Deworvaic; Wacom
Bellefonte, Pa., May 14, 1897.
HOEING AND FRAYING.
Said Farmer Jones in a whining tone,
To his good old neigbnor Gray, *
“I’ve worn my knees nigh through to the bone,
But it ain’t no use to pray.
“Your corn looks just as nice as mine,
Though yon don’t pretend to be
A shinin’ light inthe church to shine,
And tell salvation’s free.
“I've prayed to the Lord a thousand times
For to make that ere corn grow ;
An’ why yourn beats it so an! climbs,
I’ gin a deal to know.”
Said Farmer Gray to his neighbor Jones,
In his easy quiet way ;
“When prayers get mixed with lazy bones,
They don’t make farmin’ pay.
“Your weeds, I notice, are good an’ tall
In spite of all your prayers;
You may pray for corn till the heavens fall,
If you don’t dig up the tares.
“I mix my prayers with a little toil,
Along in every row;
An’ I work this mixture into the soil
Quite vig’rous with a hoe.
“An’ I've discovered, though still in sin,
As sure as you are born,
This kind of compost well worked in
~ Makes pretty decent corn.
“So while I'm praying I use my hoe,
An’ do my level best
To keep down-the weeds along each row,
An’ the Lord does the rest.
“It’s well to pray both night and morn,
As every farmer knows ;
But the place to pray for thrifty corn
Is right between the rows.
“You must use your hands while praying tho,
If an answer you would get; |
For prayer-worn knees an’ a rusty hoe,
Never raised a big crop yet.
‘An’ so I believe, my good old friend,
If you mean to win the day,
From plowing clean to the harvest’s end,
You must hoe as well as pray.
CONCEPCION.
She was counting the pieces of soiled
table linen, and the washer-woman’s boy
who waited outside thought she was long
about it.
“Uno, dos, tres, cuatro—""
She dropped the napkins slowly. To
tell the truth her thoughs were far from
that pile of soiled clothes.
“Cinco, seis, siete, ocho—-""
“Mexicanos, al grito de guerra,
El acero aprestad y el bridon.”
Concepcion dangled the last napkin from
the tips of her slender brown fingers.
“Y retiemble en sus centros la tierra,
Al sonoro rugir dei canon,”
It was Guadulupe singing in the garden.
She loved to hear him sing the national
hymn. The eighth napkin floated down
to join its seven brothers and Concepcion
forgot there was a whole weck’s change of
tablecloths and the extras from two dinner
parties yet to be counted. :
“Cina, oh patria, tus sienes de oliva
De Lkupaz el areangel divino—?"
“Aye, aye, aye! Are you ever going to
count those pieces, muchacha 2’
It was the washer-woman’s hoy roused
to a complaint.
“Nueve, dicz, once, doce——="
She hurried and the task was completed. |
She stood looking out across the garden.
In the morning sunlight it seemed a gay
blanket spread out to air—a jumbled mass
of roses, red and yellow and pink, relieved
by the deep green of leaves and grass ;
over and through all the scents of orange
blossoms and of the “floripondio.”’
Guadalupe’s song had sunk to a martial
murmur but he still held to the air. Con-
cepcion watched him as he busied himself
in arranging the unruly tendrils of the
‘“‘madre-selva’’ that climbed over the gar-
den wall.
He was little and lithe and slender built
Indian all over. She watched his hands
as they darted here aud there like active
brown lizards among the greenery. Con-
cepcion knew that slim and narrow as those
fingers were they had twice the strength of
the big white dedos of the American,
She started to find herself comparing the
two. Yet in her mind they were always
side by side, master and man. Guadalupe
and Harvey.
Harvey was the senor of the house : a
tall, loose-jointed, thoroughly American
American, very different from his widowed
mother.
She was an invalid, one of those who
revel in complaints and air with pride the
vast array of afflictions with which sym-
pathetic doctors accredit them. She lay
all day long in her easy-chair and read
sombre-bound medical journals, Every
twenty-four hours added some complica-
tion to her ailments. The son had bought
a country house in Mixcoac, a suburb con-
nected with Mexico City by several
branches of the District Street Railway.
He hoped the flowers and sunshine would
bring his complaining mother to health.
Senator James, the dead father, was
‘Old Cow-hide Boot " to all Washington.
He was a Western man, one who had come
up by brains alone, from a miner's post to
a position of honor in Congress. Though
much polished hy society he had never
quite lost that easy freedom of speech and
action that marks those born west of the
Mississippi.
And this son—vice consul- reneral to
Mexico—was his father’s own photograph.
He was like him, too, in his western ways,
and in his absolute disregard for all class
barriers. 3
Concepcion stood comparing Harvey and
Guadalupe, the gardener. Con i v
but fhe chamber maid. London 935
ike her face, Harvey,” Mrs. James
had said. ‘‘She’s ca villi
SE PS cpl and w illing, and
“I like her face, tambien ; I'd rather
have a half competent hut pretty servant
than a wholly capable ugly one. By Jove,
I’ve got an eye for the beautiful ma.”
Mrs. James looked keenly at her long-
limbed son stretched on the sofa, but he
was watching the circles of cigarette smoke
above his head and missed her glance. And
while he watched the scattering dim blue
mist 1t resolved itself into a face—a fair,
brown face, with eyes dark and downcast,
a red mouth, well arched above the sensi-
tive, drooping corners, the bro d, proud
forehead, crowned with masses of straight,
black hair. :
Concepcion, as she stood in the doorway
watching the gardener, wasalmost as beau-
tiful as his dream had been. And Con-
cepcion was going to marry Guadalupe.
Oh, no, there was no doubt about that. It
had heen settled when she still swung from
her mother’s back in the rehozo. At that
time Guadalupe was’ just hig enough to be
’
trusted to the village store for pulque.
‘‘Pronto chula, get your work done and
we'll walk in the plaza to-night.’
Gaudalupe swung a familiar hand down
on her shoulder and with a tightening grip
of his long, brown fingers held her when
she would have shrunk from him. She
submitted to his caresses. She would soon
be Guadalupe’s wife.
“I'm going to buy you a new ring,
chiquita, with a hrilliante twice as big as
those the senora wears.’
‘‘Caramba, Nombre de Dios ! Where iy
the devil is that confounded butler ?’
It was Harvey, swearing in murdefed
Spanish. But he was not angry ; he néver
got angry with his inferiors.
“Ya voy !” came the answer from the
servants’ quarters and when in the course
of five or ten minutes Ignacio rushed past
in obedience to the summons, Guadalupe
was trimming the orange-trees and Con-
cepcion was down on her knees cleaning
the tiled corridor.
Harvey stood in the dining-room door
waiting for breakfast. He rammed his
hands down into his pockets and watched
Concepcion at. work.
‘I-say, Conchita, is that a regular job
of yours ?”’
*‘No, senor, but
“Where's that good for nothing mozo,
anyhow ? You get up off your knees and
let him do the scrubbing.’
Concepcion obeyed. Guadalupe’s shears
clicked sullenly.
“Oyes, oyes, Julio {’ .
Julio was the mozo, porter, man of all
work.
‘‘Harvey,”” called his mother’s voice,
roused to a command, ‘‘Julio is busy. Con-
cepeion, go on with your work.”
Harvey whistled softly. He looked at
the girl and an amused smile stretched the
corners of his handsome, clear cut mouth.
Concepcion burned red under the brown
skin and her eyes were fixed on the blue
and white tiles at her feet. Mrs. . Harvey
had spoken in Spanish and she understood
—fully]
Li turned into his mother’s room
and the next half hour he sat before her
like a scolded schoolboy while she lectur-
ed him upon ‘the everlasting fitness of
things.”” Mrs. James was a Boston wom-
an ; for fifteen years her husband had been
the puzzle of her life and now her son was
proving a more complicated edition of that
same puzzle. ‘When she had done, Harvey
James’s thoughts were jogging along a
road they had never before travelled—and
they found it easy journeying.
Ignacio was held in great admiration
among the other servants for Ignacio could
understand English. If Ignacio had not
understood English—but then, he did.
In Mexican houses every room opens in-
to the other and sound passes easily through
the thin wooden doors. Moreover, Con-
cepcion slept with her ear almost against
the inch wide crack between the floor and
the door that led into Ignacio’s room.
Maxmiliana, the cook, stretched her blank-
ets against the opposite wall—Concepcion
and she shared the room—but any way,
Maxmiliana fought all sound away from
her own ears by her snoring. Thus it hap-
pened that Concepcion heard it all.
Concepcion, as she ate in silence her
tortillas and frijolies in the kitchen at
noon, had heard Harvey and his mother in
earnest conversation. Then Harvey had
told the butler not to wait supper for him
as he would not be home before midnight.
Concepcion thought, too, Ignacio’s eyes
grew cunning. She was sure, after what
she heard through the door that night.
It was eleven before any sound broke the
stillness sleep laid upon the quinta. A
single ray of light streamed out across the
garden from the room where Mrs. James
awaited her son.
Then a board creaked under her head and
Concepcion listened. Some one was mov-
ing in Ignacio’s room.
‘Dios mio, it’s dark.”
voice.
“Callate la hoca! Don’t you know
there are ears in the next room ?’—that
was Ignacio.
‘Are you sure you understood it well 2’
Guadalupe’s voice was anxious.
“Tor the four hundredth time, let me
tell you exactly what he said.” Ignacio’s
whisper grew proud. He could under-
stand English. ‘‘He told his mother at
dinner 2 :
A gust of wind blew a handful of rat’
tling leaves against the outside door and
for a moment completely drowned the voice
in the next room. Concepcion pressed Ler
ear to the crack.
‘‘And that he would have to bring the
money out here. In that case, it would be
impossible for him to reach here before
twelve. So he told his mother.”
‘‘But how does he come? There are no
cars after eight thirty between Mexico and
Mixcoac.”’ :
‘‘He comes in a special.”
“It will be guarded.’
“No. His mother urged him to get a
gendarme but he would none of it. He
said the money came so unexpectedly that
none but he and el senor Ministro knew of
it. It will seem he is but returning late
from the Legation.”’
“But - bAl
“Dulcie San Jose! Ni que but ni que
but! The odds are ours—two prepared
against two unprepared—youn against the
driver, I against the American. Come,
vamonos !’’
Concepcion heard the hoard creak again
under her head. Their door closed softly.
She sprang up and while her hastening
fingers fastened her ungainly cotton gown
her mind was struggling to decide some
plan of action. It was robbery, yes. “Two
prepared against two unpreparci.’”’ Con-
cepcion knew what that meant. :
She opened the door and stepped out.
Maxmiliana snored on. The wind blew in
strong, uneven gusts and the cutting chill
rallied Concepcion. She drew the flapping
ends of her rebozo tighter gbout her. How
was she to leave the house ? Not by the
street door. The porters wakened at the
slightest rasp of its heavy bolts and chains;
he would never let her pass. Not through
the orchard gate ; Guadalupe held the key.
She measured the garden wall ; it did not
offer one foot-hold in all its ten-foot heighth.
The roof ! It was flat ¢ she could run over
the house-tops and joining garden walls to
the end of the hlock and jump.
She climbed the narrow stairs that led
up ; she crept along and swung down onto
the back garden wall. All seemed clear,
the roofs and walls were unbroken to the
end of the block. The wind puffed in
sudden whirls, and the boughs from the
orchard—trees caught in her hair and loos-
ened it from its coil ; the long strands
switched in her face and cut like a whip
lash. She was half over. So far the gar-
den walls had been flat and a good foot in
width, but here the owner, with a view to
protecting his loaded fig-trees, had raised
the wall like an inverted V on top and
sewed the mortar thick with bits of broken
glass and china. The long, thin bricks
projected beyond the V an inch each side.
Concepcion prayed to her patron saint that
those bricks might hold.” The blood ran
from the cuts in her hands for in the dark-
ness she could not choose the places to
”
Guadalupe’s
grasp for balance. At the last the end !
Concepcion held to the wall and lowered
herself as far as possible, then let go and
dropped.
The force of the fall threw her to the
ground, but she was up in a moment. She
had lit squarely on her feet and even in
her excitement she was conscious of a dim
ache in her back and a strange buzzling in
her head.
She turned north along the car line to-
bp ward Mexico. It was by this track he was
coming. She ran with all her might. San
Juan de los Pinos was passed ; all was
dark and quiet theré. She reached the
half mile of prairie open that lies between
San Juan and Iacubaya. Here they meant
to waylay him—there was not a house
within sight or call. Fear sped her on.
Now came the high embankment just at
the entrance to Tacubaya. His car was
coming and coming fast ! She could hear
the rattle of the mule’s hoofs against the
cobble stones. How was she to warn him ?
The driver would never stop for her !
The car rounded into view, a noisy, flar-
ing speck of light in the darkness. The
mules were stretched on a hard run and
the driver was plying his whip.
Concepcion braced herself. She looked
once down the embankment. If the mules
swerved ever so little from the middle
course she would be hurled down into the
darkness.
The ear sped past in a whirlwind of dust
but as it went Concepcion grasped the iron
hand railing and sprung up. Her foot just
reached the lower step and the speed threw
her forward across the platform.
The driver staggered.
‘Maria Purisima !”’
She seemed some evil spirit blown up
out of the night. :
The mules were unhitched, fastened to
the other end of the car and they rattled
back inte Tacubaya. Harvey had decided
to go no farther that night. They drew
up in the station to wait the morning.
Concepcion had shrunk inte her robozo.
It was done, but what about herself so far
from home—alone ?”’
‘*Adios, senor. I must go back.’’
*‘Go back !"”” Harvey sat her down in
the corner again. “Go back ? Alone—in
this pitch dark ? Great Scott, girl !”’
‘‘Adios, senor. I must go.”
Harvey was too slow. She had jumped
from the car. .
‘Mexican customs again. She would
have been lost to the world forever if she
had stayed here like any reasoning crea-
ture. ° I hope she gets home. I rather ad-
mire her for sticking up for what she be-
lieves is right. Brave little soul !”’
‘‘Harvey, how inconsiderate you can be !
I waited until midnight—you did not
come, and I have paced these corridors
until now. And nightair is full of fever.”
‘I say, where’s Concepcion ?"’
Mrs. James stiffened. So that was his
greeting after six hours’ weary watch.
“I am glay to say, Harvey, sheis no
longer in my employ. The portero found
her at the outside door at daybreak, evi-
dently able to stagger no farther, in from
some low debauch 2
‘Mother, has she gone yet 2”
‘Not yet, but she is packing up her
things and—"’
Harvey heard no more. He found Con-
cepcion tying up her little bundle of trink-
ets and clothes as neatly as her poor cut
fingers would permit.
Mrs. Harvey sank into a medicinal jour-
nal to drown there indignation.
“I say, ma. Concepcion and I are going
to get married. Ever since that day you
scolded so I ave fancied she was an awful
nice girl. And then, when a young lady
saves a fellow’s life he’s sort of honor
bound to marry her. At least. according
to all the novels I ever read, he is, and last
night——7"’
There is dust on the medicinal journals.
Mrs. James says grandchildren are ‘dear
little bothers,” and they have to be taken
care of. —By Irene A. Wright, in the Na-
tional Magazine.
Humming Birds Board a Ship.
About 200 of Them Swept to Sea In a Fog by a
Land Breeze.
A San Francisco dispatch says: A horde of
pirates boarded the steamer Walla Walla
just now in port here, when she was fifteen
miles off Cape Mendocina. There were
about 200 of them and they swarmed over
the vessel, laying about them to right and
left, and plunging their long swords into
everything that seemed of value. Their
gorgeous plumage fluttering about the deck
made the ship seem like a bird fancier’s shop
for these pirates were a big flock of hum-
ming birds with a stiff land breeze behind
them. They had burst suddenly out of a
dense fog, and alighted on the ves-
sel at dusk on Friday.
The birds seemed so nearly dead with
hunger and fatigue that they lost all fear
of human beings. They had probably been
driven off shore by the land breeze and
lost in the fog. Some of them perched
on the first solid articles they saw gave two
or three little gasps, and then tumbled
over dead. Some went straight for the
heads of “wo or three women passengers
who wore .owers in their hats, and began
buzzing about them as industriously as if
the flowers contained nectar. One flew in-
to the ear of W. S. McFarland and lodged
there so tightly that it could not
get out without assistance. Third-mate
Hogan caught one in his ear and one on his
moustache, and neither bird lost a moment
before it began to drill for food.
The captain and the passengers quickly
did all they could to care for the half stary-
ed creature. They brought out pans of
water and bread crumbs and lumps’ of sug-
ar, and the birds made haste to fill them-
selves. Some of them ate until they were
so full that they rolled over on their sides
and lay on the deck, blinking happily at
all around them. Lumps of sugar soaked
in water were their greatest delight, but
these they would not eat unless the lumps
were held in someone’s half-closed hand.
Captain Wallace held a lump of sugar in
his mouth and two of the birds buzzed
about his face and sucked at the sugar
greedily. The captain kept twenty of the
birds in his cabin over night, and many. of
the passengers had a dozen each in their
rooms. When the vessel was close to Point
Reyes the next day, most of the birds were
liberated, and as soon as they looked ahout
and saw land many flew directly to it. But
about fifty did not care to risk even so
short a journey over the ocean wave, and
decided to stick to the ship. But the sea
voyage, following the hardships and exhaus-
tion of the day before, was too much for
the frail little things, and they gradually
drooped and died. When the Walla Walla
came into port the captain still
had four humming birds alive, and the
passengers had as many more.
—— “What is your hushand’s politics 27?
asked the new neighbor.
“Jim?” said the lady addressed. ‘Jim ?
He's a anti.” ’
‘‘Anti-what ?”’
“No; not anti-what jist a anti. He's
agin anything that happens to be.”’—CQCin-
cinnalti Enquirer.
The Pennsylvania State College Before
the Present Legislature.
The fact that the Pennsylvania State
College, is before the present Legislature
asking for appropriations for carrying on
various branches of work that have hereto-
fore been curtailed for want of funds makes
anything that relates to that institution
and its prospects for success of interest to
Centre county people.
Among a ndamber of hills that have heen
presented with the hope of drawing the
State closer to the College and make the
College of greater service to the State is
“an act for the promotion of the agricul-
tural and dairy interests of the Common-
wealth and making appropriations for the
same’’ which has been introduced in the
House of Representatives by the Hon. A. L.
Martin, of Lawrence, and favorably reported
by the committee on agriculture by a
unanimous vote.
This bill makes appropriations to the
trustees of the Peunsylvania State College,
to enable them to provide the agricultural
department of the College with the necessa-
ry equipment for the proper and efficient
conduct of its work and to put it on a par
in this respect with the corresponding de-
partments of kindred institutions in other
States. The bill provides for the erection
and equipment of a dairy school building
and accessories to accommodate one hun-
dred students and also for an investigation
of the soils of the State and of its fruit-
growing interests.
The creamery and short courses at the
College have been in operation for the past
six years and in spite of very inadequate
equipment the number of students has
steadily increased until it became necessary,
last winter, to refuse several on account of
lack of accommodations. This work of the
College has received but very slight recog-
nition at the hands of the State. During
the past ten years the average annual ap-
propriation for the agricultural work of the
College has been equivalent to a tax of
three one thousandths of a mill upon the
agricultural valuation, (not the total valua-
tion) of the State. The relative amounts
appropriated for this and other purposes in
1895 are shown in the diagram. The
friends of agricultural education in the
Commonwealth propose, if possible, to
remedy this state of affairs and to have the |
school of agriculture of the State College |
worthy of the State and in keeping with
the magnitude of its agricultural interests.
It is to be hoped that farmers and dairy- |
men will cordially support this move in
their interest by writing to their Represen-
tatives urging the passage of this bill.
-|
In 1892 the short winter course in agri-
culture was inaugurated and in 1892 the
creamery and private dairy courses. These
courses have been attended by 193 students
representing fifty of the sixty-seven coun-
ties of the State, together with seven other
States. The steady growth of these courses
is shown in the folowing summary :
Creamery Short course & Total.
Course. Private dairy
Course.
Counties repre-
sented 42...
States other than
Betina. repres't’d %................ 6...
APPROPRIATIONS BY THE STATE.
The total appropriations by the State to
this branch of the work of the College have
been as follows :
|
Total $33,000
Or an average per year of $3,300. , This
is equivalent to the following amounts per
annum : :
For each farm in the State..................
For each 100 acres of improved land...
Per 1,000 gross agricultural prodaects
Per $1,000 agricultural valuation...............0.3
i. e. it is equivalent to a tax-rate of three
one-thousandths of a mill on the agricul-
tural valuation (not the total valuation) of
the State. Some of the appropriations
made by the Legislature of 1895, as com-
pared with those for agricultural education
are shown in the accompanying diagram.
..:.1.0 cents,
2.6
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
Starch and sugar are the stout woman's
enemies. Nourishment which tends to en-
courage flesh is found in all farniaceous
foods, such as rye, rice potatoes, oatmeal,
sago, ete. You will have to give up ma-
caroni and its companion, spaghetti.” Peas
and beans in the dried form are to be
avoided. Desserts are, as a rule. forbidden
especially those puddings made of tapioca
and cornstarch. If you have a sweet tooth
L. you will no doubt consider yourself a mar-
tyr when told that cake, pastry and pre-
serves are not for you.
If you are a great bread eater you are go-
| ing to have something of a struggle. All
| the bread you eat should be several days
old, and it will be the better for a brown-
ing. Limit yourself toa slice or two at
most. Hygiene bread is the best. It is
made from whole wheat flour. Those puf-
fy white rolls and that snowy loaf bread
that you dote on will have to be surren-
dered in the interest of the figure. I must
ask you to use salt in place of butter on
your bread. It is astonishing how soon
this seeming deprivation ‘becomes no de-
privation at all.
Yes, salt is an excellent makeshift.
Only a sprinkle is required. Some people
argue that coffee is not fattening. As long
as you are for reform coffee had better be
given up along with cocoa and chocolate
and milk. You can drink} lemonade, lime
juice and water, weak tea, hot water.
Cold water is a flesh producer> Hot water
a flesh reducer. The habit of sipping what
you drink will soon cure you of an abnor-
mal craving for fluids. Tn all cases it is
hygienic to drink but little while at the
table.
Remember that the flesh under which
you are groaning is not a natural condition
ut a form of disease as much so as the
measles and must be treated as such.
Then turn over each new table leaf with a
INCOME FOR EXPERIMENTAL WORK. |
The funds available for experiments in |
agriculture at the College are almost entire-
ly derived from sources ‘other than state ap- !
propriations. In 1894, according to official
returns to the U. S. Department of Agri- |
culture, Pennsylvania compared with the
three neighboring States of New Jersey,
New York and Ohio as follows :
Average of New Jersey, Penn'a. |
New York & Ohio. |
|
$28,925.25 |
Total income......
Divided as follows :
$48,091.06
From the U. 8 31.19 per ct. 51.86 per et.
© State, 61.07 5.19 3
¢ Fees, oo — + 37.16 i
¢ Sundries... 7.74 2 5.79 £2
160.00 100.00
This bill asks that appropriations be |
made for specific purposes in the pursuit
of agricultural research. This department
at the College having been greatly ham-
peicd for want of adequate buildings |
and equipment it is hoped that the mem- |
bers of the Legislature will realize the !
need of the great agricultural interests of |
the State and appropriate whatever |
funds will he necessary to carry on the |
work. =
CHARITABLE INsTiTuTioNs. .
UNDER STATE Conrror #2.000.061,
CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS
Nor UNDER STATE Conrror. #/792.843
3
STATUS AND WORK OF THE COLLEGE.
By the Act of April 1st, I863. accepting
the provisions of the act of Congress ap-
proved July 2nd, 1862, the Pennsylvania
State College became the official and recog-
nized agency of the State for systematic
technical education in agriculture, and has
remained the only such agency in the Com-
monwealth to the present time.
By the Act of April 25th, 1889, accepting
the provisions of tle act of Congress ap-
proved March 2nd, 1887, The Pennsylvania
State College also became the official and
recognized agency for investigation in agri-
culture in the interest of the farmer.
The College now maintains six courses of
instruction in agriculture, viz : The colle-
giate course, the special course, the short
course, 12 weeks ; the creamery course, 6
weeks ; the private dairy course, 6 weeks ;
the chantauqua course of home study.
In addition to this work of instruction in
agriculture it is also, in accordance with
the. act of April 25th, 1889, carrying on
extensive experiments and investigations
for the benefit of the farmers of the Com-
monwealth, for the details of which refer-
ence must be made to'its published reports
and bulletins.
Prior to 1886 there was but one course,
that in agricalture. During that time the
College graduated 39 students.
Since 1866 the agricultural course has
been one among several. There have béen
graduated from it fourteen students. Of
these, five are engaged in the work of agri-
cultural instruction or investigation in
kindred institutions and five are engaged
in farming. At the present time fiftecu |
young men are pursuing this course. |
PUBLIC Scrooes #11.000,000
APPROPRIATIONS
189597 ine
JSewooL or ficricui Tore B
10.000
FARMERS IKSTITUTES ll
S15.000
ART Fougarion
40009
Normat SHS ro
Prisons. AND Rerormarories
#673294
LarionaL Guara $700,000
The following is a summary of the items
included in the hill :
Dairy cchiool hitllding....ececiarsceersrsnncnre neared $40,000
Heating and ventilating apparatus... ~ 2.500
Dairy apparatus furniture, plumbing, ete... 5,000
Ice machine bees 1,200
Enlargement of steam plant 5,900
Enlargement of electric plant.. . £000
DIY . 1,500
Investigation of the soils of the state . 5,000
Investigations in horticulture.......... . 4,000
Implement shed and tool house.................. 1,500
Total 70,400
——Indiana is the last State heard from |
in the way of local elections. They were
held last Monday, and resulted in general
and decided gains for the Democrats. The
usual complaint was to the front that the
advance agent is a laggard, having propos- |
ed nothing yet to help the people but high- |
er taxes.
——Rev. S. C. Swallow is getting some
valuable information before the people of
this State in ‘‘The Methodist’’ as to the
costly methcds of furnishing state d buil-
ings. Evidently Mr. Swallow’s conviction
that he is right is stronger than the fear of |
libel suits. =
——1If the last Republican congress had |
made no larger appropriation than the pre- |
ceding Democratic congress there would
have been a surplus of $2,000,000 instead |
of a deficit of $25,000,000 in the last fiscal |
year.
THE A B C or IT.—A kidney education |
starts with : Backache means kidney ache,
lame back means lame kidneys, weak back |
means weak kidneys, cure means Doan’s |
Kidney Pills. Read about the free dis-
tribution in this paper, and call at F. Potts
|
‘Green’s.
—Twynn—I don’t think it is compli- |
mentary to call a man long-headed. |
Triplett—No, I don’t. See what a long |
head a donkey has. en
determination to keep it turned. To be
sure, your meats must be underdone, but
you have the choice of mutton and beef. -
You are allowed fish and poultry. All
fresh fruits are yours, save apples. Now is
the season of your content so far as vegeta-
bles are concerned. Tomatoes, cucumbers,
cabbages, cauliflower, radishes. Why enu-
merate? Fresh vegetables may be eaten
with impunity. a
If you are not fond of salads cultivate a
fondness for them. You will have to omit
oil, using vinegar and salt asa dressing.
A better substitute for a sweetmeat dessert
you cannot find. ‘There is a chicory and
lettuce, celery and cress, and as an accom-
paniment a cracker, with occasionally a
small cup of black coffee should this bever-
age be esteemed a great luxury.
|
A novel feature of the tailor-made cost-
umes this Spring is a smart little zouave
jacket worn over a fancy silk blouse or a
perfectly fitting waistcoat. These zouaves
are cut in several ways, but the newest is
very tight fitting, and the front pieces are
cut in slanting points.
They are edged with fancy inch-wide
braid, the sleeves and collar being orna-
mented to match. Another style has very
wide revers of a contrasting colored cloth,
elaborately braided with an inch-wide band
{ of velvet. This latter looks very well, in-
| deed, and a corresponding trimming on the
' pockets of the skirt is an improvement.
The sailor hat is too becoming to be al
I lowed to go out of fashion, but this season
it is so loaded down with trimming that ‘it
bears little resemblance to iis original self.
| Of course during midsummer the plain
untrimmed hats of this shape will be worn
! by young girls, and even by some of the
‘older women, although the latter do not
{ patronize them so much as a year or two
| ago.
There seems to be no fixed law as®to
- what kind of straw is the smartest in sailor
hats - the fine straws and the Panamas
| seem rather more popular, but there are a
: great many of the rough braid. The under
[ brim is now covered with a cream net, or
. bound with velvet, or made of a contrast-
| ing color, and the top or crown is fairly
| loaded down with flowers. Roses, prim-
[ roses, lilacs (purple and white), gardenias,
; and cowslips, all and many more are used,
| and the stiff bows of ribbon or velvet
| which are interspersed give the needed ef-
| fect of height. = All the hats have the brim
| turned up at the back, and flowers galore
are put in so as to rest against the hair.
* A smart sailor hat of fine black straw has.
a brim faced with white, and bound with a
roll of black velvet just at the edge.
Quantities of pink roses cover the crown
and are put under the brim at the back,
while stiff narrow bows of white ribbon
and black velvet are put in among the ros-
es. Another hat, the same shape, is of
blue straw trimmed with red carnations
and black and white ribbon bows, while at
the back are knots of bright red gauze in-
stead of the flowers.
In Panama a charming model has a nar-
row brim bound with black velvet; the
crown is encircled with roses of differeut
colors, looking as natural as though just
picked. At the left side are narrow ends
of black velvet, and 4t the back the brim
is entirely covered with bunches of pink,
yellow and red roses, closely massed to-
gether.
Quite in contrast to these flower-gardens
is a hat of the sailor shape with black brim
and the crown of black and white—a differ-
ent straw. This is trimmed with black
ribbon velvet and at the left side a bunch
of stiff black quills. At the back under
the brim are black velvet rosettes. The
effect is odd, smart, but yet not becoming
to every face, as the lines are decidedly se-
+ vere.— Harper's Bazar.
Plaid taffeta blouses are the rage in Paris,
worn with turn-over collars and cuffs of
hemstitched linen, and cravats ‘of the silk
with hemstitched edges. With these waists
belts of black silk are worn, with elaborate =
gold buckles.
Two and a half inches is the proper
depth for the flounces on wash summer
frocks. ~The flounces are six in number
and they are placed upon the skirt in
curves, instead of straight, as formerly.
The curve is deep ; for instance, the upper
flounce would be half a yard below the
| waist in front, and nearly touch the belt
in the back. The five flounces below fol-
low the same curve, one under the other.
The space above the hem left uncovered at
the back may be filled in with one deep
flounce, but this is entirely optional. This
| method of arrangement adds to the height
of the figure, and gives the effect of a round-
ed apron or ‘‘tablier’’ in the front.
The picturesque. girl who dresses in
quaint gowns of lieary fold, high, round
neck, and long beruftled sleeves, will buy
a wide belt of tapestry with medieval
buckle, picturing in enamel a knight rid-
ing to tourney with his sweethearts colors
worked in his shield. Neither wide
nor very narrow belts are much worn.
The graceful medium being far more
fashionable.