Bellefonte, Pa, April 3, 1891.
m——n—
THE CANDY PULL.’
You kin talk about y’r op’ras, y’r germans, an’
all sich,
Y'r afternoon receptions an’ them pleasures o’
the rich, ;
You kin feast upon y’r chocolates, an’ yr
creams, an’ ices full,
But none o’ them is ekal to a good old candy
pull.
Fer ther’ isn’t any perfume like the ‘lasses on
re ie
A bubblin’ an’ a dancin, as it keeps a risin
higher, : , :
While the spoon goes stirrin,’ stirrin’ till the
kittle’s even full : :
No, I really think ther’s nothin’ like a good
old candy pall:
It’s true we miss the music, an’ the ball-rooms
crush and heat, :
But ther’ isn’t any bitter that stays behind the
sweet, :
An’ I think the world'd be better, an’ its cup
0’ joy more full,
If we ony had more pleasures like the good
old candy pull.
THE BURNED WILL.
BY MARY KYLE DALLAS.
I bad been engaged to my cousin
Kenneth for two years, and the course
of true love had run as smoothly as
possible.
Nobody objected. Nobody prophe-
sied evil for the future.
In fact, my uncle Graham,Kenneth’s
father, had been delighted when he
discovered our liking for each other.
“It was what I hoped from the first,”
he said. “Bessy will make a good
wife, and she 1s the girl I know that
I should like to have about the house.
Of course, you will both live with me,
and everything I have will be Ken-
neth’s when I go.”
Was ever beginning more auspicious?
When I left boarding-school and
came to my uncle’s to live, I had never
seen him or my cousin. I had been
left an orphan as a little child, and
knew I was to keep house for my uncle
Graham when I was old enough ; but
he had been abroad, Kenneth at school
and college, and I had only been able
to wonder what my unknown relatives
were like.
How delightful it was to find them
charming, to be made much of by
them, to be petted by the servants so
that my housekeeping was a mere po-
sition of dignity involving no respousi-
bilities, and finally, to know that in
Kenneth I had met my fate.
I bad nothing to lose, as those have
who leave 2 happy home for an un-
known future, but everything to gain.
Life had just begun for me. For six
months no cloud arose upon my hori-
Zon.
How could I fancy that a storm was
brooding? It came in a most unro-
mantic shape.
That important period in a young
man's history, the election day on
which he casts hie vote, had arrived
for Kenneth, and he voted for the
wrong man. I still think it was for
the wrong man, for itis notin a wo-
man’s nature to set politics before love,
Kenneth voted for the man of whom
his father disproved. It was a terrible
surprise to my uncle, a great shock, an
unendurable offense.
He believed that Kenneth respected
his opinions and would be guided by
them in all things.
He reproached him bitterly at first,
and placed the matter in such a light
that my sympathies were his, and I re-
proached him also, though rather by
tears than in words.
Of the question itself I knew noth-
ing, but my uncle was a large man
with a loud voice, and a confidence in
himself seldom equaled.
Besides, he had beeu in office, and it
appeared to me that hé must know
which was the right man 1a the right
place. :
Kenneth talked a great deal about
his principles and how a man could
not change them to please anyboby.
The house rung with reproaches, argu-
ments, and finally with abuse.
Kenneth uttered words he never
should have spoken to his father, and
my uncle was horribly offensive.
One day they were at it hammer and-
tongs,and in order to escape the noise I
went out for a walk,
On my return 1 found my uncle,
white as a sheet, pacing the library
floor.
He paused on seeing me, and lifting
his hand toward heaven, cried out:
“Stand where you are, Bessy, and
listen to me. From this time forth
Kenneth is nothing to me, nothing to
you. To hoth of us he is dead.”
“Uncle!” I gasped.
“Not a word,” said he—*not a word.
I have turned Lim out of my house. I
had reason. I am justified. To-mor-
row I shall alter my will. Kenneth
shall never have one penny of mine!
I'll make you my heiress—you—you!
Do you hear me? You stuck by me.
You are all I have now 1”
And my uncle flung himself upon a
sofa and buried his face in the pillows.
In vain I pleaded, in vain I wept.
Nothing touched him.
I boped time would change his reso-
lution, but he never faltered.
What had become of Kenneth I did
not know. He never wrote to me. He
never sent any message. He had been
vexed with me during the last few days.
And as time went on I made up my
mind that he no longer loved me. He
could easily have communicated with
mutual friends had he desired to do so.
I had loved him dearly. This sud-
den separation made me very miser-
able.
I was vexed with my uncle, but I
could not leave him. He had been a
hale, hearty, middle-aged man when
the quarrel took place.
From that time he broke down rap-
idly, changing before my eyes to an
_old man,
His spirits left him. His temper
grew outrageous. He refused to see
his friends, and at lasc he took to his
bed. T nursed him tenderly.
One day, as I sat beside him, he said,
more gently than usnal ;
“Bessy, you will be a rich woman
very soon. All I have is left to you.
| have heard of my son. The unfilial
and unnatural boy has not prospered.
He is in need, I believe. I am sorry.”
I sunk on my knees and implored
him to send for Kenneth, to forgive
him, to embrace him once more.
“He is your natural heir,” I said.
“I hope you may live many years. But
pray alter your will. Give him your
blessing, and forgiveness, and his por-
tion. You will be glad when you have
dcne it—glad whether you live or die.”
He shook his head. !
“Neither will I give him,” he said.
“And I have made my last testament
so carefully that you cannot help him,
as no doubt you would. Anything you
attempt to bestow on him vou will only
lose yourself. He shall live to regret
his disobedience and ingratitude to a
good father.”
Then he fell into a rage that was, 1
believe, his death warrant, for he died
that night. I was alone with him. I
had sent for the doctor, but he had not
come.
When all was over I kissed him, and
said aloud :
“If your spirit is aware of what I do,
it will thank me for it. I cannot take
my cousin Kenneth’s fortune.”
Then I opened the desk where pri-
vate papers were kept, found the will
glanced over it and saw that it indeed
gave everything to me, with the provi-
so that I should, under no circum-
stances, aid my cousin, and folding it
again thrust it deep into the heart of
the grate-fire, and watched the flames
consume it. .
“You will be glad, dear uncle,” I
said, “when soul has triumphed over
the body, and you know how anger
warped your mind.”
At that instant feet flew up stars,
and the doctor, followed by the servant
I had sent for him, entered the room.
After the funeral I packed my small
belongings, put into my purse the mon-
ey which my uncle’s generosity and
my natural economy had made my
own, and left the house.
I had seen my cousin in the great
drawing- room in which we assembled.
He was thin and wan, and did not look
toward me. In common with every-
body else, he still believed himself dis
inherited, and I resolved that heshould
always believe that his father had re-
lented and destroyed the will.
I had made all my plans for leaving
the town, and soon found a situation
as teacher of a country school many
miles away.
Through a friend I heard that Ken:
neth had come into the property, and
that everycae felt that my uncle had
done well in forgiving his son, and the
popular opinion was that he would
have left me something bad not death
come {0 him so suddenly.
I was not happy in my new position.
I did not fill the place well. 1 had no
proclivity for teaching, and I had been
too long used to being petted and cared
for to take kindly to the hard life of a
country school-teacher, but never once
did I regret what I had done.
Shame would have been mine if I
had taken Kenneth's fortune—grief it
he bad been in need and I unable to
help him ; for though he had forgotten
me so easily I still loved him tondly,
aud always should, I knew. Even
though I should one day hear that he
had chosen another for his wife, [ could
still give him a sister's tenderness
while life lasted.
The winter passed, spring came. The
grass that grew about the rustic school-
house was flecked with golden dande-
lions, when one day, just as my last
scholar passed out at the door, a shad-
ow fell across the floor, and looking up
I'saw my cousin Kenneth,
“Cousin Bessy,” he said, advancing
and holding out his hand, “I have had
a long search for you, Why did you
hide yourself away? I am sure my
father did not mean to forget you. I
know he would be anxious to see that
you had a share of what he left. You
were a daughter to him. I have come
to talk to you of that,” hesaid politely,
but coldly ; ro trace of the lover re
mained in his manner.
The man I had promised to marry,
whose betrothal ring I yet wore, spoke
to me of money and mony only in this
our first hour of meeting.
My pride arose, I drew myself to my
full height—not a great one to be sure.
“Cousin Kenneth,” I said, “thank
you very much. I know my uncle in-
tended to remember me, but since fate
interfered, the matter is settled.”
“It is my duty to protest,” he said.
“I am merely acting as my father’s
substitute. Paying Ais debts, remem-
ber, not mine, and his fortune was very
large.”
His manner was as cold as ice as he
stood there measuring his words, and
looking away from the woman who
loved him =o, who longed to cast her-
self into his arms and cry :
“Oh, thank Heaven, we meet once
more!"
My heart ached, my brain throbbed.
“I will not accept charity,” I cried
in my grief and wrath, “I will accept
it from no oae, least of all from you. I
can earn my bread.”
And I rejoiced that, though he did
not dream it and never shall, he owed
all that “large fortune” of which he
spoke to me.
Now suddenly his face changed.
“Bessy,” he said, “how strange that
I once thought you had a tender heart!
I was disabused of that when you sent
me back my lettersand told me through
the pen of another that you despised
me too much to wish to hear from me
again.”
I stared at him astonished,
“I never received a letter!” I cried.
“I wonder that you did not care to
write, but——-"
I paused; on the same instant we
both understood that in some way my
uncle had intercepted the messenger
who brought my letters and had written
one which furthered his own plans and
made Kenneth believe me false to him.
“Don’t speak!” I cried. “Don’t
ask me anything. Don’t tell me any-
thing. Only believe me. I never had
a word from you, though I longed for
one. Believe me by our old friend-
ship.”
“And I thought you false and cruel
all this while,” he sighed.
He held out his arms and I crept in-
to them, and as we kissed each other
we forgave the wrathful old man for all
the sorrow he had given us—forgave
him utterly and forever.
As for the burned will, that is my
secret, mine alone. I will keep that
even from my husband, and when he
says: After all, he forgave me at last,
poor old father,” I rejoice that I have
done so.—New York Weekly.
The Peace Dance.
The Most Engaging of Indian Ceremo-
nies Described.
The dance of the calumet, or pipe of
peace, is one of the most engaging of In-
dian ceremonies. While preparations
are being made for this dance all is ex-
citement in the Indian village- -every-
body talks about it. The chief bustles
around buying ribbons and beads to
decorate the stem of the pipe of peace
and make ready for the rites soon to be
performed. The chief who is to be hon-
ored with the dance keeps within tho
lodge engaged in meditation and smok-
ing the fragrant kinnickinnick. The
young braves attire themselves as gor-
geously as their means will permit,
and the young squaws add an extra
touch of vermillion to their bronzed
cheeks. The day finally arrives chosen
by the principal men of the tribe for the
ceremony, and about noon the chiefs ap-
pear in the doors of the lodge gayly dec-
orate. and painted for the auspicious oc-
casion, Chanting in a low tone an in-
vocation to the Great Spirit, and shak-
ing their rattles, they wave their calu-
mets with their beautiful blue stems
adorned with war eagle feathers, making
their medicine first to the rising and
then to the setting sun, after which they
descend and enter the lodge, which is
large in proportion and covered with
earth. At its farther end four of the
principal men of the village sit engaged
in ceaseless singing and drumming.
Before each lie medicine sticks. Two
of them entering immediately engage in
dancing and waving their calumets and
shaking their rattles. In the centre isa
fire, over which a kettle of buffalo, meat
is boiling, presided over by a.chief con-
stantly engaged in smoking kinnickin-
Lick. These ceremonies, with little va-
riations, are repeated incessantly for
tour days. On the fifth day the impor-
tant part of the rites degins.
After an invocation from the roof of
the lodge and the dance within, a pro-
cession is formed and all proceed to the
prairie, carrying two buffalo skulls paint-
ed red. The musicians seal themselves
in along row, sing and dance and pass
the calumet from one to another. The
procession is then reformed and the pipe
borne to the lodge of a principal chief of
the tribe. After an introductory song
and dance a delegation of braves, in-
cluding the musicians, depart to the
lodge of the one upon whom the honor
of the dance had been conferred to con-
duct him to the place where the honors
of the occasion await him. After
marching several times around the fire
the honored chief is surrounded by the
head men of the tribe, musicians and
others, and an address is now made by
one of the principal men, urging all be-
fore him “to throw to the medicine.”
Each responds in turn, coming forward
singly and bestowing presents of guns,
blankets, calicoes, scarlet and blue cloth,
beads, finely worked buffalo robes and
everything within the possession of a
Dacotah band of Indians. When all the
presents are given the dancing ends, the
music ceases and the crowd disperses,
while the chief begins to distribute
among his friends the presents he bas re-
ceived, This dance of the calumets is
one of the most important of all the
dances and medicine feasts of the North
American Indians, and is always given
in honor of some member of the tribe,
who ever after is regarded as one of the
most distinguished. By this ceremony
he is especially confided to the care of
the great spirit, who will henceforth
take particular care of and provide for
all his wants. Success will attend all
his efforts in the chase and on the war-
path. Many scalps will hang from his
girdle and adorn his lodge poles. He
will steal many fine horses from his ene-
mies ; buffalo meat will be abundant,
his children will never ery for food and
he himself will forever after bear a
charmed presence in battle.
rer rns
Indians Never Scalp Negroes.
There is one danger incident to Indian
warfare to which a soldier of the colored
regiments is not exposed—he runs no
risk of being sealped. The Indians call
the negroes ¢buflalo soldiers,’ referring
to their close, woolly hair, and nothing
would induce them to take an Ethiop-
ian scalp. They believe it to be “bad
medicine,” certain to bring misfortune,
and not a case can be cited in which a
colored man has lost his hair. The sol-
diers know this, and itis astonishing
with how much confidence this knowl-
edge inspires them. I have read several
accounts of the Indian method of taking
scalps, but none are strictly accurate, the
method of scalping depending largely
upon the time at th: disposal of the
wielder of the knife. An Indian likes
to take off’ every part of the skin of the
head that is covered with hair, and in-
stances are numerous in which the mus-
tache and beard were removed in one
piece with the scalp. A soldier of the
Fourth cavalry was once killed by the
Comanches. He was a very hairy man,
and the Indians skinned him from his
head nearly to his waist. This ghastly
trophy was captured several years after
it was taken, having been preserved by
the tribe as “good medicine,” of most
remarkable efficiency.
Wao INVENTED Ick OreaM ?-—The
first mention of ice cream that if found
in history isin the account of the fes-
tivities following Washington’s first in-
anguration as President, in New York
1789. Among the ices used upon that
occasion wag ice cream, which is said to
have been prepared under the direct
supervision of Dolly Adams, wife of
John Adams, the second President.
Mrs, Adams was at that time the bright-
est star in social and diplomatic circles.
Dolly’s popularity was by no means di-
minished when it was discovered that
she was the first to suggest the new con- ;
“oven ; enough for three loaves.
fection,
OUR KIND OF A MAN.
Not an Apollo with snow white hand,
A trifle austere, nor yet too bland ;
But a heart of gold all through and through,
And tender and sympathetic, too—
Our kind of a man !
Ah, one who, walking the world’s broad ways
Sees little to blame and much to praise ;
Hasa cheer and mile forthe weary throng
And bold contempt for ti.e bitter wrong—
Our kind of a man !
Yea, one who, ignoring baser ends,
Liveth for home and the good of friends ;
Where, self, forgotten, broad manhood lies,
A star in _the glory of the skies—
Our kind of a man!
Who not for theories but for deeds,
Christ’s own apostle, with love for creeds,
The world’s brave prophet, after Go's plan,
In healing and teaching he leads the van—
Our kind ofa msn!
Our Agricultural Exports.
According to a report of the Statisti-
cian of the Department of Agriculture
| about one-tenth of ouragricultural prod-
ucts is exported. The sum is, however,
made up from a very few articles. These
are cotton, tobacco, meats, breadstuffs
and cheese. Seven-tenths of the cotton
product goes to foreign markets. All
other articles except these above stated
when put together are but three per
cent. of the export. The exportation of
tobacco is not increasing materially or
so rapidly as home consumption. More
cheese could be sold if its reputation for
quality shouid be kept up and there
were more disposition to cater to
fastidious or peculiar foreign tastes.
Butter exports could be made larger
if they were of better quality.
Our great American crop -— corn—
is chiefly consumed on the spot, not
more than one sixth, it is said, going
beyond the boundary of the county in
which it is grown, and only two to three
per cent. being now exported. Nearly
two-thirds of this crop is produced in
seven States—Ohio, Indiara, Illinois,
Iowa, Missouri, Kansas and Nebraska,
few others producing more than is re-
quired at home, and the larger portion
having a deficiency to be supplied by
those seven States.
Still Another Trust.
A New Yorker who was stopping for
a day or two at a small town on the
shore of Lake Huron saw many fish
caught, and naturally became enthusias-
tic to make a few choice hauls himself.
Going down t the only wharf, he asked
about lines and bait, and a 12-year old
boy replied :
“I furnish everything and charge 25
cents per hour.” :
“But isn’t that high ?”
“No, sir.”
“I think it is downright robbery and
I'll try some other place.”
“All right,” responded the boy,
“There’s this wharf, the old wreck, and
that slab pile, and they are the only
places to fish from. We've formed a
trust and made the price, and if you
want to fish you've got to come to it.”
The Names of American States.
The State of Maine was so called in
compliment to the Queen of Charles I.,
who was born in the province of that
name in France. Few people are un-
aware that Pennsylvania is called after
the great Quaker, Virginia after Queen
Elizabeth, and Louisiana after Louis
XIV., of France. But it is less generally
known that Florida received its pretty
name from the fact that on the Spanish
Pasqua de Flores, or feast of Fowers,
Ponce de Leon discovered, in 1519, this
lovely shore. The State of Delaware
was so designated atter Lord De La
Ware, who called there in 1610; and
the name Rhode Island was adopted in
1671 from the Island of Rhodes in the
Mediterranean, the two islands being
supposed to resemble each other.
eee mem
Tomatoes are particularly nice
cooked as directed below: Open a
three pound can of tomatoes, taking out
any green bits of cores ; chop rather
fine and put over to cook ina clean
saucepan, with a good lump of butter—
add a little water if the tomatoes be-
come too dry before cooking smooth,
Have ready a small cupfui of fine dry
bread crumbs, season with salt and pep-
per and just before serving add the bread
crumbs, with two large or thee small
eggs. Stir quickly and remove from
the fire as soon as the eggs have set.
Serve at once in a hot dish.
. He Was Too UaLY For HER. —Pe-
ter L. Clerc, a prosperous French farmer
who resides in Roseville, Kan., came to
Wabash, several days ago, to wed a
young woman with whom he had been
corresponding, having secured her ad-
dress through the medium of a matri-
monial sheet, Clerc’s appearance was
not prepossessing, and the girl refused to
wed the stranger after the license had
been procured, Clerc returned to his
Western home. He has written toa
friend her friend here asking that ala-
dy be found who will wed him. Clerc
is 28 years of age,
—
He Workep Too Mucm.—“A big,
strong man like you ought to be work-
ing instead of begging five cents. How-
ever, I'll giva it to you.”
“Thank you, sir,” answered Jaggars,
the tired, “but that’s my own fault.
I'm working too much.”
“W hat, vou ?”’
“Yes, sir : working the growler.”
Twenty centuries before the
birth of Waty, Hero, of Alexandria,
Egypt, described machines whose mo-
tive power was steam. He also invent-
ed a doable force pump, used as a fire
engine, and anticipated the modern
turbine wheel by a machine he named
“Neolpile.”
CreAM CAKES.-—Have one-half pint
of boiling water in a kettle, put in two-
thirds cup of butter or lard, add one and
one-half cups of flour; let it cool a little,
add five eggs well beaten and beaten up
well ; drop a spoonful at a time on a hot
tin and bake quickly. For filling make
a rich corn starch with eggs and flavor.
WepDING CAKE.—One pound of su-
gar, ten eggs, one pound of butter, one
cup of molasses, one and one-half pounds
of flour, one-half teaspoonful of soda,
one pound of citron, two pounds each of
raisins and currants, two teaspoonfuls
each of cloves, cassia and mace and two |
nutmegs ; bake four hours 1n a slow |
A Remarkable Sentence.
4 Judge Who Took Delight in Pro-
nouncing Dealh on a Prisoner.
One of the most eccentric and at the
same time one of the ablest judges that
ever sat upon the tar western bench was
Kirby Benedict, who, for thirteen years,
was a justice of the supreme court of
New Mexico, having been first appoint-
ed in 1857 by President Pierce and
reappointed in 1853 by President Buch-
anan, and appointed chief justice of the
court by President Lincoln. He was a
man of great ability and learning,
strong in his prejudices, violent in his
passions and relentless in his convic-
tions.
There are many anecodotes told of
Judge Benedict. But the crowning act
of his judicial career was the sentence of
death passed by him upon a prisoner
convicted of murder, which sentence
was as follows :
“Jose Maria Martin, stand up. Jose
Maria Martin, you have been indicted,
tried and convicted by a jury of your
countrymen of the crime of murder, and |
the court is now about to pass upon you
the dread sentence of the law. As a
usual thing, Jose Maria Martin, it is a |
painful duty for the Judge of a court of
Justice to pronounce upon a human be-
ing the sentence of death. There is
something horrible about it, and the
mind of the court naturally revolts from
the performance of such a duty. Hap-
pily, however, your cése is relieved of
such unpleasantness, and the court takes
positive delight in sentencing you to
death.
“You are a young man, Jose Maria
Martin, apparently of good physical
constitution and robust health. Ordin-
arily you might have looked forward to
many years of life, and the court has no
doubt you have, and have expected to
die at a green old age; but you are
about to be cut off as the consequence of
your own act. Jose Maria Martin, it is
now the spring time ; in a little while
the grass will be springing up in these
beautiful valleys and flowers be blooming
and birds singing above your lowly
head.
“The sentence of the court is that you
be taken from this place to the county
jail ; that you there be kept safely and
securely confined in the custody of the
sheriff until the day appointed for your
execution. Be very careful, Mr. Sheriff,
that he have no opportunity 10 escape,
aud that vou have him at the appointed
place at the appointed time ; that you
be so kept, Jose Maria Martin, until—
clerk on what day of the month does
Friday about two weeks from this time
come?” “March 29 your honor.”
‘Very well—until Friday, the 22d day;
of March, when you will be taken from
your place of confinement to some safe
and convenient spot within the county
(that is in your discretion, Mr. Sheriff’:
you are only confined to the limits of
the county,) and that you there be
hanged by the neck until you are dead,
and—the court was about to add, Jose
Maria Martin, ‘may God have mercy on
your soul,” but the court will not assume
the responsibility of asking an all-wise
Providence to do that which a jury of
your people have refused to do. The
Lord couldn’t have merey on your soul.
However, if you have any religious be-
lief, or ure connected with any religious
organization, it might be well enough
for you to send for your priest or minis-
ter and get from hiitn—well, such conso-
lation as you can ; but the court advises
you to place no reliance upon anything
of that kind. Mr. Sheriff, remove the
prisoner.” —. Pittsburg Trader.
Subterranean Fires.
Some idea of the terror of volcanoes
may be gathered from an account of an
eruption in one of the Hawaiian islands,
as graphically described in the London
Budget. when thecrater was filled trom
five hundred to six hundred feet deep
with molten lava, the immense weight
of which broke through a subterranean
passage of twenty-seven miles and
reached the sea, forty miles distant, in
two days, flowing for three weeks and
heating the water twenty miles dis-
tant.
Rocks melted like wax in its path ;
forests crackled and blazed before its
fervent heat ; the works of man were to
it but as a scroll in the flames.
Imagine Niagara's stream, above the
brink of the falls, with its dashing,
whirling, madly raging waters, hurrying
on to their plunge, instantaneously con-
verted into a firy gory hued river of
fused minerals; volumes of hissing
steam arising ; smoke curling upward
from ten thousand vents, which give
utterance to many deep-toned mutter-
ings and sullen confined clamorings ;
gases detonating and shrieking as they
burst from their hot prison-house ; the
heavens lurid with flames ; the atmos-
phere dark and oppressive ; the horizon
murky with vapors and gleaming with
the reflected contest.
Such was the scene as the fiery cata-
ract, leaping a precipice of fifty feet,
poured its flood upon the ocean. The
old line of coast, a mass of compact, in-
durated lava, whitened, cracked and
fell. The waters recoiled and sent forth
a tempest of spray; they foamed and
lashed around and over the melted
rock, they boiled with white heat, and
the roar of conflicting agencies grew
flercer and louder. The reports of the
exploding gases were distinctly heard
twenty-five miles distant, and were lik-
ened to a whole broadside of heavy
artillery. Streaks of the intensest light
glanced lke lightning in all directions ;
the outskirts of the burning lava as it
fell, cooled by the shock, were shivered
into millions of fragments and scattered
by the strong wind in sparkling showers
far into the country. Six weeks later at
the base of the hills the water continued
scalding hot and sent forth clouds of
steam at every wash of the waves,
—
‘Way HE CLAIMED A REDUCTION, —
“I say, doctor, isn’t this bill a litle
steep ? Can’ you knock offa V 27
“No. Why should I?”
“Well, you mustremember it was me
who introduced this scarlet fever into
town. Ain't that worth something ? I
get 10 per cent on every scarlet fever
victim from the undertaker on the cor-
ner.”
Wherever not less than two hundred
cows are close together in a neighbor- !
hood there a cheese factory or acream-
ery may be started.
ER DPE Soar FS AEE
Odds and Ends for the Ladies.
Any woman ought to be able to make
herself a hat in these days when only the
foundation need be stiff and smooth A
twist and a pull and a tack will make
plush orsatin assume wearable forms.
The evening capote is a most skittish
article. Its airy, fairy nothingness ren-
ders it a sort of delusive aggravation.
It is not to be touched by the amateur
until she has its ensemble well photo-
graphed upon her mental camera, and
every detail clearly jotted upon wmem-
ory’s tablets.
The little toques that are worn fir
theatre, carriage, shopping and calling
are deceptive as to price. The cost is
not at ail commensurate with the size of
the hat. A little one with puffed crepe
de Chine crown, feathered band border,
ostrich tips at the buck and a eouple of
jet ornaments, costs $16.
There is a stout majron who has add-
ed to her height by a plain princess,
which is made to quite touch the floor.
The only fullness is in the front of the
waist, which is brought to one side with
an ornament, the opening being in the
left side and invisible. The fit over the
hip is perfect, the only movement neces-
sary to the skirt being given by the
back plait.
Some rather pretty bodices are now
made for quiet evenings and home din-
ners. For example, a corsage of pale
pink surah, emblished with imitation
point d’Alencon, two rows of which
form the basque; lace is also arranged
on each side of the front, which opens
to show a jabot of surah; the sleeves
are made full at the top, and drawn in
toward the hand with a torsade and rib-
bon bow.
There is a language of the veil as well
as the fan. To drop the spotted tissue
entirely over the face indicates that the
wearer is pleased with her admirer, but
it 1s a warning as well to be careful.
If the veil is raised above the lips a kiss
is promised “somewhere, somehow,
sometime; but if the veil is lifted
quickyl entirely off the face, then have
a care, for the woman is defiant and re-
sents her cavalier’s impertinence.
———
How to Grow Peaches and Pears.
Pear trees do not come into bearing
until from five to seven years old, while
peach trees begin to bear when from two
to three years old. Much of the future
usefulness of the trees depends on their
early treatment, and with good manage-
ment the bearing periods may be pro-
longed to a fonger time. It is really of
no advantage to have young trees begin
to bear too early, nor should they be al-
lowed to make too much growth without
cutting back. Much depends on the
variety, and before planting an orchard
the proper varieties suitable for the cli-
mate and soil should be selested. To
use a choice variety that will not adapt
itself to the conditions will result unsat-
isfactorily.
PEACHES AND PEARS TOGETHER.
It is now the practice with some to set
out peach trees between the pear trees,
80 as to bave the peach trees bear crops
and die before the pear trees are ready.
This will utili.ie the land to the best ad-
vantage, but only for « short time, as it
is doubtful if anything will be gained in
the end. Pear trees and peach trees do
not require the tame cultivation, and no
one should put out peach trees unless
with a view of endeavoring to have a
permanent orchard. Some varieties of
pears, such as the Bartlett, are very slow
in growing, while others, like the Keif-
er, are strong and vigorous, but the fruit
of the former is much superior te the
latter. Peach trees should be well cut
back the first two gears after they are
set out, and may also be well cut back
the third year, but pear trees do not re-
quite very severe cutting. To grow
them together will retard the progress of
both. especially as the peach delights in
a clear field and no obstacles.
PREVENTING DISEASES. :
The blight in pears and yellows in
peaches are tie chief obstacles, not for-
getting the borers, but science now en-
ables growers to combat the blight.
The so-called yellows in peach trees may
be the result of the work of lice on the
roots, and if this proves true in many
cases, as is believed, the life of the peach
tree may be extended. By preventing
the borer, and the liberal use of fungi-
cides and insecticides, there will be no
necessity for trying the experiment of a
“catch crop” of peaches among pears,
but the peach orchard can be made a
source of profit alone.
An Edicor’s Over Caution.
Many people make mistakes and lose
alot by being too suspicious, too cau-
tious. We remember the last time we
visited New York City—with which
place nobody else in Dodgeville is prob-
ably so familiar. A man came up to us,
as we stood on our hotel steps after tak-
ing a noontime snack at Delmonico’s,
and says he to us: “The editor of the
‘Backwoodsman’s Banner,’ I presume I’
We had the old bunco game down fine,
and, looking the man squarely in the
eyes, we replied: “You presume too
much, sir. Weare not the editor.”
(This was untrue, but justifiable under
the circumstances.) “I beg your par-
don,” he said, toaching his hat politely ;
“I merely wished to tender you a ticket
to the dinner of the Press Club this
evening.” He felt hurt and so did we.
He had been received with ‘unnecessary
suspicion and we had missed a good din-
ver. We merely mention this incident
as a reminder to those who are always
saying “Go slow |” that it is not always
wise to go too slowly. We must risk
something it we would be truly great.
——-Two remarkably big men were
buried at Marshall, il, recently.
Charles Keller, aged twenty, weighed
400 pounds, and an eighteen year old
son of Davis Reynolds weighed a few
pounds” more than 400. There was
no hearse in town large enough to car-
ry the coffin of either of them.
—————
Probably the oldest house in
the United State is a decaying stone
dwelling that stands in Guilford, Conn.
It was built in 1640 and is still occu-
pied. In colonial times it did duty oc-
casionally as a fort and was a place of
"refuge for settlers when King Philip
was on the warpath.