ee prea er eeeet
Demoraic Wap
Bellefonte, Pa., November 8, 1889.
THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER.
Pretty Kathleen, there she goes,
Tripping through the meadow,
With her eyes of bonny blue
Beaming half in shadow.
She is loved the country round
For Ler truth and sweetness ;
Even in her simple gown,
Pink of girlish neatness.
Cherry lips and cheeks of rose,
Hath this rural charmer;
Eldest of a loving brood,
Daughter of a farmer,
Glad and happy at her book,
She excels in learning ;
Yet she often takes her turn
At the weekly churning.
When she, on a Sunday morn,
Hears the church-bells ringing,
She must hasten on her way,
For she leads the singing.
As she nears the simple church,
Treble voices reach her
From a flock ef little ones—
Kathleen is their teacher.
After service, home she goes,
Modest sweet, and smiling ;
Speaking many kindly words,
Tender and beguiling.
She must break full many hearts ;
This, we know, would pain her;
For, of all who ask her hand,
Only one can gain her.
“TAKEN IN.”
Peter Buskirk was very fond of mon-
ey; not so fond that he quite starved
himself to keep it, or hid itup a chim-
ney, or refused himself fire, or lights,
or a pillow, but yet so very fond of it
as to be on the verge of miserhood with-
out quite having fallen over. Beggars
reaped no harvest from his purse or
kitchen, and match makers could make
no impression on his bachelor heart.
Peter Buskirk saw through the latter
ag well as the former, and buttoned up
his pockets as hastily in the presence
of bewitching crinoline as in that of a
seedy gentleman with a folded docu-
ment in his breast-pocket. The men
wanted to rob him, the women to mar-
ry him. The last was the worse. Not
that Peter hated the women; on the
contrary even at fifty he was remarka-
bly susceptible; a bright eye put him
in a flutter. But the fact was, women
as wives or daughters, were expensive.
They were proverbially extravagant.
Should he marry one. she would spend
his money while he lived, and squan-
der it after he was dead. And, with
this awful terror before him, Peter
steered clear of the shoals of matrimo-
ny.
“There was one inconvenience in this
bachelorhood, however. This was the
housekeeping; for it involved a servant
—some oneto make the beds,wash dish-
es, cook and iron. In short, the ser-
vant of all work was always the bane of
Peter's life—eating and drinking in a
manner which kept the master of the
house in a continual ferment; wasting
butter and fuel, and each change in the
kitchen incumbrance being followed
by the disappearance of towels and
napkins and such small ware. There
was no rest for poor Mr. Buskirk. He
tried Betty and Dinah and May and
Ann, and despair flew to a certain Mrs
Brown, the giver of tea parties innu-
merably, for advice.
“Servants are such
said.
“Eat you out of house and home,”
said Peter.
“Not to be relied on for honesty,”
said Mrs. Brown.
“Thieves, ma'am, thieves!” said Pe-
ter.
“Ah,” said Mrs. Brown, “a gentle
man has no time to watch them. Now
I should advise marrying, Mr. Bus-
kirk.”
“Marrying!”
“Yes, sir; a wife can manage such
things so much better. Besides, if you
choose a smart, capable wowan, she
will keep an eye on the servant. It
would be inuch more economical to
plagues,” she
marry.”
“Economical |” yelled Peter; “my
good lady! Eco—I—0, goodness!
Feathers and flowers, laces and silk
and rings,and—ice cream and things—
economical! How many yards do yon
take for a dress, ma'am ?”’
“Well, sir, twelve or fifteen—some-
times, when it's silk, you know, eigh-
teen.”
“Eighteen yards at five chillings or
so a yard, and not one dress, but twen-
ty. My good lady, it would be enough
to ruin a man.”
Mrs. Brown reflected.
“But if you could find an economi-
cal woman, Mr. Buskirk.”
“Ah! If I could find a mermaid.”
“One who never wasted a penny ?”
“She does not exist, ma'am.”
“Who lives on next to nothing. The
fact is, Mr. Buskirk, I have such a la-
dy in my eye. She's a widow—quite
a young one—DMrs. Barlow, and I'll
have her at Peach House next week.”
Peter grunted sarcastically.
“Economy in hoops and bonnets,”
he said to himself. “They want to
marry me and spend my money.”
And he went home wroth.
“However, economy forbade him to
refuse an invitation to dinner; and
when a week after Mrs. Brown sent
“her compliments,” ete., Mr. Buskirk
donned his Sunday suit and went over
to the Peach House at five precisely.
The parlor was full of ladies, ladies in
silks and muslins, with crinolines and
flounces. Most of them Mr. Buskirk
knew well, and he looked around in
vain for a stranger, Mrs. Brown's note
said :
“Mrs. Barlow will be with us.”
But which was the economical wid-
ow? Probably the lady in green silk
near the piano. He could not remem-
ber her face.
Suddenly Mr. Buskirk’s doubts were
set to rest. Mrs. Brown ejaculated :
“Dear me! Where is Cousin Bet-
sey? Mr. Buskirk, you must be in-
troduced to Mrs. Barlow,” and at these
words something small and flat emerg-
ed from between two portly dames and
stood before him. It was a very short
and slender little woman, with a remark-
kably pretty face. She wore no hoops,
and her dress cleared her ankles. The
sleeves were close, and the skirt had
perhaps three breadths in it. The dress
itself was of very plain merino, and she
wore neither brouche nor bow—only a
white linen collar. Peter looked ap-
proval. Several of the ladies exchang-
ed glances, a faint giggle was heard;
and, if by a common consent, the two
were left tete-a-tele in a corner.—
“Pleasant day,” said Peter, to com-
mence the conversation. ‘Pleasant
day, but cold.”
“Ah,ves, but I dislike cold weather,”
said the lady.
“Don’t agree with you, ma’am.”
“0, that's not it. I am never ill;
but cold is so expensive. Lights early
and coal dear,” proceeded the lady.
“Money slips through one’|fingers;and I
never waste things.” .
“My case exactly,” said Buskirk.
“It’s astonishing how things cost. Now
there is butter—say a pound a fort-
night.” :
“0, I never eat butter; it costs too
much,” said the lady.
“Ah! sugar and tea and coffee.”
“If you indulge in such luxuries,what
can you expect ?’’ said Mrs. Barlow.
“They are artificial wants, altogeth-
er, so they are,” said Mr. Buskirk.
“But then, habit is second nature.”
“Extravagant habits ruin many,”
said Mrs. Barlow. ‘Oh, T shudder
when I look at those flounces. Such a
waste of material.”
“I've often thought,” said Peter.
“And you don't wear them ?’
“I!” said Mrs. Barlow. “I have
my senses, sir. I've no wish to die in
a work-house. I've had this dress ten
years,”
“Indeed!” said Peter. “And I sup-
pose some ladies buy one every month.”
“Every ten days,” said Mrs. Barlow.
“0, I blush for my sex, Mr. Buskirk, I
do, indeed.”
Peter was charmed. He began to
think Mrs. Brown right. The cost of
such a wife would be a mere trifle, and
what an eye she would have to the ex-
pense of a household.
Ere the evening was over he had de-
cided it would be cheaper to marry than
to remain single, were Mrs. Ba low his
helpmate.
“She'd not be saving herself, but she
would check me in my little extrava-
gances,” said he. She would be in-
valuable to me. She wears one dress
ten years. The fates must have sent
her to this earth for my special benefit.”
So after due consideration, Peter re-
solved to court the economical widow,
and that lady being conveniently domi-
ciled at Mrs. Brown's he found every
opportunity.
s : ied
It was a very inexpensive courtship. {
He gave her no presents. She expect-
ed none. He took her nowhere save to
church, where neither of them ever
saw the plate, and both were happy.
And at last he proposed. She blush-
ed, and begged time to consider. At
last she said : “I'm afraid to say yes,
Mr. Buskirk. I love you but you are
so terribly extravagant. You drink tea
and coffee, and eat butter, and really I
should fear coming to want, I should
indeed.”
“I? Why, IT am the most economi-
eal soul living,” said Peter.
“Extravagant people always think
that,” said thelady. ‘No, I am afraid
to say yes, unless indeed you were to
make your property over to me, so that
I could be sure you would not ruin
yourself. Of course that is impossible,
and it would be such a care that really,
I could scarely desire it even from a
gentleman I so much respect.”
And the economical relict blushed
and hesitated.
It was Peter's turn to pause and con-
sider. He went away to do so, and re-
turning suddenly to his house, fou:.d
his serving maid selling dripping to a
man. He dismissed her at once and
rushed back to Widow Barlow's.
“My money, would be safer in your
hands than in mine,” he said with a
moan. “Marry me and keep me from
being ruined.”
What the widow’s answer was may
be judged from the fact that three
weeks from that date they were united,
the clergyman receiving five shillings
from Peter, and the bride wearing her
brown merino, in the pocket of which
she carefully deposited the deeds which
made the property exclusively her own.
“Now for happiness,” said Peter.
“No more thieving servants—no more
waste—and a lovely wife into the bar-
gain. He, he, he! Peter Buskirk is
the man for luck.”
And he took his bride home to dine
with him on cold meat aud radishes,
being absolutely ashamed even to speak
of his mutton chop before so economi-
cal a lady.
The next morning he hurried off to
business.
“Never waste time, love,” said the
newly married dame. “Besides I have
a great deal to attend to; so good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” responded Peter.
“What a treasure yon are, my dear.
My mother always washed on Mon-
day.”
And away he went content with him-
self, and all the world.
At six he returned. Horrors of hor-
rors! there were ladders against his
»
house, and men were on them. Had
there been a fire! He rushed up
breathless.
“What is che matter? Who are
these men? he panted. ‘Fire! thieves!
Ob! T must be dreaming.”
“Don’t make a noise, love,” zaid a
voice from the parlor window. “They
are only the house painters.”
“Yes, dear. Don’t you know the
Dutch proverb.
for itself ?"
“A coat of paint pays
zy,” cried Peter, “or am I dreaming?”
| tured bull is safe.
“But the awful expense!” he said. |
“Dear, you should have consulted me.” |
He stumbled into the house, and over
the form of a man kneeling in the hall. |
“Who are you ?”’ he asked.
In reply the person produced a card
ling service on a recent Sunday.
last hvmn had been, “Even me, even
on which was printed, “Guilt & Bin-:
der, Upholsters.”
“And what are you doing 7’
“Measuring the hall for a
cloth, sir,” said the man.
Peter staggered on.
new oil
“Mamma did Adam write that hymn 27
.A woman was making up a carpet
in the front parlor; another was arrang- !
ing curtains.
He rushed up stairs.
There sat another woman also at
work.
Again he gasped the question. “Who
are you?’
“Mrs. Buskirk’s regular seamstress, !
please, sir,” said the woman.
“Ard where is Mrs. Buskirk ?”
“Here love,’ said a voice.
And there entered from the adjoining
room, a lady dressed in silk, and in ex-
pensive crinoline, with bracelets,
brooch, ear rings and a little cap worth
a fortune,
“The furniture is ordered, and the
painters are here, and I've engaged all
the servants, Mr. Buskirk,” said the
the lady; “and cook wants to know
whether you like beef rare or well
done. In such things you shall have
your choice always. There was no
time to make a pudding to-day, so we
must have ices. Strawberries, too, are
only two shillings a basket.
“Mrs. Buskirk, have you gone cra-
“I'm wide awake, at all events,”
cried the lady. “I've starved long
enough, and worn that brown merino
until I hate it. I always was fond of
dress—"
“Fond of dress!” repeated Peter;
“and love good things!”
“Love good things,” repeated the
spouse, “and now I'm married, I mean
to have them.”
“But if—I had—known—I—I—"
began Peter.
“Wouldn't have married me, 1 sup-
pose,” said the bride. *Well, my
cousin, Mrs. Brown, told me that, you
know.”
Peter looked at her. The truth was
plain at l: st. He tried to speak, but
could not. He stared at his lady for
five minutes by the clock, and then
rushed out of the house muttering,
“Taken in! taken in!”
It is said that Peter Buskirk never
recovered from theshock. Against his
will he lived luxuriously ever after, and
his wife astonished the neighborhood
by her magnificent attire and grand
parties. Dnt nevertheless Peter him-
self expired in less than a year; and the
last wordz on his lips were said to be
“Taken in! taken!”
Two Phases.
Arkansaw Traveler.
Ona farm. Karly in the morning,
just as the birds have begun to twitter
in the locust trees, a lusty voice shouts :
“John, oh, John!”
A sleepy boy turns over in bed.
“Ho, John!"
“Yes, sir.”
“Git up now, and feed your hosses.
Daylight long ago.”
How delightfully somnolent the morn-
ing air is—the very bloom of sweet
drowsiness.
“John, if you don’t git right out this
minute I'll come in there after you.”
John knows what this declaration
means, but how harsh and rasping is
the thought of breaking the golden doze!
He putsone leg into his trowsers, and,
with the silken strand of a dream still in
his mind, he sinks back upon the pillow.
“I am comirg!” he exclaims. He
hears his father’s footsteps. He mut-
ters as he starts toward the stable: «1
don’t believe in people working them-
selves to death. Hope there'll come a
time when I can lie in bed as long as
want to. This thing of snatching a fel-
low out of bed at such an hour is all
wrong. The hogs and the dogs are all
asleep, but I’ve got to poke round here
and feed the stock. Wish I were a man
—or a dog, I dont care much which.”
The years pass on. The trees in the
orchard have grown old. Itis early
morning on the farm. A man gets out
of bed and looks at the clock.
“What time is it, John?” his wife
asks.
“Only 3 o’clock. It does seem as if
day will never come, and that bottom
field of corn has been literally run away
with by the grass. Heigho, it does seem
that we can’t get time to do anything.”
He goes back to bed and vainly at-
tempts to sleep. Rheumatic pains are
sending dispatches up and down his legs.
An hour passes. A cock crows and
birds begin to twitter in the locust trees.
“Well, its time we were stirring. Jim,
oh! Jim.” .
“Yes, sir,” comes a drowsy answer.
“Come, get up now and feed your
horses.”
Ten minutes pass. No Jim.
“Confound that boy, he’s as lazy as a
dog. Jim, Jim!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hustle out of there now or I'li come
after you.”
Ten minutes pass. “I’ll go in there
and take a strap to that lazy rascal.”
He starts; Jim comes out. “You ought
to be ashamed of yourself, wanting to
lie in bed thistime of day. When 1 was
a boy you couldn’t have kept me in bed
at this boar.”
Jim starts toward the stable, muttering
as he goes: “Hope the time will come
when 1 can sleep as long as I want to.
Wish IT was a man, or a dog, I don't
care much which.”
Ah, Lord, how we do forget. The
lesson we learn is that everything comes
too late. - In youth we smell the ripe
fruit, and we long to eat it; at last it
falls within our gresp, and lo! our teeth
are bad an our taste gone.
——Bulls are dangerous animals,
and a majority of the injuries received
occur from placing too much confidence
in gentle bulls, which suddenly and
unexpectedly attack the attendant. A
bull usually proves obedient when
young, but it is seldom that a fully ma
No bull should be:
kept on a farm that has not teen
“ringed” in the nose, and should be
made to work if training 1s possible.
cr eet mT
——A litte girl in Plainfield
very thoughtful on the way from morn- |
= mn
I'he
was |
me.” Finally she asked her mother,
wno was holding her by the hand:
“Why, no, my child,” said her mam-'
ma; “why do yon ask ?”’ “Because it
says “Eve and me.”
Must “Season” Awhile,
An old Henry county farmer , who is
a Democrat, caught on to the North-
west the other day, and backing him in-
to the corner of the drug store, said :
“One of my Republican neighbors
had adream the other night.”
“Yes; well—"
“He dreamed he died, and on the
other shore came to a fork in the road.
A sentinel in uniform stood there and
challenged his politics. ‘Tam a Repub-
lican and voted for Protection last fail,’
answered my neighbor. ‘Turn to the
left,” said the sentinel, ‘it’s but a little
way ; you'll see the smoke room soon.’
“I see. "What next happened ?”
“Well, my neighber saw a fierce-look-
ing devil roasting a sleek cunning-look-
ing chap, and asked who he was. ‘That,’
said the demon, as he piled on a fresh
scuttle of coal and brimstone, ‘that is a
protective tariff shouter.’” A little
further on another devil with his sleeves
up and sweat pouring down his temples,
was tucking up the brands around a
big fat fellow whose. lard was running
merrily down into the embers,
“ ‘And whois the fat victim?’ in-
quired my neighbor in his dream.
“(That,”” replied the devil as he lean-
ed hisspade against a pile of coal and
mopped his brow—¢that is a protection
monopolist.” Further on still, in a cor-
ner not very hot, my neighbor saw a
man hung up with a piece of binder
twine.’
“Indeed ! that was singular.”
“Yes, it struck my neighbor so, and
he inquired of the devil what it meant.’
“Jesso! Well—"’
“The devil who stood there told my
neighbor that the hoodoo hung up with
binder twine, was a Republican farmer
who voted for Trusts and Protection
last fall. He was too green to burn yet,
and it was concluded that the best
thing to do would be to hang him up
and let him season awhile !”— Napoleon
Northwest.
————————
Put it in the Law.
There i3 one other thing that ought
to be made a penal offense, with a mini-
mum fine of at least $200, with impris-
onment of not less than six months, It
is that of doubting the statements of a
man who has been a-fishing. Fish have
been caught ever since hooks were in-
vented. The fish were made to be
caught. They rather expect it. Tt is
no trick at all to “catch fish. And yet
as Jones returns from his vacation he is
stopped and asked :
“Been away ?”’
# Ves,’
“Up North ?”
Yes,
“Went fishing, I suppose ?”’
“Of course.’
“Catch anything?”
“Certainly.”
“H'm! Caught some four pounders,
presume ?”’
“Yes; I caught one which weighed
seven pounds.”
“H'm! Good-by!”
Jones not only caught one weighing
seven pounds, but a number which
weighed five and six pounds apiece, but
he dared not speak of it. Even with
what he did say he felt that the other
man believe him to be a liar. As he
walked on he felt belittled and degraded
and he made up his mind to tell a bold
lie on the next occasion and declare
that he did not even see a fish while he
was gone. Something should be done
in this matter, and it cannot be done
too soon. A man should be protected
in telling the truth as well as in life and
limb.— Detroit Free Press
I
Ceylon’s Cinnamon Gardens.
According to the London Standard,
the famous Cinnamon Gardens of Cey-
lon are doomed. Some of them, as
those about Colombo, are already being
cleared, with the intention of planting
cocoanuts upon the site. We sympath-
ize with the young men and maidens
traveling eastward, who will miss a lit-
tle diversion enjoyed by their fathers.
The cinnamon gardens of Point de
Galle were not scenes of revelry, nor
particularly interesting in themselves.
But they made a pretext for little ex-
cursions, while the ship was coaling, or
unloading, or waiting for some wari-
time event, and a goal for ‘an hour's
drive through the loveliest country upon
earth, A visit to Arabi Pacha and his
brothers in exile is a very imperfect sub-
stitute for the time honored expedition.
Tt appears that cinnamon does not pay
and we can quite believe it when we
read in the Ceylon Advertiser that the
price has fallen from $5 a pound to $2,
and occasionally of late to less. This
disaster is caused, it seems, by the ex-
port of ‘chips,”” which used to be work-
ed up in the making of cinnamon oil.
A combination was formed some years
ago, what we call a syndicate or trust
nowadays, to restrict the exportaticn of
“chips,” but it failed. Another is con-
certed, which, as is hoped, will be more
successful. The syndicate, at least, will
have the geod wishes of every old trav-
eler.
The Moon and Vetation.
New York Telegram.
The influence of the moon upon vege-
tation is very feeble compared with that
of the sun, but is established. Professor
Lindler says that possibly the screens
which are drawn over Hot-houses at
night to prevent loss of heat by radia-
tion, may produce some injury by ent-
ting off rays ~f the moon, which nature
intended to fall upon plants as much as
the rays of the sun. Again, M. Ducha-
lie, a French scienits a few years ago ex-
perimented on the sprouting and germ-
ination of seeds in moonlight instead of
sunlight. He subjected the seedings of
lentles, vetches, ete., to its influence.
When the seeds had sprouted he put
them in a dark place and kept them
there for a time, so tha" the stalks grew
tender and of a yellowish white. After-
ward on three nights, when there was
clear moonlight, he exposed thera for six
hours each night. He found that the
stalks at once turned toward and follow- |
led the moonlight just as many plants |
turn toward and follow the progress of |
the sun through the heavens. In hot
countries it is well known that vegeta-
tion is largely dependent upon the moon.
West Indian planters affirm that the
(growth of the sugar-cane is twice as
great during moonlight nights as when
there is Jno moon, an assertion which
has been repeatedly proved.
Watered Milk.
The milkman who waters his goods
generally does so under the impression
that the water poured in incorporates it-
self with the milk and cannot be detect-
ed except upon chemical analysis. This
shows gross ignorance. The nnlk will
hold only its own fluid ; all foreign fluid
will be precipitated if the mixture is
allowed to stand a couple of days. Any
housewife may spot a dishonest milk-
man with very little trouble. Let her
take a long slender bottle, ciense it
thoroughly and let it dry out. 1f, then,
it is filled with milk and allowed to stand
in a cool—not cold—place for forty-eight
hours, all the foreign fluid will be
Phin thn is, it will settle to the
ottom of the bottle. The soured milk
will then fill the middle of the bottle
and the fatty substance will be floating
on top. Sometimes the top will be a
layer of cream, then will come a layer of
albumen. Another artificial device is to
make the milk look rich; then will
come the soured milk and at the bottom
will be the foreign water. The whole
scheme of deception can be read by a
glance at the bottle atter one has had a
single lesson in the rudiments of milk
inspection. This sort of work is not
scientifically satisfactory, but it will al-
ways develop the fundamental fact—
whether or not the milk is normal.
Sheep in Small Flocks.
A member ofthe Oxford, O., Farmer's
when kept in small flocks. They are
good scavengers, and with the exception
of ticks and grubs not liable to diseases.
For grubs this farmer’s preventive is a
very simple and very effective one.
It consists of a log with two-inch holes
bored into it. Salt is placed therin and
the edges of the augur holes are kept
smeared with tar. This keeps tar on the
sheep’s nose and protects against the in-
sect’s egg, which produces grubs in the
head. His protection against ticks is
the “dip,” and against scab and foot-rot
the exercise of care in buying new stock.
Hesays: ¢Be careful how you buy
stockers at the stockyards.”
Way His Paper Was “SToPPED."’ —
T happened to be in the office of the Mer
cantile Review and Live Stock Journal
on Wednesday last in time to hear one
of the best reasons ever given for stop-
ping a newspaper. A German boy en-
tered, removed his hat, and asked :
“Is Mr. Vepsder in?”
“He is,” replied Charles H. Webster,
stock reports which he was winnowing.
“Vell, Mr. Bitters don’t vant to take
dot paber no more.
nide already.”
The name of the late Mr. Bitter, a
cattle dealer, was duly erased from the
delivery sheet'— Buffalo Thuth.
—— It was getting very late.
gry parent was frequently on the point of
to go. It suddenly occurred to him that
a hint was sometimes as good as a kick.
So he quietly descended the stairs, step-
ped on the veranda, and started a racket
at the door.
“What are you doing, father ?” in-
quired the daughter from the parlor.
“Bringing in the morning’s milk was
the reply.
Exit young man.
EvceNIE AND THE MoNKEY.—Be-
Levers in the Darwinian theory of the
descent of man should be cheered by a
little story told by a French paper about
the visit of the Empress Eugenie to
Egypt in 1869 to open the Suez canal.
The Empress brought back with her a
certain monkey which she had received |
as a present ; and Jacko subsequently
delighted the court by administering a !
severe bite to M.Emile Ollivier, who |
was never a popular personage. That
monkey evidently meant to give M.
Olliviera hint to withdraw from the
Tuileries, and if the “Cwur leger’ haz
only taken it he would not have become
prime minister, the war of the following
yearmight have been averted and the
history of France changed. The mon-
key was wiser than his mistress.
MacaroNT. —Macaroni is a peculiar
product of wheat, formerly made only
in Italy and still popularly regarded a
a distinguishing diet of the natives of
that country. The name is now appliel
only to the larger pipes, and the small
er ones are known as vermicelli, thougi
there is no real difference between ths
two except the size of the tubes. Th
wheat is ground with the use of het
and moisture into a sort of meal or pase
called semola, from which the bran 's
excluded. This meal is made into a
dough with water, and is forced throug
gauges from which it emerges as mace
roni or vermicelle, the process reser
bling that of lead pips drawing. Spe |
cial varieties of wheat, those containing |
the largest proportion of gluten, are de |
manded for the successful manufactur |
of macaroni. i
- " i
ExtrEME PreTY. — White gentlem
—Uncle Joe, ycu never work on Sup |
day, do you ? i
Uncle Joe—No, sah. Yu doan ketg |
sich a ‘ligous nigger as me wukkin’ a |
Sunday. I so keerful 'bout dat IZdoa
wuk on no day dat tech Sunday. [|
doan wuk on Sat’day nor Monday,nut} |
er; an’ sometimes I keep Sunday e |
whole week. You got to rustle roun if |
vou want ter find a nigger wid mo’ ’li- |
ion den I's got.— Harper's Weekly. !
1
mH |
>
To CoLor Frosting. —Pink—A lith |
red jelly or preserve juice, cranbeny
ry frosting, colors a pretty pink.
Putin a thin muslin bag, al |
TY} ;
| juice.
| squeeze it though the muslin.
[it into ordinary frosting.
clud, in some remarks on sheep growing, |
said: Sheepare profitable and healthy |
looking up from a mass of tissue live |
He vas dedt last |
The an- |
entering the parlor to tell the young man |
|
|
= |
|
|
sircup or cochineal, stirred into ordin- |i
Ye |i
{ juice will be colored by the rind. St the Czar to a favorite at court.
The white | ty fairly, your Highness,” was the re-
All Sorts of Paragraphs.
_—Even the homeless man may have a
title clear to mansions in the skies.
—They boast in Minnesota of a pota-
toe yield of 250 bushels per acre.
-~The slot machine to test your
weight is one of the weighs of the
world.
—There has been of late a marked
rise in the rice of quinine. Men with
malaria feel shaky.
—The way to put the sugar trust in
the soup is to refuse to put the sugar in
vour tea or coffee.
—Buggy wheels of steel on the princi-
ple of a bicycle wheel will be made by a
Pittsburg concern.
—The late Henry Charles Westover,
! coachman to the Prince of Wales, left a
| fortune of about $50,000.
| —When the carpet manufacturers’
| Trust gets started the American house-
keeper will indeed be floored.
—An Onion Trust has been organized
{in New York. There is nothing too
| strong for a Trust to tackle.
| —Ex-Senator J. McDonald's friends
| claim that he would have been worth
1 $1,000,000 had he lett politics alone.
! —There is another war cloud over
| Europe. The Autocrat of all the Russ-
| ias left Berlin with a Czaidonic grin on
his face.
—The faithful lover doesn't care
where the World,s Exposition is held
while he is holding the world’s fair in
his arms.
—Massachusetts machines make a
pair of shoes in twenty minutes. The
Chicago market is, however, not sup-
plied by Massachusetts.
—The woman who carries a hanker-
chief in her corsage should remember the
fate of the man in the fable who warm-
ed a wiper in his bosom.
—Not much of that 80,000 majority
will be left when the farmers and wage
earnels get through with their reckoning
with candidate Boyer.
—The great trotter Axtell has been
purchased by Col. Conley, of Chicago
at $105,000, the highest price ever paid
for any horse in the world.
—A Democratic postmaster in Virgin-
ia holds on to his office, because, he says,
he “buys a great many goods from
Wanamaker.” Can such things be ?
—Mr. Edison having returned from
Europe, another period of electrical
disturbances in ths country may be
confidently predictel by the Signal
Service. :
{ —When a young lady begins to
| manifest an interest in the arrangement
lof a yourg man’s cravat he wants to
| be as careful as he can possibly be or
|
1
he is gone.
—The Chicago justice who fined a
{pretty girl $5 for kissing a strange
| man against his will did his duty like
‘a hero. The poor, defenseless men of
| Chicago must be protected at all haz-
S
| —King Dinah, the Senegambian who
{ made a sensation in Paris, has started
| for his native land in a precarious
| condition. His constitution has been
wrecked by his life in the French cap-
ital.
—The refusal of the United States
Express Company to ship notes of
small denominations from Washing-
tou to banks throughout the country
at less than the regular rates has prac-
tically stopped the issue of small notes.
—Louis Linn, who spent ten years
in prison for the murder of his wife,
has begun suit at Indianapolis against
| his children to set aside the will of their
| mother. The woman's faithlessness had
driven her husband to his crime.
—-An Imperial decree has been is-
sued compelling Austrian State officials
of every rank to wear uniforms at all
times and to salute each other in mili-
tary fashion. This is another straw
which shows that the wind is rolling
up war-clouds over Europe.
—The wife of the new Chinese Min-
ister at Washington has not emerged
from the seclusion of the Legation
so that prying eyes could not catch a
glimpse of her. She gets fresh air
and a knowledge of the capital by
driving or walking in the evening with
her husband.
ConsumpTION OF Rick.—Rice is, no
doubt, the most extensively used article
of food the world over. Hundreds of
millions of people chiefly subsist on it,
and its consumption is constantly in-
creasing. It is the principel diet of at
least one-third of the human race, form-
ing the chief food of the native popula-
tions of India, China, Japan, Madagas-
car, many parts of Africa, and in fact
of almost all Eastern nations. The Bur-
mese and Siamese are the greatest consu-
mersof it. A Malay laborer gets threugh
fifty-six pounds monthly ; a Burmese or
Siamese forty-six pounds in the same
period. The Eastern nations also chiefly
obtain their beverages from rice, which
is the principal grain distilled in Siam,
Japan and China. Saki, or rice beer,
is produced in Japan to the extent of
150,000,000 gallons annually. Although
rice is such a universal article of food,
it is not so nourishing as wheat or some
other grains. More than ninetenths of
} | its substance consists of starch and wat-
er; consequently it forms more fat than
rauscle.
a——————————
——One-half of what we call naught-
ness in children is simply weariness, and
at least a third is due to indigestion,
which leaves but a very small fraction
for the theory of total depravity to rest
upon. A child who is rested, is almost
invariably good joyous and tempered. 1t
is as natural for a child to be happy as
low—Cut an orange in halves, all BRIBE for a bird to sing.—Phrenologicri
soak the yetlow partot the rind in th | Jowrnol and Science of Health.
“How are the crops doing 7" said
“Pret-
| icing is made by adding lemon-juicep ply, “although in some quarters the peo-
| the egg and sugar.
my paper.
Circulator—Nothing wrong with :
‘ paper, I hope ? i
I Omaha Citizen--Oh, no, the papés s
first rate, but you see I've moved ¥ |
family into a house adjoining the
park where they can watch the gap
from the upstairs window, so the rept «
doesn’t interest us now.— Omaka Wo#.
E
?
i
TE —
were about to close the store.
11 said the old gentleman, with a sigh,
i ple are complaining of too much reign.”
p—— ‘Let them take twenty years in Siberia
—Omaha Citizen—You may sp to dry up,” answered his Majesty, who
is quick at. repartee.
rer imam—— w—————
“Shall I vind the clock, vadder?”
young Jacob Isaacstein, as they
#No,"
1s ked
‘pizness vas too pad. Chcost let it
one, Jacob, and ve vill save vear and
tear on the veels.— Norristown Times.