTE, PA.
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BELLEFONTE, PA.
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Attorneys-at-Law,
BELLEFONTE, PA. .
Office on Alleghany Street. North of High Street
HOUSE,
ALLEGHENY ST., BELLEFONTE, PA.
C, G. McMILLEN,
PROPRIETOR.
Good Sample Room on First Floor. Free
Buss to and from all trains. Special rates to
witnesses and jurors-
QUMMINS HOUSE,
BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA.,
EMANUEL BROWN,
PROPRIETOR
House newly reatted and refurnished. Ev
erything done to make guests comfortable.
Rates moderaf* tronage respectfully solici
ted "J
JRVIN HOUSE,
(Most Central Hotel in the city.)
•CORNER OF MAIN AND JAY STREETS
LOCK HAYEN, PA.
S.WOODSCALDWELL
PROPRIETOR.
Good sameple rooms for commercial Travel
•ers.on first floor.
R. A. BUMILLER, Editor.
VOL. 60.
il U\N K rr^CK
'lf there ain't them hens again,' said
Elias Long, setti :R down the milk pail
on the kitchen porch with a jeik The
stout, pleasant faced woman to whom
he spoke paused in the doorway with
her bare arms twisted into her calico
apron, and regarded Uio offenders mild
ly.
They were straggling through one of
the numerous gaps in the broken-down
fence which separated Mr. Long's gar
den from that of his neighbor, Alvia
Taleott—a procession of nine, clucking
iti a croouing way and stepping high.
They came on with composed delibera
tion, pausing among the cucumbers
with a contemplative air, skirting the
radishes after a dissatisfied survey, and
settling down at last among the toma
toes with a chorus of victorious clucks.
'lt ain't going to do,' said Mr.Long,
wiping a disturbed face with his old
red silk handkerchief. 'I ain't going
to stand it.'
'lt ain't likely he's thought of it,'
said his wite, tranquilly.
'He can't think of nothing but that
pesky crochet business,' rejoined Mr.
Long, jerking his head toward his
neighbor's yard, from which the sound
of voices and the click of mallets pro
ceeded. 'I ain't going to stand still
and get ate out of house and home by
nobody's hens, if you be.'
'Oh, laws. Elias !' Mrs. Long began,
in easy remonstrance; but her husband
bad seized an old tin dipper from the
porch-shelf, aud was making for the
;omato-patch as fast as his sixty years
would permit. There was a wild cack
ling and scattering as he threw his dip
per into the midst of the scratching
flock, pursued them unrelentingly to
the furthest possible point, and leaned
exhaustedly against the sunken gate of
the delapidatod fence. It was sunken
with the weight of the many Triendly
chats held across it since the long-ago
period of its erection; 3hats held at all
times of day and upon all subjects—
politics, mowing machines, fertilizers,
sewiug societies, crochet patterns,
raised cake receipts, etc.
Mr. Talcott's crochet ground was be
fore him. Mr. Taleott himself stood
near, leauing the weight of his small
and wiry person on his mallet ; his bat
over one ear, his cheerful, round face
shining with eagerness, his whole atti
tude expressive of watchful and pro
found absorption.
His eyes weie fixed upon Fie long
figure of Bart Collicut, Hie champion
crochet-player of the town, who stood
at the other end of the ground in the
act of striking. Old Dr. Blair, upon
whose ball he was preparing to operate,
regarded him seriously from his retire
ment on the well-stone ; little Mr. Mc-
Quirk, who had stepped across from
his grocery to takß a fourth hand, and
who was keeping ar eye on that edifice,
fidged about in nervous apprehension
aud dangerous proximity to the up
raised mallet.
Mr. Long surveyed Ihe scene with
displeasure. He had,originally,strong-
ly disapproved of Mr. Talcott'a crochet
ground. He had not been sure that
crochet was not on a level with'keerds'
and gambling; and that a deacon of the
church and a member of the town
council should countenance and en
courage such iniquity was a subject for
grave reflection.
From" this—after frequent glimpses
and occasional considerations of the
game, over th 9 fence—he had softened
to the opinion that it was a waste of
time and a pack of foolishness ; falling
gradually into the habit, despite his
convictions, of observing it regularly
graduating from the fence to Mr. Tul
cotl'a dooistep, and thus acquiring a
tolerable knowledge cf its baleful
methods. He bad even been known to
manifest an interest in the game, to
tender advice in a crisis, to give his
opinion upon a disputed point, to join
in applause of a good stroke. Bui he
had always considered that his pres
ence was something of a reproof and
restraint. Just now, as he stood frown
ing down the long bewicketed ground,
nothing could have convinced him that
he bad ever retreated in the least from
his primal attitude of rigorous disap
proval.
'I declaie for it !' said Mr. Talcott,
exultingly, as the doctor's ball came
bowling into the corner; 'we're getting
right along 1 Come in,' he went 011
affably, turning to Mr. Long. 'lt looks
as though we'd fix 'em this time, eh ?'
Mr. Long shifted his position.
'You'll have to keep them hens of
yourn to home,' he said. 'They're
spoiling my garden jest about as fast
as they can manage it.'
Mr. Talcott's smiling face hardened.
It was not the first time his neighbor
bad mentioned the hens ; though never
hitherto with so much decision.
'I don't really kuow as it's any of
my concern,' be said ; *you can't jest
expect lor me to be chasing hens eyer
lastingly.'
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 25., 1886.
'I do :iT kn nv but what you'd better
be chasing bens thou wasting time over
this lu re,' responded bis neighbor, sur
veying the crochet-ground with stern
ness in his long-featured face.
Mr. Talcotl's small, bright eyes snap
ped.
'You hain't no call, s I know of, to
give no opinion whatsoever.' he retort
ed.
Mr. Long turned his eyes uprm h's
irate countenance. Ho was slower to
anger than his neighbor. 'About them
bens,' lie said ; *1 rather guess this line
fence better be fixed up; needs it. They
couldn't get in then unless they should
go round by the orehaid, and that
ain't likely.'
'I haiu't been calculating to lay out
anything on fences jest at present,'said
Mr. Taleott, bracing himself ou his
short legs defiantly.
'The laws allows,' rejoined his neigh
bor, •that a man's obliged to pay half
toward fixing up a fence that's been
complained of.'
'I hadu't been calculating to lay out
uo money on fences,' Mr. Taleott re
peated, bis voice rising to a high pitch.
Mr. Long's thin face grew grim.
'I dou't know as I eyer heard that
the law makes exceptions of peoplo
that are a little clus,' he observed.
Mr. Taleott gasped. His hard,round
cheeks were red with resentment ; his
sharp eyes bhtztd.
'Your strike, Taleott,* said Mr. Mc-
Quirk, shortly ; he had spent several
moments in aiming for the middle
wicket, and had failed to go through.
'You better jest think ovr about
this fence,' said Mr. Long, as be turn
ed stiffly away.
Mrs. Taleott had come out of the
house with a little bowl in her hands ;
a thin woman, with pleasing remains
of sandy-haired pretliness.
'I want you to take in some of my
rising to Hannah,' she said. They had
kuowti each other by their first names
CM TULJR y-'" -,
When Mrs. Long opened the kitchen
door at 0 o'clock tiie next morning, and
stood looking out at the early August
day in the moment before the fried
pork had sizzled it self quite brown, and
the ctiffee come to a boil—her faculties
concentrated themselves upon an unex
pected circuuistauce just beneath her
eyes.
'Eliis,'she said, 'he's tearing down*
the line fence. He's got Job Dwyer
helping him.' She was devoid of sus
picions concerning the fact ; her voice
ws merely inquiring.
Mr. Long cirae to the door rather
slowly. He stood there rubbing his
chin doubtfully ; and then went down
the steps and toward his neighbor's
yard.
Mr. Taleott was working energetical
ly.. A pile of worm-eaten posts, pulled
up by the roots, and broken pickets,lay
before him. A little further down Job
Dwyer was amassing a similar heap.
Mr. Taleott appeared unaware of his
neighbor's presence. lie snapped off
another picket without speaking. He
wore a forbidding look which set
strangely on his ordinarily good-humor
ed face.
'I thought likely you'd think better
of it,' Mr. Long observed, with his
eyes fixed warily on the other. 'This
fence has been wanting fixing for quite
a spell. I don't know as it's worth
while teai ing it down; i tboughtmehbe
a little fixing up'd do it. But I'm will
ing to do my share, if you be calculat
ing to build a new one.' After an un -
responsive pause : 'You'recalculating
to build a new one, 1 s'pose 1'
'Yes. I be,' Mr. Taleott rejoined,
with acrimonious promptness. 'Jest
fetch up that crowbar, Job. This post
seems to atook root.'
Something in his voice shook his
neighbor's composure. But he carried
off nis discomfiture creditably.
'Well,' he said, 'it'll he a good thing.
I s'pose it ought to have been done be
fore.' lie pulled a grass and chewed
it undauntedly for two or three min
utes before he went into the house.
'Well V said his wife, as she set the
disli of pork on the table.
'He's set out to build a new line
fence,'said Mr. Long, taking his seat
and shoving bis knife up and down be
tween the tines of bis fork.
His wife turned to look at him. Her
sharp intuitiou rooted out the dark
side of the statement.
'You hain't had words with him,
Elias ?'she said, a quick alarm in her
pleasant face. 'Now, you didn't have
no trouble with him yesterday about
them hens ?'
'I told him,' said Mr. Lonpreaching
for the coffee pot, 'his hens had been
making tol'able free in my garden, and
the fence had better be fixed up. If
he's a mind to flare up like a fool, I
don't know as it's any of my concern.'
He took a swallow from his cup. Ilis
wife watched him wistfully. She look
ed dazed.
'You hain't ever had no trouble with
him before,' she said. She did not eat
any breakfast.
A PAPER FOR TIIE HOME CIRCLE.
Mr. Talcott and .Job U*yer worked
fast. By night the old fence hid been
demolished and carted into the wood
house, and new board* stood letning
against the well stone. By noon the
next day the posts and scantlings wVne
up and a yard of fence done.
Mrs. Long got up from the dinner
table to look at it, and turning a blank
face upon her husband.
'Elias,' she said, 'he's got it moro'n
two yards high.'
Mr. Long stared at her. Then he
recovered himself.
'lt don't make no sort of difference
to me how high he's got it,'he snapped.
'1 don't know what to make of it,'
she said, coming back to the table,anx
iously. '1 don't know why a lutla low
picket like the old one wouldn't done
jest as well. You can look right
through it jest as well as though there
wasn't nothing there; and it was handy
to hand things across.'
She went about the house that day
with an uneasy apprehension in her
face.
'I don't know what to make of it,'
she kept on thinking, in a troubled
way.
She knew by the next night. The
new line fence wasdone. It was seven
feet high. There wae nothing to be
seeu across it except the upper half of
Mr. Talcott's house, the tops of the
trees and the bam roof It rose tall
and stern and forbidding. And there
was no gate. It was a hostile, uncom
promising barrier. It was an effective
monument to Mr. Talcott's wrath and
resentment.
The summer passed on into the fall,
and the fall became raw and windy,
and eventually snowy.
Mr. Talcott aud Mr. Long did not
speak to each other when they met in
street or the postoflico or the black
smith shop ; they passed each other
grimly. When Mr. Talcott was ap
pviinted to the school board, of which
Mr. Long was already a member. he
sent iu a resignation. When Mr.Long
was put on a church committee of
which Mr. Talcott was one, he refused
to act.
it became rapidly known that the
two old neighbors were 'not on speak
ing terms;' aud the c.uses aud oircura
stancea of the rupture were not a mjs
tery. Feople came on varying pretexts
to lovik at the fence, from one side or
the other, and hear the story in detail.
Often they went thence oyer to the
other side, aud listened with interest
to the complimental version. The
whole affair, perhaps, was welcomed as
a break in the monotony of the general
amicableness.
It was j'kuown, too, that Mrs. Long
aud Mrs Talcott were not active par
ticipants iu the quarrel. Their old
pleasant companioushipseemed virtual
ly ended ; their backyard intercourse
was necessarily cut off, and they had
ceased to run in of an evening. But
this was because neither tell 'free to
enter her neighbor's house,' as matters
stood; and because, in their timid wo
manly subuiissiveness, t hey obeyed the
unspoken commands of their husbands
rather than face the displeasure which
would have followed a defiance of tliem.
They smiled when they met each oth
er ; they lingered in the church, vesti
bule to exchange good-morning. Once
Mrs. Long sent in a dish of fresh fried
cakes by a neighbor's boy. He told
her ,that Mrs. Taicott had burst out
crying. She had emptied the dish and
sent it back full of p.pp'e sauce.
The autumn days filled the air with
the dim blue vapor and not unpleasant
odor of bonfire smoke. Mr. Talcott
was late with his. He had put it off
till his fall clearing was done—the gar
den freed of the dried and empty bean
vines, and raked off ; the weeds pulled
up which had flourished powerless for
harm during the last month or two,
and which now stood black and frozen;
a few dead bushes cut down, and the
fruit trees trimmed here and there. It
was late in November when the pile
lay ready, low down in the garden in a
comer of the plundered potato patch.
In some of its rough hollows lay the
remains of a thin snow.
Mr. Talcott lighted it directly after
supper. Now and then lie replenished
it; at 8 o'clock it was still burning, lie
sat down on an old stump to look at it
as it leaped and flickered itself out,
lighted up a broad space around it and
shining on the high fence. His wife
had come out with a shawl over her
head and watched it a few minutes,
and gone in.
A spark from the subsiding fire snap
ped into a little pile of dried stalus half
a rod distant, and they flamed up. A
twig took lite from them and burned to
its end, and a loose splinter blazed in
its turn. He watched the curious lit
tle line of light as it ate its flickering
way along. There was a small deposit
of dead leaves diifted up against the
tall fence ; they took the alarm, and
glowed and crackled smartly. And
then the flames mounted up, and grew
broader and redder—the fence had
caught fire.
Mr. Talcott got up and walked ovr
to it. Then he turned, with scarcely
the haste which might, have been look
ed for, and started for the pump. lie
seemed rather to linger on the way ;
when he reached it, he stood for a mo
ment without doing anything particu
lar before he tilled a wooden pall,which
lay near, and went back with it. The
fence was tlaming brightly ; but he
stopped to pick out a chip which bad
got stuck into the sole of ins boot, and
tied t lie old woolen muffl-r be wore a
round his neck with hands which were
not quite steady. Then he peered all
about him, in an oddly guilty way,
emptied his pail of water on the
ground, and went and sat down on the
stump again. He looked cold and
anything but heroic ; but there was a
new found warmth within him.
There was quite a crowd about the
place half an hour later, looking at the
blackened remains of the line fence
several men, attracted by the flames,
and a few women hastily wrapped up.
Mr. Talcott had a good deal to say
about the way it happened. He said a
hot.fire was a plagued thing—you nev
er knew what it was going to do ; you
couldn't feel safe with one if you didu't
watch it every minute. He dwelt on
the ineflicacy of water when once a fire
bad got started, and pointed to the
empty pail, where it lay on the ground,
in conclusive proof of the point.
Mr. Long had come out and watched
the conflagration from a discreet dis
tance. But he had drawn gradually
closer, till he finally stood poking
over the warm cinders with one foot.
Mr. Talcott stood near by. They did
not look at each other for a moment.
Then the latter spoke, in a voice made
high and sharp by the greatness of the
effort.
'SVent down jest like paper.' ha said.
4 I guess there couldn't anybody a-stop
ped it. I couldn't do anything against
it—nothing at ail !' He felt that he
TBgatned by this some of the dignity he
had lost in his own conception;he look
ed relieved.
His neighbor d'd not reply directly.
The darkness hid his softened perturb
ed expression, and he was not the per
son to make it manifest. Ilis tone,
when lie spoke, was composed and even
condescending.
'According to law,' he said, I s'pose
I'm called on to put up the next one. I
s'pose I might do it any time ; 1 aiu't
so terrible busy jest at present.'
'Well,' said Mr. Talcott, looking
dowif the garden. 'I ruther guess you
had better build a picket. I guess a
picket will da full as weil. You haiu't
heard how old L.ui Pearsou is, have
you ?'
He Hadn't Been at Gettysburg.
'Xo, I didn't lose that 'leg in the
war,' replied a stranger yesterday, as
lie leaned up against a cold wall of the
postoffice. 'I used to claim that my
leg was shot off at the battle of Antie
tam, but one day something happened
to cure me of lying. I was stumping
along the highway in Ohio, and stop
ped at a farm house to beg for dinner.
'Where did you lose that leg V asked
the woman.
' 'At Gettysburg.'
•Sit down till 1 call my husband.
'lie came in from the barn,and I was
asked where my regiment was sta
tioned in the battle.
•In the cemetery,' I replied.
' 'Oli ! Well, my son Bill was in the
cemetery, too. I'll call him in.'
'Bill soon came in, and he wanted to
know what particular gravestone I took
shelter behind. I said it was a Scotch
granite monument.
"Oli I* grunted Bill. 'My brother
Bob was behind just such a stone, and
I'll call him in.'
'Bob came in, and he swore a mighty
oath that lie was there alone.- He sort
o' pre-empted that monument, and re
membered the inscription to a word.
However, to give me the benefit of a
doubt, I was asked to name my compa
ny and regiment.
' 'Company B, Fifth Ohio,' I prompt
ly answered.
'Oh ! Brother Jim was in that com
panv. I'll call him in.'
'Jim came in, took a square look at
me, and remarked :
' 'Stranger, our regiment wasn't
within 200 miles of Gettysburg during
the war 1'
'I said Twenty-fifth 1 Of course the
Fifth wasn't there.'
• 'Oh ! I'll call in my brother Aaron.
He was in the Twenty-fifth.'
'Aaron came in, called me a wooden
legged liar, and I was pitched over the
fence into the road. They've got this
war business down so tine that you
can't go around playing roots on the
country no more, and the best way is
to own right up that you got druuk
and got in tiie way of a locooiotiye.'
M. Quad.
With money, come poor relations ;
with property, taxes ; with the winter,
pneumonia, and with the summer,
cholera and base ball.
Terms, SIOO per Year, in Advance.
PLUNDERING A SAFE.
A Sloop- \\ alkinar Merchant Caught
in His Own Trap.
I was a clerk to Mr. Parkman—con
fidential clerk—and knew as uiucli of
the business as liu did. fie was au old
bachelor, and lived in the rooms over
the counting-house. 11 is servant was a
fellow about 40 years old, a native of
Africa, and so black that ebony was
nothing to him. I never liked him,
but Mr. Parkman thought him a treas
ure. ills name was Seiplo. lie al
ways dressed in white, too, winter or
summer. I don't really think that my
dislike began until the day Mr. Park
man missed the first money from the
safe. That was iu winter, about the
end of December. I had locked the
money up the night before, in Mr.
Park man's "presence. It was a pay
ment made just as we were about to
close—not a great sum, only a hundred
dollars. Only Mr. Parkman and I
knew the combinations of the lock.
It et when I came in the morning it was
gone.
I confess that my mind flew at once
to Scipio. I yentured to hint this to
Mr. Parkman but I thought he would
have knocked me down for the sugges
tion.
'Scipio would die for me,' he said.
'I should be more apt to suspect that
fly-away young Robinson of ours.'
Robinson was a young fellow of
twenty-six, Mr. Parkman was about
fifiy. lie had taken Robinson into his
employment on the recommendation of
the silent partner of the firm, Mr.
(Jakes. He would have* been glad of
some decent excuse to be rid of him,
but the young man did his duty so well
that no one could find fault with him
and was so polite that he could not be
quarreled with.
Miss Merivale couldn't help liking
him best, I should thiuk, and both
wanted her. Fathers generally go with
the money-bag ; but, naturally enough,
Mr. Parkmau disliked Robiusou very
much. When a man has such a reason
for disliking another he's not likely to
show it openly. lie tried to hide it;
but I saw it plainly.
Six months after fifty dollars went
in the same mysterious manner. A
little while more a much larger sum,
and, at last, one night, a great package
of bonds, worth twenty thousand dol
lars. Mr. Park man had set detectiyes
on the watch before. lie did it again ;
but they could discover nothing. They
decided that Scipio was as ignorant of
the proper means of opening the safe as
a monkey. I made up my mind that
he knew ell about it, but though X tried
to catch him he baffled me. Mr. Park
man swore he would find the raicai if
be were above ground, and abused the
detectives for their stupidity. At last,
on day, he called me into his private
otiice, and opening a square box, show
ing me something that puzzled me.
'lt's a thief trap,' said Mr. Parkman.
'Let the thief get his hand into this
and he'll never get it Icose again with
out help. It will spoil his beauty too,
I fancy.'
Then he locked the horrible box
again, and told me that he should put
it in the safe that night.
'Remember,'said he,'not a word to
anyone.'
I slept soundly until about one o'-
clock in the morning, when I was a
wakened by a terrible explosion.
I started to my feet in an instant,
but at first I could not remember where
I was. Wheu I did, however, I guess
ed at once that the souud I heard came
from the office where the safe stood,
and that the thief had been caught at
last in the infernal machine. I hurried
on my clothes, rushed to Mr. Paik
man's room and found his bed empty,
and, expecting I .know not what hor
ror, made my way to the office.
A man had been caught in the trap,
but it was not Scipio. The poor fellow
howling and wringing his hands, stood
staring oyer my shoulder. The man at
the safe was dressed in his night
clothes. He had sunk down upon his
knees, and blood was streaming oyer
his body. A moment more and I bent
over him, aud saw Mr. Parkman him:
self. He was not mortally wounded,
and the first words he said to me as he
came to were these :
'Hubble, dun't tell any one what a
fool I've been. I used to walk iu my
sleep when a boy. I forgot that. I
must have taken to it again.'
All the missing money, as well as the
bonds, were found in an old hair trunk
in an attic. Mr. Parkman said he was
thinking about that trunk when he felt
his hand gripped and heard the explo
sion, as he had felt and heard things in
dreams ; and when he recovered, which
was not for many months, Robinson
aud Miss Merivale were married. I
must say Mr. Parkman came out bright
just then. I was proud of him. He
sent the young pair a set of silver with
his compliments.
To keep insects out of bird cages,
tie up a little sulphur in a bag and
suspend it in the cage. Red ants
will neyer be found in closets or
drawer if a small bag of sulphur be
kept constantly in these places.
NO. 8-
NEWSPAPER LAWS
If subscribers order the discontinuation of
newspapers, the tmnllshers may continue to
send ihem until all arrears pes are paid.
If subscribers refnrie or neglect Is take their
newspapers from the oflk* to which they are sent
they are held responsible until they hare settled
the bills and ordered them discontinued.
If subscribers move toother places wlthoutln
forming the publisher, and the newspapers art
sent to the former place, Uiej areresponslhle.
ADVERTISING RATES.
1 wk. 1 mo. 3 Hlos, 6 mos. 1 yea
1 square *2W ft 00 #SOO ♦ > #*(*
E " 700 10 00 15 00 .10 00 40 0
1 10 00 15 00 25 00 45 00 75 00
One inch makes a square. Adm In (stratum
and Executors' Notices *.',50. Transient adver
tisements and looals 10 cents tier line for first
insertion and 5 cents per Hue rot- each addition
al insertion
Housewife's Scrap Book.
Stains on cups and saucers may be
removed by rubbing with ashes.
If the oven is too hot when baking
place a small dish of cold water in it.
When sponge cake becomes dry it
is nice to cut in thin slices and toast.
To remove mildew, soak in butter
milk and spread on the grass in the
sun.
To prevent mustard plaster from
blistering, mix it with the white of an
egg.
Never put lalt into soup when
cooking till it has been thoroughly
skimmed, as salt prevents the skum
from rising.
When the burners of lamps become
clogged with char, put tbem in a
strong soap suds and boil awhile to
clean them.
Boiled starch can be touch improv
ed by the addition of a little sperm or
a little salt, or poth, or a little dissol
ved gum artibic.
To brighten the inside of a coffee or
tea pot, fill with water, add a small
piece of soap, and let it boil about for
ty-five nunutes.
If matting, counterpanes, or bed
spreads have oil spots on them, wet
with alcohol, rub with bard soap, and
then rinse with clear, cold water.
It is said that canned berries retain
their flavor, and keep better, when a
buttered cloth is laid over the top of
the jar before screwing down the cov
er.
Nurses in a sick room shouid not
, sit or stand too near the patient, and
above all things they should avoid
talking when leaning over a sick per
son.
A liquid black lead for polishing
stoves is made by adding to each
pound of black lead one gill o'f turpen
tine, one gill of water, and an oance
of sugar.
A Horse Trade.
G. W. Bulger is one of the best horse
traders in Western Texas. Not long
since he offered for sale a large bay
horse to Colonel Witherspoon, who
thinks he knows all that is to be known
about a horse. Colonel Wit he rape on
bought the horse at a very low price.
Gilhooly, who happened to be preseut
when the trade was made, took the
purchaser aside and said to him :
'Colonel Witherspoou, how did yon
come to let yourself be taken in on that
horse ? Don't you see that he is lame
in his left hind leg V'
Colonel Witherspoon winked and
whispered to Gilhooly.
'I am not fooled al)Tamea urt Tn tTiai
horse. I know he is lame, but his lame
ness comes from a nail in his hoof. I'll
just have that nail pulled out, and then
the horse will not limp and will bo
worth twice what I gave for him. It's
a big bargain and don't you give it a
way.'
Gilhooly whistled and remarked,
• Well, you are a shrewd one after all.'
'lt will be a cold day when I get left
on a horse trade,' replied Witherspoou,
as he led off his limping purchase.
Next day Gilhooly met G. W. Bulger.
'Bulger, you are not as smart at a
horse trade as 1 thought you were.
You let Witherspoon have that horse
for half what he is worth.'
'Are you sure of that ?'
'Certainly I am. That lameness
comes from a nail in the hoof. With
erspoon will pull the nail out, cure up
the sore place, and the horse will be
worth twice what he paid you.'
'I don't think so,' replied Bulger, 'I
know all about, that nail in the horse's
hoof. I droye it in myself.'
'You did ?*
'Yes, you see I wanted people to be
lieve that it was the nail that made him
limp, but lie was lame before. He will
keep on being lame after that nail is
out. He always will be lame. Do you
see now ?'
•Well, yes, I think I do. I'm glad
you told me. When I want to buy a
horse I know who not to buy from.'—
Texas Sif tings.
Perils of Lake Navigation.
Commander Bartlett, TJ. S. N., has
expressed his belief that at least half
the vessels lost last season on the
lakes might have been saved by the
judicious use of oil on the troubled
waters. But oil won't give a ship
sea-room or keep a sharp rock from
piercing a ship's bottom. The fact
is, a good many expedients that can
be worke'd to advantage in navigating
the high seas are quite impracticable
on the lakes an account of limited sea
room. It is said that there are more
vessels lost on the great lakes annual
ly than on any two oceans.— Boston
I Commercial Advertiser.