Brewer iatcvan Bellefonte, Pa., June 19, 1908. MY BABY. I take up a little cambric dress, Trimmed with ruffles and edged with lace And a dainty cap with cobweb frill, But where is the baby face? And there is a pretty petticoat, Embroider'd flannel scarcely worn, And a blue worsted sacque that Aunty kais, But where has my baby gone? There's a big rough boy in corduroy pacia, With blue eyes ready to wink, And a patch of dirt on his dimpled cheek — A study in India ink. His strong young arms are around my neck, He kissed mother with a will, And I lay down my dainty things with « smile For he is my baby still, — Brehange. “NON OMNIS mMORIAR, Dr. Minot Oshorn was an early riser, nos #0 much because he was imbued with she bustling spirit of New York as because he bad formed she habis in his boyhood days on an up-State farm. Consequently as eight o'clock be bad already fin his breakfast and was reading the paper at his office desk, when a footman brought in the letters. Methodically he sorted them into four classes, business, “‘G. P.’s,” friends, unknown, and read them in exactly thas order. Occasionally he stopped so make notes on his e ent pad and for his reared ue very last letter of all he as the most uuprepossessing. th a tolerant, whimsical, slightly bor expression on bis keen face, he cat open the unquiet blue, beavily-scented envelope, and began reading indifferently. Suddenly there was a contraction of arrested atten- tion about the muscles of his mouth and eyes. He turned to see the signature, only to find, as he bad expected, shat the lester was anonymous. Once, twice, he read it through carefully, and when at last he laid is down his bad grown gray and old. A sudden spasm of pain drew his band instinctively to his hears. Quickly be opened a small bottle in she shallow front drawer of his desk and swallowed a tablet. Then he sat supporting his face in his hands till she physical agony had Jared. His eyes, otill dull with suffering, ell on the letterhead on bis office station- ery— DR. Mixor OsBORN DR. KEENE OSBORN —and his face was farrowed with thought. As last be looked up to she clock and touched the bell for his man. ‘‘Has Mr. Keene finished his breakfast?’ be asked. ‘‘He is at the table now, sir.” ‘‘Ask him to come to me directly be has finished.” Ounce more he read the letter, and then eat thinking until his pephew, adopted son and partoer entered she room. ‘‘Good morning, governor. eaid you wanted to seeme?"’ Keene Osborn was as stalwart and good- locking as his unele. His face bad much of the same strength and keenness, but its assurance was rather that of ne whose way has been mede easy than of one who bas hewn out a pathway for himself. There were telltale lines ahous his eyes, nos of the sort uired by the expenditure of studious midnight oil. All this Dr. Minot Osborn remarked before be spoke. “Good morning, Keene. Yes, I did wan’t you? Youn will be ready to go with me to the hospital at eleven for that big operation?’’ *‘Ob, yes.’’ The youngman’s face lighs- ed with professional zeal. *‘If shat suo- ceeds, governor, no doctor in town can im- peach your attitude.’ ‘And you are to assist me. Is your band steady? You look a his seedy to me.” Keene flushed. *‘I was up late last night doing foolish things, dad. Rut I'm perfectly fis.” ‘Doing foolish things?" repeated the older man. ‘Do yon think you can afford is, Keene?" “I hope I know my limit. That's the whole hawtle, vou know.” ‘Yes, if one could he sme! I don’s want topreach. my hoy. We've always heen comrades rather than uncle and nephew, father and son. 1 have believed in you wholly aud trosted you, haven’s I?" “Indeed you have! And sometimes I've been worthy of your trast and sometimes I baven’s. That's the truth.” ‘Oh, I suppose 80. From the vantage ground of a physician's fifs, eight years one ees human natare as it is. One doesn’s expeot the impossible. Young blood is hot and temptations are many. Bat the point ie just this—one must occasionally draw up sbarply and analyze the situation. One must ak of his work, of his pleasures, his relaxations, diesipations if you will, the simple little question: ‘Is is worth while?’ Time 1s tragically limited—one must throw overboard so much which is immaterial, even detrimental, in order to accomplish the work which counts. Do I seem & prig to Jou, Keene?" ‘Far trom it, dad! You know I admire you heyond anyone on earth.” “Oh,” Dr. Minot Osborn; ‘‘but there’s Margaret!" ‘*No,”’ announced Keene, with grim in- cisiveness, ‘‘there isn’t Margarets any longer.” The older man looked at him in shocked surprise. ‘My boy! since when?" “A wi ago.” ‘‘And you dido’s tell me?" ‘No. I—the truth is I didn’t want to explain. Some time I will. Let us go back to what you were saying." Dr. Osborn thought fora moment, then waved the matter aside. “We were of your feeling for me, Keene. Iam glad you do not think me a prig. I suppose I nay claim some eminence as physicians go. Top eerok rich tv, bunch, dad!” Tototpoisted ‘Very well,” smiled Dr. Oshorn, ‘‘you are a prejudiced observer, bus we'll les that pass. I am going to give you the secret of whatever success I may have at- tained. Here {i is: I bave always striven to follow my prompt instinet to eliminate the unprofitable. I'm not sure that thas isn’t the seorst of any man’s success.’ Iva well put, any how, dad. I ehall not “‘Somehow,’’ the older’man smiled with almost maternal affection at his nephew, “I'm feeling a bit anxious about Keene. We've been peculiarly alone for Dawson twenty years, and I, since your father 804 my ite dled You couldn’ be more tome il you were my own son. Now we are brother physicians and partners. I have | perfect. AR rut Pryvigian for what is highest I in the profession. In the course of things I must die and leave the pame and work ¥* you. A physician is bound to put the best staff he’s got in bim into his work un- less he’s a poltroon. We are scheduled for saving men's bodies ; it humbles me some. times to realize that we do almost more for men’s sons. We've got to bave in order to give ; we've got to be hefore we can do. I thivk you realize this, Keene ?"’ “I do, governor, when I stop to think. You are playing Hamlet to my conscience with a vengeance. ‘Thou surn’st mine eyes into my very soul I" “I want to, Keene. When a man has lived for his work, bas staked everything he is or hopes to be on the structure he has reared, it is nnspeakably gratifying to be able to ray, ‘I die, but my lifework lives in my son ! Nou omnis moriar I" Keene's face was very serious, his uncle's lamivons. Th at each other until hoth the de of she one and the vow of the other were registered in high beaven. “Youn don’t need to speak, my hoy.” said Dr. Osborn at last, gravely. ‘‘Isv’s all hs.” ty moved in his chair and she tension of the interview was over. “By the way, Keene,'’ he said, *‘this has ad 10 say to yon for a long time, bus it was precipi this morning by an unpleasant communication’’—he smiled deprecatingly—‘‘from a highly soented individual. You'd better read is, I think, though the anonymous writer im. pleted secrecy after the ahsurdisy of ber ind.” He raised the letter gingerly from his desk. ‘‘Really,” he went on, “I'm surprised you baven't noticed the oe of this missive. ‘It smells to heaven !'"’ At sight of the blue envelope, Keene started and frowned. ‘‘Hae she dared to write you, too, dad * Why, that's the trouble with Margares. She wrote ber. It’s the spiteful revenge of a second woman—that’s all.”’ “Read it, please.” Keene flushed deeply as he obeyed, bis uncle watching him closely meanwhile. “That does put me in a nasty lighs, doesn’s it?’ be declared grimly. ‘‘The worst of it is one can’t a woman's tongue. It she were a man, I'd soon find a way. “I think perhaps we have just decided on the best way possible,” said Dr. Osborn quietly. ‘‘As your ageit is not bard to live down a past, ow much of that is true, please ?"’ ‘‘Moss of it, though it’s putin the worst possible form for me.’ “Even the gambling ?"’ . “Yes.” ‘‘How about knowing one’s limit ?"’ ‘One has to exceed it sometimes at firs, to find just where it lies, dad.” ‘Yes, that's true. Have you found your bearings ?"’ “I think you bave shown them to me, The past is dead, I hope.”’ ‘Very well, my boy, I more than hope —I believe. Now bow about Margaret?" Keene's face set sternly. “Could anyone blame her ?"’ he acked. ‘No, I suppose not. Bat you are to be blamed if you acquiesce. It is only a sroall part of you which rioted so shame. fully. You know aod I know that you aren man! Margaret ie worth a good fight. She ie young and therefore intoler- ant. Youth draws only sharp distine- tions.” “Dad, you're a brick! Think of your taking it like this. Most fathers would bave rowed me ont of the house.’’ Dr. Oshorn smiled whimsically. **It’s all iv baving a sense of proportion. A man with a chin like yours is bonnd to win out. Have a talk with Margaret and get her to take youn hack on probation. It will flatter her youthful desire tobe a reformer—and she love of a girl like that is no mean inspiration for a man.” ‘You're dead right, dad,” said Keene gravely. “Good luck, then !” Dr. Osborn turned to his papers. Then he pat ous bis band and gripped Keene's. ‘We'll meet at the hospital. I'd like you to be with she patient daring the etherization.” ‘“‘All right, governor, and thank vou I” Promptly at eleven Dr. Minot Osborn entered the operating theatre. The case had heen widely heralded, and the marhle tiers of seats were crowded with visiting phyvicians, students and purses. Keene and swo young iuternes were to assist him iu performing an intricate and almoss un- precedented operation, the only hope of saving the man’s life. The faces of the on- lookers were correspondingly serious and intent. Dr. Osborn asked a question or two of the head puree, then taking the record from an orderly and referring from time to time to the notes, he lectured on the previous history of the case. The man was brought in and placed on the table. Keene took hix position opposite his uncle. The older and younger physi: oians looked singularly alike in their sterile gowns, and with their faces aglow with professional zeal. Dr. O<horn lectured as he worked, until the critical point in the operation was reached. Then a breathless silence fell in the room, broken only hy the drip of water and the sharp click of steel instruments. Jast as Dr. Oshorn raised his hand to make the oy) Belicate ingieton od Whieh the success of the operation . 8 sudden grayness spread over bis face. He alone knew what that grayneee involved, ‘Keene ! quick I'’ be gasped, and held out his scalpel, then sank, an inert heap, on the floor. Keene's voice broke the shocked, sus pended silence, olear, calm, reassuring. “Take Dr. Osborn out at once and give bim restoratives,’” he said to she orderlies. ‘Dr. Warren''—he spoke to a physician in the audience—‘‘will yon go to my anole, ease ? Dr. Marshall’’—to one of the nternes—‘‘you will assist me.’ The pause in the on was only one of seconds. Taking his uncle’s place in- stantly, controlling his nerves, forbidding heart or thoughts to follow that lifeless form, speaking as if nothing bad happened when he found is necessary to explain his movements, the young doctor went on with bis uncle's work, displayi lievable skill and dexterity the breathless, shocked interest of the spectators tense and absorbed. aly when the len ih had been taken with every prom sucoess, carefully applied, did a gasp of awful relief pass through the audience as it it came involuntarily from Keene drew a deep breath, stricken,awakening glance over their then turned and burried from the room, “Whereis be ?"' he demanded. In silence an orderly pointed to the doo- tora’ dressing-room. Assight of him Dr. Warren and a nurse stepped outside and let Keene enter alone. The agony on the face of the man vi a bad passed, and Keene down on the marble peace of hie When he came out again Dr. Warren was waiting. Keene's control was still “Did be regain consciousness?’ be asked. “For ome moment only. His eyes and when I leaned down to cateh bis worde he whispered, ‘Keene—finish— work.’ I assured him you were going on with the operation. Then Lis hears ceased to heat.” The teats sprang to Keene's eyes at last. ‘‘He meant more than thas, Dr. Warren. How is is possible to finish she work of such ae he ?” Dr. Osborn's own physician came hurry. ing down the corridor. “Where is he ?'’ he also demanded. “It’s all over, Dr. Cameron,” said Keene quietly. “Why did you never warn me?" =r Cameron wrung the young man’s “I wanted to, Keene.” be aaid, ‘‘but your uncle wouldn't hear of is. It has been im ing for monthe. He wouldn’s have is come otherwise than in the course of she day's work. I shink.”” A gleam came in the old doctor's eves. “They tell me finished tbe operation as if nothing occurred, Keene.” “Of course.” “Then I don’t think your uncle had much to regret. You are a hero, sir I" ‘“‘And you praise a man for being decent alter living with that man for twenty years I"” protested Keene reproachfully. That night when everything bad heen done that could be done Keene eat in the library by the side of his dead, appraising the past, realizing the present, trying to focus the future. A footman entered silently with cards on his tray. ‘““Are they waiting below 2” Keene, after a surprised scrutiny. “Yeo, Mr. Keene.” “I will come down.” When tbe door had closed he stood look- ing at the calm face. “It's Margaret, dear old dad,” he whis- pered. ‘‘She wouldn’s let me hear it alone. Aren't you glad, governor? Tell me!" Then be surned away and wens down- stairs. Margaret’s father stood waiting in the hall below, and gripped Keene's band. ‘‘My boy,’’ he said, ‘‘I have no words to tell you how I sympathize with yon, or bow I admire your beroism today. Let Margaret speak for us both. She made me He pointed to the re. “I'll step into the of- asked bring her to you.” oeption room door. fice and wais.”’ No words were spoken when Keene en- tered the room. Only Margaret came straight to his arms. Afterward when be came upetaire again be stood once more looking down at she magnificent marble face. ‘It’s all right, governor, all right !"’ he said. ‘‘I have Margaret and I bave your wonderful life. You won't altogether ais 'eeBy Harriet Gaylord, in the Smart No woman should accept the diseases and disorders of the delicate womanly organs, which #0 many women suffer from until the lass resource bas heen exhausted. Many a woman has appealed from the help- less, hopeless verdios of she local physician to Dr. Pierce and had that verdict entirely set aside. A new verdios has been rendered aod that verdios awarde the woman sound health. In over thirty years Dr. R. V. Pierce, assieted by his staff of nearly a score of specialists, has treated and cured more thao balf a million women. Siok women, ily those suffering from jong standing d of womanly organs, are invited to consuls Dr. Pierce. hy letter, Jree. All correspondence is strictly private and racredly confidential. Address Dr. R. V. Pierce, Buffalo, N. Y. Official Precedence. The Chicago Inter Ocean tells of the daughter of a well known representa- tive who on her tenth birthday had a party, and one of the guests was the daughter of a senator. The birthday cake shone gloriously with ten candles. A few weeks later the senator's daughter reached her eighth milestone, and a party was In order. Just before the guests arrived the small celebrant betook herself to the dining room to take a look at the festal board. High on Its pedestal of crystal stood the birthday cake, and circling its snowy circumference were eight tiny candles. one for each year. “One. two. three, four, five, six, seven —eight!” ejaculated the small hostess. “Mamma, mamma, please come here quick. They've only put eight candles en my birthday cake, and my father’s a senator! Now, Mary had ten candles on her birthday cake, and she’s only the daughter of a congressman.” Quick Wit. Napoleon was pacing up and down one day before his quarters, planning probably some new scheme of con- quest. He dropped his glove, and a common soldier happening along pick- ed it up and returned it to him. “Thank you, captain,” said the em- peror absentmindedly, not thinking that the man was only a private. “Of which company, sire?’ put in the soldier promptly, taking Napoleon at his word, “Come to me tonight and you shall receive your commission,” said the great commander. He knew that that common soldier bad the presence of mind necessary to make a good officer. In the “Coaching” Days. An amusing story is told of the coach which used to run between Edinburgh Origin of Yankee Pronunciation. It was these historic Suffolk families who in the seventeenth century took over with them to America the pecul- far Suffolk pronunciation out of which has developed the modern seminasal Yankee twang.—London Spectator. Very Sharp, Teacher—Now, Johnny, if the earth were empty on the inside, what could we compare it to? Johnny—A razor, ma'am. Teacher—A razor? Johnny— Yes, ma'am; because it would be hol- low ground. Fearful Tortures. Nome years ago | was a’ teacher in Afghanistan, and during my stay in that country | was often an unwilling witness of some horrible exhibitions of torture. Here is one they use in the case of women to extract testimony. It consists in prying off the finger uriis by means of a small chisel or braa awl, which Is shoved in slowly. but firmly, from the finger tip down- ward under the quick of the nail. which is then lifted up and out This is another that | once saw used in the case of a small child who would not own up to some petty theft: Sticks were thrust between Its flugers and the fingers then squeezed together, so that the sticks crushed into the bones. So much for women and children. Here is a method of eliciting informa- tion from an unwilling man: The cul prit Is stripped to the waist, and then boiling oil is flicked on to his back. This seldom falls to find the man's tongue. The above are the chief forms of “fahana.,” or torture, for the purpose of eliciting Information. but it must be stated that such inflictions as nip ping of noses, tearing out tongues or splitting eyeballs do not come under the heading of “fahana.” they being punishment» rather than tortures.— London Standard. Duchesse and Anarchist. Upon one occasion the Duchesse d'Uzes and Louise Michel met at the bedside of a poor sick woman whom they were mutually aiding. They met here frequently for a brief period. The woman died. Louise Michel, who was present at the death, wrote to the duchesse: “Madame—Our poor friend is dead | have looked among her few belongings for a souvenir for you. Here is a small plece of pussementerie done by her hands. Accept It” A few days afterward Mme. la Duchesse @'Uzes, nee Mortemart. went to the home of Louise Michel. the anarchist —a bizarre abode at Levallois where the poor found always both a good word and a plece of bread—to thank the “red virgin” for her letter and her gift. A friendship so was cemented between the oddly assorted pair that was later not without result in the operation of the most gigantic chari. of the Duchesse d'Uzes—Boulangerism, ~Harper's Bazar, He Left at Once. He had been worshiping her for months, but had never told her, and she didn't want him to. He had come often and stayed late—very late—and she could only sigh and hope. He was going away the next day on a holiday. and he thought the last night was the time to spring the momentous ques- fon. He kept it to himself, however, until the last thing. It was 11:80 by the clock, and it was not a very rapid clock. “Miss Mollie,” he said tremulously, “l am going away tomorrow.” “Are you?" she said with the thought lessness of girlhood. “Yes.” he replied. “Are you sorry?’ “Yes, very sorry,” she murmured. “l thought you might go away this evening.” Then he gazed at the clock wistfully and said good night.—Loundon Scraps. The Power of the Whale. If the whale knew its own power, it could easily destroy all the machinery which the art of man could devise for catching him. It would only be neces- sary for him to swim on the surface in a straight line in order to break the thickest rope, but instead, on being struck by the harpoon, he obeys a nat- ural instinct. which, in this instance, betrays him to his death. Not having an air bladder, he can sink to the low- est depths of the ocean. and, wistaking the harpoon for the teeth of a sword- fish or a shark, he instantly descends, this being his manner of freeing him- self from these enemies, who cannot bear the pressure of a deep oceun. and from descending and ascending In small space be thus puts himself in the power of the whaler. The Popinjay. The origin of the application of? the term “popinjay” to a dude was as fol- lows: The popinjay was a figure of a bird shot at for practice. ‘The jay was decked with particolored feathers 80 as to resemble a parrot and, being suspended on a pole, served as a tar get. He whose ball or arrow brought down the bird by cutting the string by which it was hung received the proud title of Captain Popinjay for the rest of the day and was escorted home in triumph. He Had Not Forgotten. Artist William M. Chase told a story of the eccentric Jimmy Whistler. It was at a dinner party after all the guests had been seated, when Chase gently drew Whistler's attention to the fact that he bad forgotten his tie. “Forgotten 7’ shrieked Whistler, “Noth- ing of the kind. Why should I spoil the effect of a good linen collar, with excellent lines, by sticking on a foolish little plece of flimsy lawn?” And the dinner proceeded. Unfeeling. “Bilger eloped with his cook, the un- feeling wretch!” “Well, | don't know. Why shouldn't he if he wanted to?” “But his wife was just going to give a dinner party.”— Life. A Pretty Sure Sign. Mrs. Hoyle — 1 believe that I am growing old. Mrs. Boyle—What gives Fou that idea? Mrs. Hoyle—I am get- ting so that 1 don't care to go to fe. perals.—Exchange. In the philosophy of some men heav- en is nothing but a place where every- body will be able to buy cheap and sell high.—Chicago Record-Herald. FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN. DAILY THOUGHT. Do you wish the world were better ? Let me tell you what to do : Set a watch upon your actions, Keep them always straight and true. Rid your mind of selfish motives ; Let your thoughts be clean as dew. —[Selected. A vew material on the markets is a showerproof foulard —a light silk so pre- pared thas the sudden rainstorms will not burt is. Isis foretold as a great favorite for summer clothes, for nothing is so un- pleasant a= having to carry an ambrella, and when one cau depend upon her dress resisting the soaking summer rain is wil! 008 he necessary to vensare forth for storm. This vew material is shown in almost every color, castor brown and gray being especially good. They are arranged in the regular foulard designs. The idea is decidedly new, aud in time we expect to bave every dress material rainproof. One of the novelties of the season isa live of linen just inside the revers of a jacket, which gives ita clean and ness appearance that nothing else so small could possibly do. This is really a very good idea, and one that may be carried ont in many attractive ways. For instance, if one’s suit were a plain black and 18 looked too dark for the season, one mighs easily add a lissle line of cerise or magoeta, which would brighten the whole and take away that mourning look to which so many peo- ple object. Linen bande are especially used on suits for girls between 12 and 15 years, Both voiles and the rough silks, which will share popularity for early spring wear, are to be had in charming bordered effects, A design shat bas been seen in both shese fabrics isa border of graduated dots in shadowy effects, deeper tones of material color. One of the French sample costumes in a recent consignment was of this order. It was fashioned with a tunic in shawl drapery fashion. The square front and tap prints on the sides fell over a closely kilted flounce, which bad every appearance of being an underskirs of full length. The dotted design, in thie instance ow) gray. formed the border at the extreme edge of both skirt and tunic Usually the under- skirt is of the plain material and the border design reserved for tunic, and in general this order of things is more effect. ive. However, the bodice was draped across the border of dots, so arranged as to form a straight yoke with a tiny V-sbaped insetting of lace and a lace stock. The top portion and cuffs of the sleeves were of the dotted goods. It ie really quite remarkable to note the number of dainty artiolés that can be fashioned from handkerchiefs, both large and small. The bacdana is capable of oreating the larger articles, and the smaller ones can he made from the regular smaller size of the dainsier variety. Three large bandana handkerchiefs, which mass be really large, in fact twenty- 8ix inches square, as nothing smaller will do, are required for the jumper apron. For the jumper portion cnt ont a ciroular piece thirty inches in circumference, and hem the edges carefully, using the piece cut ons for the pocket. Fold vne dkerchief through the centre and out in ball, cutting a portion from each balf to be used for the band. Join the larger pieces together gather, and attach to the hemmed edge of. the remaining handkerchief to form a raffle. Gather the Spper edge of the apron and adjust to band. The jumper section is fastened to the apron, with one poins over- lapping the belt in front, and the back is pinned to position with the bels, after is is slipped over the bead. Five sixteen inch bandkerchiefs are util- ized for hig pretty garment. To make is, lay four kerchiefs together to forma tquare, and stitch or overbavd three of them together, leaving the edges free for a espace of two inches toward the centre. This is for the neck edge and will allow for the corners to be tuned hack. Now attach one end of the remaining handker- chiefs to one of the free edges which you have lefs open. The five handkerchiefs are now attached. The middle one forms she back of the jacket, and will fall in a point below the waist line. The ones on either vide of the back, are simply 1acked together at the lower edge of the joining to form the sleeve effect, and the front just meets, or laps a lisile according to individual taste. For the infant's cap a bavdkerchief of very fine quality, having an embroidered edge, and two and one hall yards of inch wide ribbon are required. Fold the band- kerchief straight through the centre, then fold is once the other way, making is Sua an one-quarter the original size. This will leave one edge, showing two folds ; begin at the corner, and overhand the two folds together fora distance of three one half inches, fasten securely sod turn right side ous. Fold back the corners, lift up oue of the long edges for the head portion, and tack to position with the turned back edges. Gather slightly across the lower edge of back. Fasten bows of ribbon on the sides, and as she lower edge to tie under the chin, and you will bave an exceedingly dainty and practical cap. As a mode of trimming, some of the Adiation effects are Schisvcd with these smal es. They make the prettiest of flounces for fine underwear, the plain hemmed or scalloped edges being used as preferred, and shaped in varions ways. There is no season of the year when one oan be eo beautifully dressed at such a reasonable cost as in the summer. Dainty organdies, swiss novelties, lawn, dimi pritsted madras and ginghams may be n lovely shades and designs. Nothing is more suitable for warm weather either for shirt waists %0 be worn with heavy linen or cloth skirie, or for whole dresses. ering they will look like new oult one to acquire, as needed than the a —It is a mistake to overfeed or under feed. ~The late peas should be planted a 80 that shey will stand the dry spells per: ter. —Some farmers apply common salt to their radish patches, and claim that they bave fewer wormy radishes. —Don’t be discouraged if you cannot make your farmiog experiences measure up to she institute lectarer’s “‘dreams.”’ —A New Jersey farmer cays that og wood will be made easier and with progress, if she casting is done most- ly with the inside corner of the ax. —The most unfortunate man on earth is the farmer who fails in every thing he aoderrakes, yet holds perristently to the belief shat his own methods are best. —The careless, indiflerent farmer whose products are marketed in a filthy, unastrao- tive condition is in a hopeless minority, aud coght 10 conse over on the side of de- ocency, or quit the farm. —I% bas been found that poultry with deep angular breasts bave to he fed longer to make them lock well, and will, there- fore, eas a great deal more feed shan the one with a plump breast bone. —Economy 18 the necessary outgrowth of dull, unprofitable times. Avoid waste. Tarn useless products to acconus. For- tanes have been made by finding markets for by-producse on the farm, once regarded as useless. —The bull should be fed good, nourish- ing food, bus not of a fattening nature. There should be some sors of roughage along with the corn, oats or bran he e He should be thrifsy, bus not fat; active, but nos sluggish. Profesvor Gilbert, of the Canada Station, says she best way to get heifer calves is to bave an old, slow ball—the slower the better—with plenty of work to do; if balls should be kept, and care should be taken not to overwork them. —Oune good hired man, who will treat a horse as a gentleman and a cow asa lady, aod bonestly devote himself to his em- ployer’s interest, is worth swo of the other sort. This is the time to hire such 2 man for the coming year and then keep him. —A medium loamy soil is preferred for beets, but the vegetables can be grown under a great variety of conditions, light soil being good for the early crop, while a soil thas is positively wet will give as good resulte as could be expected of any roos orop. —I¢ must not be forgotten that the ma- pure from the herd is an important item in counting the profits. It bas a money value that can be realized by using it on the laud, and itis worth the moet she way is is uoed. If allowed to become ex- to wind and weather, it will soon ose in value. ~—J ust as #000 as any crop of vegetables is finished in the garden spade the location, aod if any seeds are in the soi! many of them will spront. If so, go over is again, which will save much time and labor in the spring. Late summer and fall is the proper time to clean a garden, especially if weed seeds are to be gotten rid of, —Another good plant for background is the Giant Spider flower or Cleomene Puu- gens. This is a persistent bloomer and ite long spikey heade of pinkish purple and its deeply ont foliage are extremely showy, either planted in masses or as individoal specimens in the border. This is an an- ual and can be easily raised from seed. ~—Beets are handy and are not injured by cool weather. The tender varieties for the table are luxuries if grown rapidly and used before they become large and woody. The seed is sometimes slow in germina- tion, bus all vacant spaces in the rows may be filled in hy transplanting the plants that are growing together too thickly. —The Cornell station, after experiment. iog for several years, found thas potatoes dug the last week of September or the first two of October will keep much bester than those dug when the vines die. The only objection to this method is the possibility of she insects and grubs in the ground de- stroying the tabers if they are left in the ground too long. —A good plant for growing in the back of a bed is the Nicotiana Sylvestais, which is perbaps less well known than some of the other to I's snowy white blooms stay open all day and is bas big tropical leaves that are effective against a fence. With an edging of oolored plants such as ageratume or scarlet Phlox Drum. mondi is gives a charming color effecs. —Plan to give the boy and the girla chance thie year. Set apart an acre for the boy to work for himsel! and les him bave the proceeds he can make from is for his own. Start the girl with a stiawbenty patoh or a flock of chickens and let ber have the money she can make out of the business, and see what a difference is will make in the energy, industry and cheer- fulness of the youngsters. Try it. —Here it a rule that will generally hold good in setting the time for planting in the North. Isis worth ousting out and saving; When the peach tree is in bloom, sow peas, spinach, lettuce, corn, salad, onion sets, asparagus roots. When the pear tree blooms, plant all of the above, as well as radish, celery, carrot, beet, mus- oh Lr at oa parsnip. e e bloome, plant all of the above aisy. beajas, Siw, oncumbers, melons, pumpkin a. —Many a man is bly under she im- that the milk, as he is in the hab- i, of serving is, is clean; but there are times, and a great mony of them at thas, when he is ly mistaken. Asa test put some milk in ove of your cans snd put she id on hs. Place OAD Dear a stove and it to a temperature whioh will juss about allow you to put your hand 10 is. Pull the lid off and inte the vapor will soon let you know whether Boies Mowe Bo or nos. nde acre; yield un acre. 7.63 pon ~ io 13.38 tous, gain by use of nitrate,5 75 tons; per cent. of gain, 75.4;
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers