From the Cradle,
They tell me 1 was born a long
Three months ago,
But whether they are right or wrong
I hardly know.
I sleep, 1 smile, | cannot orawl,
Bat 1 can ory
At present 1 am rather small
A babe am |,
The changing Lights of sun and shade
Are baby toys;
The flowers and birds are not afraid
Of baby-boys,
Some day ['ll wish shat 1 could be
A bird and fy;
Al present 1 can’t wish—you see
A babe um 1
Frederick Locker.
Through Lite.
Batering lite, we come fearfully
Into the new and unknown,
Trembling and terrified, fearfully
Lifting lite's burden alone;
Braving its dangers more cheerfully
When we the stronger have grown.
Sill, like old earth so recaivingly
Taking the bad and the good
Taking, nor choosing, believingly
Ever the best as we could;
Sadly repenting, then grievingly
Striving to do as we should.
Long may we wonder suspectingly,
Ingrates whom passions enslave,
Seorntully, proudly, rejectingly
Serving the mercy God gave;
Nor look to Him who proteotingly
His arm forth stretohes to save.
Thoughtiessly, carelessly, musingly,
Playing at lite's checkered game;
Ever the tally-sheet losingly
Seoreth a list to our name;
Bravely our conscience accusingly
Stirreth our senses with shame.
Looking to conscience inguirvingly,
Thoughtiessness seemeth a sin;
Working and striving untiringly,
So must the battie begin;
Faith, hope and love will inspiringly
Peach us how life we may win.
May we our duty do darefully,
Strengthening, careworn, oppressed ;
Treading our way ever carefully
Thrown: h snares to home of the blest;
Hopetully, cheaiully, prayerfully,
Finding tn heaven a rest!
Striving with sin, sin easlavingly
Holding us ever so last;
Looking tor mercy most oravingly
Through the dark clouds sweeping past;
Tanderly, lovingly, savingly,
Jevus redeeoth, at last.
— Boston Transcript.
**WATCH THE BOX!"
»
The 6:20 evening express, No. 39, was
over an hour ate that night. Cause
enough, heaven knows. For twelve
hours the storm had raged, and now in-
stead of showing any signs of breaking,
thie rain came down in torrents from
the inky sky, and the thunder rolled
ominously overhead. A bad storm to
drive an engine through, as anybody
would have known, and the wonder is
that No. 39 was not three hours late in-
tead of one. Luke Granger, the trus-
tiest, nerviest engineer on the road,
rounded Lhe curve just below Red
Ravine station at twenty-six minutes
past seven, I breathed a sigh of relie!
when I saw the headlight cut a hole in
the darkness. Thestation bridge might
bave given away in 8 storm like that,
and I was beginning to get nervous ovex
this thought.
Somehow evervthing made me nerv-
ous that night. It was just the kind of
weather when things look all out of
fOar, shyway.
Then, I suppose, the knowledge of
that money package being due and fui
ing to come on the 11:30, as it shoul |
have done, had its effect on*me. I
didn't relish the idea of keeping $13,000
in cash until the next day. Eldridge &
Ricketson had been down themselves to
rueet the morning train, and if the
package had come [ could have turned
1% over to them at onc, and that would
have been the end of the matter. But
is didn't come. That's a way thing:
Lave in this world, when you most
want ‘em.
There wasn't a soul at the station that
night except myself, and there were
only two passengers who got off the
wrain. I speak of "em that way not
meaning to be disrespectful, or make
light of solemn things; only it's habit, I
suppose; for most people would say
there was only one passenger that got
off at Red Ravine, seeing that the second
of "ein was carried out of the ex press cay
in a wooden box. Usually when abody
was coming on [ got word beforehand,
but this one took me quite by surprise,
and added not a little to the nervousness
already felt.
“Who is it?” I asked, as the box was
earried into the station.
The passenger who had got off the
train, and who was a stranger to me,
answered my inquiry.
“The body is that of my sister-in-
Inw.” said he. “She was the niece of
Thomas Eldridge—doubtiess you know
him. Her death was very sudden. She
is to be buried in Mr. Eldrigde's lot
here.”
“Then I suppose the body is to be
left in my charge uatil to-morrow?”
said I.
** Yes,” answered the stranger. ** Do
you suppose that I ean get to Mr. El-
diidge’s myself to-night #7
“Wel,” 1 replied, “it's a good four
miles. and in such a storm as this—"
“I'll wait until to-morrow,” inter-
rupted the stranger. “There is some
sort of a hotel here, isn't there?”
“Yes, u good one. You'll have to
£204 it, though; but it's only a matter of
quarter of a mile, and you ean’t miss
your way, for the road up the hill leads
to the house.”
Here I made my way out to the plat-
form again and made my way on the
express car where the money package,
which nil along I had secretly hoped
wouldn't come, was delivered to me by
the messenger. As he gave it to me he
suid:
* You'll want to keep a sharp eye on
that, Billy. There's enough in it to
make one of your Red Raviners put a
buliet through your head, and never
give you the chance to ohject.”
“I'l look cut for the Red Raviners,
and the package, 100.” said I, confi-
dently enough. But if the truth had
been told, I didn’t like the ruggestion
which the messenger had made,
The train moved off quickly, and I |
swung my lantern, as was my habit, by |
way of bidding good-night to Luke |
granger. Then I went into the station !
house with the little package clutched |
tightly under my rubber coat, expecting |
to find the man there who had come on |
with the body. But he had gone, being |
wixious, no doubt, to get to the hotel |
as quickly as possible.
i
; ——————————
1
VOLUME XIII.
Hditor and Prop:
4
10 Le 11's
HALL, CENTR
K CO., PA.
i aa a i
JUNE
24,
1880,
NUMBER 24.
|
{ compartments, the larger one being for
freight and baggage, and the smaller
‘one for passengers. My own little
{ room was only a piece partitioned ofl
from the freight quarter, and ten feet
square, and connected by a door with a
box of an office in the passenger's room,
which served both for selling tickets
| and holding the telegraph kev. In this
| latter apartment, also, was placed the
old-fashioned iron rafe, in wiich
| locked up my valuable express packages
when any happened to come to Red
Ravine ‘he village, | ought to ex
| plain, had grown up entirely through
the influence of the great iron works ol
! Eldridge & Ricketson. There were rich
| beds of ore a few miles to the north, and
these, as well as the foundry, which
employed 400 or 500 hands, were con
trolled by the firm I have mentioned,
There had been some troubie at the
| works recentiy—a strike or something
| growing out of delay in paying the men
their wages. This is how it happened
hat the $13,000 ‘money package came
into my keeping for a night.
; when 1 had made all snug
and got off my wet
clothing, 1 sat down comfortably with
il.
I'he storm outside
1 more fierce.
were Cosy
that night, thin
of gear, as 1 have said
My pipe didn't soothe me a8 was i
try as I might, I couldn't get in-
terested in the newspaper; an uncom-
fortable feeling of dread--a feeling that
@
reading.
hut within, things
But
iN, as
be ny
is
morning. So my work for the night
wus done, and I had only to lock up the
newspaper in the little room which
served as my sleeping quarters.
found myself installed at Red Ravine a-
telegraph operator in the railway sta-
tion. Being content with the humdrum
sort of life, and faithful to my duties, I
and come by degrees to attend to all the
work which the place required. That
i£. 1 was ticket agent, baggage-master
wd keeper of the station, besides acling
#,r the express company and continuing
my charge of the telegraph key. These
erwbined labors made it pretty close
work for me, but they all yielded avery
cymfortable income; und as I was
t ‘oubled with no unsatisfied ambitions,
1 countéd'myseif well fixed. As I have
intimated, I slept in the station, partly
to keep guard on the company’s property
and partly from choice; being a bach-
¢lor and without kin, I had nothing to
attract me elsewhere. My duties had
grown a part of second nature, and 1
nad lived in the little town so long that
the younger generation had come to
speak of me as “Old Billy.” That was,
I suppose, because my hair was get'ing
gray and my joints a little stiff.
The Red Revine station was a wooden
buildirg, about forty feet long and
wwenty wide. It was di into two
i
{
i
i
t to happen— possessed my mind
t all comes from that pesky money
package,” 1 muttered to myself. “Why
11:30
iobh of keeping it here
ahou
tha
tie
h
and saved me the
overnight!”
Just at this moment came a terrific
vivid enough to make the jamp dim.
had locked up the package in the
and put the key—there was no combina-
tion lock—in my pocket. But { not
i
safe |
had
the largest faith in the security of the
old safe. It had occurred to me often
that a person could open it, even if he
wasn't askiilful eracksman. It was my
custom to leave my door open between
my littie room and the ticket oflice, so
that if Red Ravine was called on the
telegraph key I could hear it. The in-
strument had been clicking away at a
great rate for the past hour; but as it
was none of my business I had paid no
attention to what was going over the
wires I judged now from the nearness
of the lightning and the jerking sounds
of the instrument that the storm was
plaving the mischief with the messages
passed into the ticket office where a
jight was left burning, and stooa for
some time thinking whether the money
} be less exposed in
package would
safe thar it would be under the mattress
the
the Iatter would be the hardest for sny
possible thief to reach. So I took out
the heavy brown envelope and stowed
it away under the mattress.
Once more I sat down to my newpaper
and pipe, but with no better success
than before. The storm seemed now to
have centered right over the little sta-
tion. Peal after peal of thunder rent
the air, and the lightning played about
the sky like phosphorus on un inky back-
ground. If you have ever chanced to
be in a telegraph office during a thunder
storm, you may have seen the el
ity dash down the wires in a way to
make timid people nervous. Even
veteran operators, like myself, wouldn't
want to undertake to receive that sort
of message. I was tempted to close the
key, but the meaningless ticking nad =
sort of fascination for me in the mood 1. |
then was. :
To occupy myself about something 1
relighted] my lantern, went into thi
freight room, examined again the bolts
of the doors and the fastenings of the
windows, and returned to the room more
Justas |
was entering my own nest, the light of
the lantern fell squarely on the wooden
box. Oddly enough. until that moment
I had forgotten all aboutthe dead young
woman. Thinking so steadily of the
$13,000 had, I suppose, driven the box
out of my mind. Butl can’t say it was
any comfort to have it brought back
now; for a corpse is never the most
cheerful of company, and, feeling as |
did then, I would a great deal rather
have had no company at all.
It must have been the imp of the per-
verse, I suppose, that impelled me, after
the box had been brought back to my
mind, to leave the door open so that 1
could sit and stare at it with morbid |
curiosity. As I have already said, my
sieeping-apartment was partitioned off
from the freight room, and was con- |
nected with the latter by a door. The |
body had been placed in such a position
that when this door was open the head |
of the box was in sight. Two or three |
times I got up to shut the door, but |
some strange fxtality drove me hack to
my chair, and caused me to keep in view
the box with its sad freight. All this
time the storm raged, the thunder dis- |
charged its mighty batteries, the light-
ning flashed, and the mad ravings of the
t¢legraph continued. I caught my hand
iremoling as I tried to refill my pipe
Nervousness, no doubt; but possibly
an observer might have thought old
Billy was frightened. !
I had just risen to wind the littleclock |
18 eeeiric-
hitherto meaningless ticking of the in- |
strument sharply and distinctly came to
which in spoken words meant, ** Watch
the box.”
I started as it a charge of electricit
had shot through my trame. [I could
fairly feel my face grow white. stood |
motionless, clutching the back of my |
chair, and with my eyes riveted in a |
vacant stare at the table in the telegraph |
office. I knew this was no work of an |
excited imagination. The words, tomy |
pra “tical ear, were as plain as if shouted |
m clarion tones. There had come no |
call for Red Ravine, and the message |
ended without signature or mark, but
abruptly, as it had begun. More than
that, it was not the wr ting of an operas |
tor on any section of the line. I would |
have sworn to that with as much posi- |
voice with which you are familiar. In |
the dot and dash alphabet we learn to
distinguish who is handling the keys
almost with as much accuracy as others
And in all
my experience | had never heard the
sounder click off & message like that.
While I stood dazed and almost par- |
zed (for you must remember thatold
Billy's nerves were strung to a terrible
phe 1 that night) the rapid and uuintel-
igible click-click was resumed as if a
demon had again got hold of the key. It
was ully five minutes before I mustered
courage enough to pass into the tickel
office and sit down by the table myself.
Not once had I turned back to look at
the box. Almost at the instant of my
sitting down at the table the clicking
stopped short, as it had done before, and
then these words were repeated : “Watch
the box.”
1 sprang up from the table, and, with
the now strengthened conviction that it
was no delusion, no fancy, but that the
sound had come plainly over the wires,
I felt my courage returning, and re-
solved to heed the mysterious warning.
The rolling of the thunder and the mad
roar of the storm no longer depressed
me. I stepped boldly back into my
own room, and rested my eyes unflinch-
ingly on the mysterious box. What
was the mysterious freight? Why had
the phantom of the storm sent those
startling words over the wires? What
unknown hand had reached out from
the very lightning itself to warn me ot
some impending danger? These ques-
tions rushed through my mind as I felt
the dread fear disappearing and found
myself of a sudden growing strangely
trembled inserted the key, and wound
it composediy, Would it be the last
time that 1 should perform that simple
task? No matter. Happier than most
men, because content with my humble
lot should never be sald that old
Billy inched in the face of duty, For
that night it was my duaty—my one
snored, all-linportant duty- guard
the treasure left to my keeping And
guard it 1 would while life remained
When 1 had finished winding the
1 took down from the shelf an
oid rusty pistol w hileh had lain for vears
undisturbed. It was not {, nor
had i either powder or bullet anvywliere
in the station, Bat the weapon was an
uzly looking one, and carried a sort of
silent force in case of Wo aggressive
argument. After examining the rusty
lock, , put the pistol on the table,
lighted my p and-—-closed the door
that opened the freight-room
Now that thoroughly myselt
again, | found easy enough to shut
11
to
CIOUK
load eg
pe,
nto
Was
it
box,
1t was not until the clock struck again
that is eleven—that I made up my
mind to go to i. All the time the
storm held on, although the thunder
had begun to rumble more distantly, |
rew off my coat and slippers, put oul
e liglit in the ticket office, and turned
hat in my sleeping-room down to a low
flame. Then 1 drew the money pack
age from under the mattress and pinned
it securely to my woolen shirt under my
vest. ‘This done, and the table so placed
that I could reach bo i
nmp a
pistol, {opened the door into the frei
rooms some three or four inches and
then threw myself upon the bed. Just
as my head touched the pillow in
strument, which had grown quiet now |
olicked off for the third time, loudiy,
distinotly, slowly. its words of warning
“ Watch the box!”
his time the warning was not heeded
I had not gone to bed to sleep. but for
hed
t
4
th
}
th t
tl
ththe
5
the
it ¢
Standing as
r, and thervelore ciose to the
to tl I.
box itself, the bed afforded the very hest
point from which to keep an eye on
ight. Had my fat!
telegraphic clicking been less, or
my own sense of great responsibility de-
serted me for a single moment, I should |
given up the job of watching
hi, and in that case it is not likely
narrative would ever have
written. But I believed in the
repeated message, and did not let
drowsiness overcome patience, Twelve,
one, two-—-how very slowly the hours
sev med to drag themselves. The low
ie COG
suspleious ire
been
thried
&
€ Oil
What a relief it was to hear
strike! At
t, the storm had broken.
af Lhey came out,
through the window in the freight
room, which was on a line vision
with the box. How strangely still it
seemed after the mighty roar ot the |
storm and t harp clap of thunder!
Not a elink from the instrument now, |
Not a sound save the sturdy ticking of |
the clock Stili 1 iay listening, watch- |
ing, wi facuities all alert and my ey
always on the oblong box.
A
minutes, The
went dry
the «
¥ 1
KOOL
OCR ast, somewhere
inigh TH
I could see the st:
it me
rs
L
of
he 8
il
ia on
littie past two-—perhaps ten
silence almost painful in
its profoundness. Nothing but the tick-
tick of the clock, which, to my eager
ar, had taken on this sound, which it
kept repeating over and over
“Watch —the—box! Watch—
£!” What was that?
5:
Figs
Laat
bo
¢
&
strument. No, it was
the grating of iron. Faint, very faint,
yet stil andibie to my ear! Breathing
regular.y and deeply, as one breathes in
ieep, I lay nnd listened.
terval of silence, and tnen wue grating
sound came again, this time a trifle
iouder than before. The light of the
stars shining through the window made
the objects in the freight-room just visi- |
ble. Almost simultaneously with the
second grating noise 1 saw the cover of |
thie wooden box rising slowly from the |
conid feel my heart thumping away like |
a siedge-hammer, but 1 continued to
breathe heavily and te watch keenly
pressed upward until it reached an angle
irom my
view tae window beyond. A moment
iater the figure of a man cane out of the
shadows, while the box cover was .el
as noiselessly as it had been
raised,
This then was the burden of the box |
This was the meaning of the mys.
terious warning which the sounderbad
spoken.
With eat-like tread the figure moved
toward the door of my room. Stiil 1
iny as in deep sicep. » On the threshold
the figure paused, and in a moment |
later a single ray of light like a silver |
thread pierced the darkness and fell
upon the bed. Luckily it did not strike |
myface, and in an instant I closed my
eyes. As | had anticipated, the ray of
ight was directed toward my pillow, |
and by the gense of feeling I knew it
rested on my face. Satisfied that I was
in deep slumber, the figure, still with |
cat-like tread, glided turough the bed- |
{ato ticket office. My |
eves were wide open again by this time. |
The light from the dark lantern had in- |
creased, but its ravs were now turned |
toward the safe. Obviously the robber |
believed the treasure he sought was
there. 1 waited until he kneit down to
examine the lock, and then, with steps
the
i
So intent was he in examining
safe that iL. was not until I was
within reach of him that he heard
me.
He sprang to his feet, bringing the
glass of the lantern full into my face,
and reaching for his revolver, which he
Lad laid upon the top of the safe. Bat
he was too late. With the rusty old
pistol, held by its long barrel, deait
him a crushing blow on the head just as
his fingers grasped his own weapon. He
fell heavily without uttering a groan.
the
match and lighted the lamp in the office,
As its rays fell upon the upturned face
of the rotber I saw that blood was flow-
ing from the wound I had inflicted, and
I saw, too, that Lis ince was delicate in
its outlines and intelligent in expression.
I had time to notice no more, for 1 feit,
now that the danger was past, the need
of aid. So, after binding the uncon-
scious man's feet and arms and bathing
boots and overcoat and started in hot
haste for the hotel,
Half-way on the road 1 met a covered
carriage drawn by one horse. I took it
to he the turn.ont of Matthews, the
hotel proprietor, and wondering what
he could be out for at that hour,
shouted his name. I got no response.
Then 1 eried out at the top of my
voice:
“I've killed a burglar down at the
station!” Whoever was in the carrige
must have heard me, but the horse only
quickened his sharp trot, and disap-
peared in the darkness.
They give me a good deal more credit,
the people >f Ned Ravine, for thatnight's
adventure, than { dese;ve. And I do
not blame them for laughing at how
things carie out. For when a party of
us got back to the station my uncon-
scious burglar had disappeared, and
the tracks next morning showed that
the covered carriage wi Bo I had met
on the road had drawn up »t the plat-
form. Who was in it? Well, I A
swear, but [ have a notion tha’ it con-
tained vhe gentleman who had come on
with the body, At all events, neither
he nor the body was ever seen in the
town again. I had the satisfaction of
delivering the money package safely to
Eluridge & Rickeston, but the check
they gave me was not really merited.
For what would have happened had it
not been for the mysterious message
i
SOLDIERS’ DREAMY,
be Susceptible of Proof,
A week Rrevious to the batt of Fair
Oaks, a New York volunteer
of the
in the morning looking very glum and
downhearted, and when rallied about
his fancied homesickness he said:
“1 have only a week to live!
business for me and lots of others, A
week from to-day a battle will
fought and thousands will be slain
regiment wil
and I shall be killed while charging
across a field.”
The men laughed at his moody spirit,
but he turned upon them and said
* Your regiment will also be in the
fight, and when the roll is called after
the battle you will have nothing to be
merry
were here Inst night will be
among the trees I saw them
dead as plainly as I now you. Une
will be shot in the breast, and the other
in the groin, and dead men will be thick
wn
My
over
killed
se
The battle took place just a week after
The dreamer was killed in
every wan in the Third before the fight
was an hour old, and within
minutes after the two sergeants and six
of their comrades were dead in tl
woods, hit exactly where the dreamer
they would Ix More nity
men will bear witness to the truth of
talement
Just hefore the battle of Cedar Creek
ho was off dnty tem.
porari:y and trying to put in ]
sleep, dreamed that he went on a so
A mile to the right of our camp be came
t
said tian
a ll
$
he sought
when he heard voi
Lint the piace was
ie investigation he
ree Confederate scouts
then shell Pr,
fo
ust
anout
Of WAS
es and
dis-
sovered t already oo.
cupied After a
ascertained tial t
}
: place, he therefore move
The sentinel! awoke him with
a vivid remembrance of details
that asked permission to go over and
confer with one of th
the log barn was described to this man
he located it at once, having Pa Ese dita
dozen times Ti dreamer de
was,
the highway exactly as
| and turn, and the scout put
every hi
ch faith in the remainder of the dream
one '
i
and i
lie
€ S00LLs
stribed
y LOOK tour soldiers,
dreamer, and }
Three Confederate scouts werd
ike
ir ¥
areain
£¢1
PIROS
asleep in the straw, and were
Ti
o hundreds
lias
t
% wand
g lire
s
sv
I
(x
Al
Sheridan's In
uded
The
Brandy Station
ORVALrY
to at reunions
the eavalry fig}
a trooper who s¢ipt as
i coiumn
in hi
igh
!
Knee
dreamer
iat he took opportunity toad
captain and relate his dream.
“Go to Texas with your croaking!
was all the thanks he received, but
had his revenge. In the very first charge
xt dav, the captain was unhorsed by
wr breaking of the and was
pitched head over heels into a patch of
As |
i hie) and
i O18 Horse and
night before
¥
along in
certain oaptaan
hors VO ed
i that a
rom his
¥
eft
nextday, and while rising |
wouid be wounded the
$
£3 11k
in
th
$s
SFL
he
tl girth,
a she
men, ang one
mashed the
g to a bloody pulp. He
ident Ohio, and his
leg indisputable evidence
L dreams somelimas come LO pass
While MeCle Linn was hese ging Yor k-
town the fun was not all
Confederates had plenty of shot
and shell, and they sent them out with
intent to kill. One morning a Michigan
who was in the trenches walked
Ars IEgied out
Lwo
«4 of iron
of
is
On one side.
he
ut
were eating breakfast and warned them
that they were in great peril. On the
night previous he had dreamed that he
bind looked at his watch and marked
that it was a quarter of seven, whens
shell hit the ground behind hm and
It
besought the officers to leav
at once Hisearnest manner Induced
to comply, and they had only
reached cover when a Confederate shell
which a horse could have been rolled
with room to spare
Three days before affair
the
dreamed
the
al
cavalry that a
a white nose. Within five minutes both
horse and ri'er would be killed by a
This dream was related to more
than a score of comrades fully two days
Early in the action
in the forehead by a bullet and dropped
a biocod-stained "saddle, galloped up to
the sergeant and halted. He remem-
the animal, and soon after picked up a
biack horse. The white-nosed anaimal
was mounted by a second corporal in
another regiment, and horse and rider
were torn to fragments by a shell in
full sight of four companies of the
Sixth. These things may seem very
loolish now but there was atime when
dream saved General Kil-
patrick’s life; when a dream changed
Custer’s plans for three days; when a
dream prevented General Tolbert's
camp from a surprise and capture; when
a dream gave General Sheridan more
accurate knowledge of Early'slorces
than all the scouts, — Detroit Free Press.
Mustard,
The seeds of two species of mustard
(Binapis) are commonly used for culin-
ary and medicinal purposes, and are
known as black mustard sceds. The
flour of mustard, so extensively used as
a condiment, is prepared from a mix.
ture of the two kinds, usually in the
proportion of two parts black and three
parts white, The seeds are pounded and
the husks then removed from the flour
by sifting. It is remarkable that the
pungent principle for which mustard is
valued does not exist in the seeds, but it
is produced when the constituents of
the seeds are brought together under the
influence of water.
Internally, flour of mustard is used as
a stimulant, diureti» and emetic; ex-
ternally as an irritant and rebefacient.
White mustard seeds are often taken in
an entire state as stimulants in dyspepsia.
Mustard should be mixed with water
that has been boiled and allowed to
coul. Hot water destroys its essential
qualities, and raw cold water might
cause it to lerment. Put themustardina
cup with asmall pinch of salt, and mix
with it very gradually sufficient water
to make drop trom it the spoon without
becoming watery. The Germans have
a way of preparmg mustard in which
much of its pungency is modified by
spices. The 1ollowing is an approved
method of preparing it: Take of the
white and biack mustard seed, ground
fine, each ,one pound, and {halt a pound
of sugar. Pour upon this mixture a suf-
ficient quantity of boiling vinegar to
make it of the consistency of soft dough.
It should then be stirred constantly
with a paddle for about half an hour, in
whieh time the mustard will swell and
become much thicker. After it has
cooked—say about an hour -add one
ounce of powdered cinnamon and half
an ounce of powdered cloves, and mix
thorougtly. It may then be set away
in tightly covered bottles and jars, and
if the vinegar is good it will keep any
jength of time and improve with a ze.
It may be thinned with vinegar as it is
wanted for use. Mustard prepared in
this way is fur superior to that mixed in
the usual manner.
calm. :
The clock struck ten. I turned to the
which no man sentP— Washington Post
RELIGIOUS NEWS AND NOTES.
There are eighty-three Episcopal
Sunday-schools on Long Island,
In Georgia there are 2.663 Baptist
churches, 1.653 ministers, and 219,736
members of the Baptist chureh.
There are, it is said, eight translations
of the Bible in the languages of the
| South Sea islands and New Zealand
Last year twelve persons inthe United
| States and Europe gave an aggregate
fol $3,000,000 to the cause of foreign
i ‘
{ Wil Bids,
| South the American Missionary associ
i ation has expended $3,000,000 during
| the last nineteen years,
ng only twenty years, but hardly =a
town of any importance is now without
| Protestant church,
[t is now about 140 years since the
verts from heathenism now number
{ about a million and a half,
The mission work of the Lutheran
| ehurch of Denmark in Greenland, and
{ which is supported by the government,
% in a Hourishing condition. The mis
sion has ten missionaries, and 7.547
communi nts.
The United Brethren in Christ, who
have missions in Sherbro, Africa, and
in Germany, report receipts of $564,350
| the past year, most of which was ex.
| pended
extension
The United Presbyterian church,
{ which was formed in 1858 by the union
lias grown, in Lhe twenty years of its
existence, from a body having 408 min-
isters and 55,547 communicants, to one
with 674 ministers and 80,602 communi
| Gants,
Dr. Rufus Clark, at the Sunday-
school centennial, observed by the For
ign Sunday-school association in New
York, said the Sunday-school had be.
come the greatest theological seminary
in Christendom, and the time had come
to make it one of the greatest missions
ary forces in the world.
The Methodist Episcopal church has
in New Orleans seventeen churches, with
a membership of 3,500, and church
property amounting to $131,050. The
New Orleans university is now well es
tablished, and promises to be an increas.
r for good, uh
iooated in the heart of the
| $20,000
I'he Pan Presbyterian council is of
city worth
-
phia on Thursday, September 23, and
evening of October 3. Principal
ininy, Professor Calderwood, and Dr.
Andrew Thompson, of the United Pres
byterian church of Scotiand, are an-
nounced for papers, Ie Rott?
“ Medimval Theologioal
The Rev
dis
and ** Light from Without."
I}, D. Bannerman, of Deikeith, will
sion to Sealing Ordinances.” Mr. Daw.
son, of Montreal, will read apaper on a
t not yet made public,
.
Hoss for Five Minutes,
Soon after the dinner hour yesterday
a specimen tramp appeared at the door
of & house on John R street, and be.
began:
“Sir, I am a tramp.”
“ Yes, I see you are.”
But Iam not here to
money or clothing. 1 have
bite,
I had money 1 should get drunk and be
sent up.”
“ Well, what do you want?"
“There are four tramps down the
and 1 know they'll call here. It
is now five years since ! began traveling
| around. I suppose | have been called
a loafer and a thief and a dead best ten
| thousand times, and 1 have been shot
| at. clubbed, broomsticked and scalded
| times without record. Now I want a
change.”
“ How?"
i “Well, all I nsk is that you will let
{ me represent your house when those
| tramps come np.”
| This was agreed to. He sat down on
| the steps, removed his hat, lighted the
| stub of a cigar and was reading a circu.
| lar when the four fellows slouched up
and entered the yard,
| “What in Arkansas do you fellows
| want in my yard?" exclaimed the tramp
food,
mi
had a
ask for
jast
* aged
{ BL'eeL,
| ag he rose up.
| * Suthin' to
| reply.
| Something to eat!
eat,” was the humble
Why, you mis.
{ erable, thick-ribbed cadavers, go and
| earn it, then! Do you suppose 1 have
nothing to do but keep a free hotel for
loafers?”
“Can't get work,” mumbled the big
gest of the lot.
“Oh! vou can't? Been looking all
around; 1 suppose? Everybody got ali
the help they want, eh? Want to be
cashiers and confidential advisers, don’t
you?" :
* Nobody gives us a’ show,” growled
the third man.
“That's it! That's your cue! No-
body will take vou in with your ould
rags and dirt and sore heels and weep
over you, and ask you to please be good,
and put you in the parlor bedroom and
fred you on chicken broth! How
awful it is that you can't be put on ice
and laid away where you won't melt!”
“Will vou give us something?” im-
pudently demnnded the tourth.
“Will I? You are just right I will?
I'll give you five seconds to get outside
the gate, and I'll tell you in addition
that if ever I see you in this neighbor-
hood again 1'll tie you into hard knots
and hire a dog to bite you to death?
Git up and git? Move on-hurry-out
with you!”
They shuffled out as fast as they
could and when they turned the corner
the tramp put on his hat, put out his
inch of cigar for another smoke, and
said to the gentleman:
“Yeu have dene me a great favor
and Iam gratsful; I alrendy feel better
for the change, and I solemnly believe
that if I could only have got an excuse
to throw ‘em over the fence, I should
have been ready to reform and start
out as a jecturer. Good-bye, 1 shall
never forget your kindness." —Detrou
Free Fess.
Cn 33
Richard the Third’s Bed.
In the corporation records of Leicester
there is still preserved a story curiously
illustrative of the darkness and precau-
tion of Richard's character. Among
his camp baggage it was his custom to
carry a cumbersome wooden bedstead,
which he averred was the only couch
he could sleep in, but in which he
contrived to have a secret receptaclo
for treasure, so that it was concesled
under a weight of timber. After Bos-
worth field the troops of Henry pillaged
Leicester, but the royal bed was neg.
lected by every plunderer ag useless lum-
ber. Theowner of the house atterward
liscovering the hoard became suddenly
ich without any visible cause, He
bought land, and at length he became
nayor of Leicester.
Many years afterward, his widow,
woo had been left in great affluence,
was assassinated by her servant, who
had been privy to the affair; and at the
trial of this culprit and her accomplices
the whole transaction came to light.
Concerning this bed, a public print of
1830 states that about a century since
the relic was purchased by a furniture
broker in Leicester, who slept in it for
many years, and showed it to the curi-
ous; it continves in n8 good condition
apparently as when used by King Rich-
ard, being formed of oak and having a
high polish. The daughter of the
broker having married one Bahington,
of Rothley, near Leicester, the bedstead
was removed to Babington's house, where
it is gtill preserved.
The Paris Abattelr.
{The slaughter houses of Paris are lo.
| cated at La Villette, on the outkirts of
{the city, and form, together with a
olioe station, telegraph office, barracks
for a small foree of troops stationed
there, and other buildings,n town of ver
respectable size, The buildings, which
are of stone, were constructed in
| the most thorough manner by the eity
under government authority The
| premises are inclosed by a high stone
| wall, and the grounds are divided into
| regular rectangles by four avenues, in-
tersected by four streets,
Through each building runs a series
| of cours, covered with a glass ceiling,
and in these cours the slaughtering is
{ done, the animals being dressed on
wooden frames placed at regalar inter-
vals on each side of the cour. A pe-
{ eulinr feature of the business is that of
blowing up the carcass as soon as the
| head and An are cut off, which the
| Commercial Bulletin describes as fol
| lows: The body being placed on the
dressing frame, an incision is made in
the breast near the neck. and the nes.
£2] of a bellows nserted. A man then
works the bellows for about fifteen
| minutes, until the whole carcass is
| swollen out like a small balloon. The
| reasons given for this are that it makes
the meat look better, more plump than
it otherwise would, and that it enables
{the one who skins the carcass Lo get
the hide off quicker and easier, with-
out injuring it. All bullocks, calves,
sheep, eto, slaughtered in these estab.
lishments are blown up in this manner,
Pig butchery in Paris is conducted on
anovelplan. The pigs are taken into a
large round house, having a cupola in
{the roof to let off the smoke, the floor
being divided into triangular dens. A
dozen or so of pigs are driven into each
den ab atime, and a bute hier passes along
| and strikes each one on the head with
a mallet.
After being bled, the deflunet porkers
| are carried to the side of the room and
wrranged methodically in a row. They
are then covered with straw, which is
scton fire and the short bristles quickly
burned off. After athorough scorching
the pigs are carried into the dressing
room, hung up on hooks, and seraped
! by means of a sort of drawing knife,
handled by a skillful operator, who per-
pig a minute. Then the bodies ate
washed and the entrails taken out and
cleaned.
Every part of the animal is utilizedin
and that which the
AWay as
some use in the Frenchman's
| Paris,
throws
| subservi
economy.
the manufacture of the large black sau-
{ anges which meet with sudh extensive
in Paris. “The long bristles are
{ pu ed
maker.
sie
About Matches,
Old Mr, Jones is dead,
many of Lis name, but we bear Lis
| memory in specially grateful remem.
| brance as he passes away at the age of
tighty and is laid at rest in Chillicothe,
{ Ohio. Itisto Mr. Jones that we are
! chiefly indebted for friction matches.
| As with the steam engine, the telegraph
and the elecirie light, there were others
| who about the same time were «xperi-
menting with combustibles with a view
| to inventing something to supersede the
{ ancient tinder box and flints. To Wii
liam Jones is accorded the chief honor,
About half a century ago he pasted
with starch on the ends ol small and
rudely-fashioned bits of stick a com.
| pound of chlorate of potash and sul
i phate of antimony. At first his matches
were made like a comb, a number of
| them being on the same picce of wood,
they could be broken off as
{ wanted. They bore the name of Lucifer
| =not, as it commonly supposed, in aliu-
| gion to the Prince of Darkness, who is
| sometimes erroneously called by this
| name, but by pleasant reference to the
{ morning star, or ** light bearer.” Half
| a dozen years after Mr. Jones intro-
| duced matches phosphorous wis added
ito the composition and soon became
i one of the leading combustibles used.
{ This useful agent had been kpown for
| 150 years, but it was expensive to pro-
| duce and risky to handle. Modern im-
| provements have reduced its cost and
| vastly increased its production. An
{ immense quantity eof phosphorus is
| every year used in match making, be
ing over ninety per cent. of all that is
produced. A pound of the sriicle will
make a million matches. Some matches
are made without phosphorus, chiorate
of potash being substituted for it. 8»
necessary do these useful aids to civil
ization seem to our very existence that
it is hard to contemplate a state of
society which prevailed only hslt =
century ago in which the best people
had to knock flint stones together when
they wanted a light. Mr. Jones must
have had great difficulty at first in per.
suading people that his matches were
better than flints. Old gentlemen and
others who were set in their way were
opposed to the innovation, and, espe.
cinlly when they heard mention of the
name of Lucifer in connection with it,
suspected some influence of the evil
one. Even if good old Mr. Jones should
not have a monument erected to him
his memory will be honored in the fact
that the fruit of his happy thought has
brought comfort to all manner of peo-
ple, and that Lis invention, apparently
so small and so humble, has taken a
conspicuous place in the world's march
of progress,
i
i 50 that
co ————————
Runaway Horses.
The horse that has once acquired the
habit of running away, says “The
Book of the Horse,” will bolt on the
first opportunity. If you suspect his in-
tention the best plan is to cheek it the
moment he begins to move, taking hold
of one rein with both hands, and giving
it one or two such violent jerks that the
rogue must pause or turn round. Then
stop him, and, if you doubt your being
able to hold him, get off. Perhaps a
too vigorous plug” may make him cross
his legs and fall—-not a pleasant contin.
gency, but anything is better than being
run away with in a streer. In open
country you may compel the ranaway to
gallop with a loose rein until he is
tired, or to move in a constantly
narrowing cirele until he is glad to ha't.
A ten-ancre field is big enough for this
expedient, But the great point is to
stop a runaway before he gets into his
stride; after he is once away few bits
will stop a real runaway-—a steady pull
is a waste of exertion on the rider's
part. Some horses many be stopped by
sawing the mouth with the snaflle, but
nothing will check an old hand. An-
other expedient is to hold the reins
very lightly, and on the first favorable
opporiunity, as a rising hill, for instance,
to try a succession of jerks. But the
cunning, practiced ranaway is not to be
so much feared as the mad, frightened
horse, The mad horse will dash against
a brick wall, or jump at spiked rai ings
of impossible height. 1 once saw a run.
away horse, after getting rid of his rider,
charge and break open his locked stable
or.
ee —————————————
Sure to Win.
The gentleman is sure to win in this
lite of ours. If you speak the right word
at the right time; if you are careful to
leave people with a good impr: ssion; if
you do not trespass on the rights of
others; if you always think of br, vid ns
well as yourself; if Jou do not put youre
self unduly forward; if you donot for-
get the courtesies which belong to your
position, you are quite sure to accom-
plish much in life which others with
equal abilities will fail to do. This is
where the race is not to the swift nor
the battle to the strong. It is where
you make peopie feel that you are un-
selfish and honorable and truthful and
sincere. This is whatsociety is looking
for in men, and it is astonishing how
much men areable to win of self-respect
ana success and usefulness who possess
these qualities of good breeding.
The Manitoulin Erwpositor, a Hritisk
Ameiiean paper, says: News has just
been received of the death of Arthur
Cole Hill, who died at Serpent river
The deceased came from England, was
| about thirty-five years of age and pos-
| sessed of a good college education. He
{ entered the service of the Hudson Bay
| company for three years, and upon the
{expiration of his time signed for two
| years more. After putting in about one
| year of the latter term he made the ac-
| quaintance of a squaw and wanted to get
{ married, but as he could not do so until
lic leit the company, he wrote to head.
| quarters for his discharge and his salary
fup to that time, Mr. Mackenzie, who
| was in charge of the post at the time,
| also wrote explaining matters, which re-
{ sulted in the discharge not being granted,
{ Hill was then sent up Lake Superior to
{ another post, where it was thought he
{ would give up the idea of marrying a
{ Squaw, but he did not stop there long—he
| deserted and got married, Accordingto
some rules of the company, a man who
| does not serve his time out loses all back
me aey, and such was the case with Hill.
| Hivwever, he heard from Lis brother,
Henry Hill, who, we are informed, holds
| some office in the Bank of England, that
there was $500 to his credit there, and
he intended to sue the Hudson Bay com-
pany for back pay, whieh is about $600,
Alter he got married he made bis home
among the Indians at Serpent river, fol-
lowing their life, fishing, hunting, ete,
| and received a small amount for looking
after Murray's mill at that place. Last
November he took sick, and as there was
no medical attendance at hand he lingered
on till his death. Frank Miller, who has
been trading on the North Shore all win.
ter, went to see Hill at the sugar bush
about fifteen miles from Serpent river;
upon asking him what was the matter,
he replied that he had been sick, but felt
better then, Miller stopped in the wig-
wam that night, and next morning Hill
took worse and told him he was dying.
He told Miller that if anything happened
and if bis money could be obtained his
wile was to have it. He was silent for a
while, Suddenly a gun was fired, fol-
lowed by two more reports, then turning
on his side he said : * Frank, do you know
what that means? On being told that
he did not, he said: ** I'hat means there's
a death in the camp. but I ain't a gone
leoon yet." After lying quiet a few mo-
| ments he asked Miller to teach his little
| boy to pray, and that was his last request ;
ihediedat2 r. Mm. It was a bard scene,
Miller being the only white msn with
Lim; the deceased's wife and child, ber
mother and four Indians, comprised the
funeral, The body was rolled in a
| blanket and drawn out of camp on a dog-
i sleigh, followed by the little procession
| in single file, snd placing a few arrows in
the grave they buried him. Deceased
: was well liked both by the Indians and
| white men, and his sad death is deeply
{ fit by all who knew him.
Culinary Uses for Leaves.
An English writer, calling attention
o a much neglected source of culinary
flavors, says: With the exception of
sweet and bitter herbs, grown chiefly
for the purpose, and parsiey, which is
neither bitter nor sweet, but the most
popular of all flavoring piants, com-
paratively few other leaves are used.
Perhaps 1 ought also to except the sweet
| bay, which is popular in rice and other
puddings, and certainly imparts one of
the most pleasant and exquisite flavors;
but, on the other hand, what a waste
there is of the flavoring properties of
peach, almond and lsurel leaves, so
richly charged with the essence of bitter
almonds, so much used in many
kitchens,
Of course such leaves must be used
with caution. An infusion of these
could readily be made, green or dry,
and a tea or tablespoonful of the flavor-
ing liquor used. One of the most use-
ful and harmless of all leaves for flavor-
ing is that of the common syringa.
When cucumbers are scarce, these are
a perfect substitute in salads, or any-
thing in which that flavor is desired,
The taste is not only like that of cucum-
bers, but identioal—a curious instance
of the correlation of Aavors in widely
different families. Again, the young
leaves of cucumbers have a striking
likeness in the way of flavor to that of
the fruit.
The same may be affirmed of carrot
tops. while in most gardens there isa
prodigous waste of celery flavor inthe
sacrifice of the external leaves and
their partially blanched footstalks.
Scores of celery are cut up into soup,
when the outsides would flavor it
equally well or better. The young
leaves of gooseberries added to bottled
fruit give a fresher flavor and a greener
color to pies ard tarts. The leaves of
the flowering currant give a sort of in-
termediate flavor between black cur
rants and red.
Orange, citron and lemon leaves im-
part a flavoring equal to that of the
fruit and rind combined and somewhat
different from both. A few leaves
added to pies, or boiled in the milk
used to bake with rice, or formed into
crusts or paste, imparts an admirable
and almost inimitable bouquet. In
short, leaves are not half so much used
for seasoning purposes as they might
be.
Printed Paper.
In buying groceries, butter, cheese,
eto., are frequently wrapped in printed
yaper, or even in old manuscripts. Per-
Po we might also say that provisions
tor picnics and other hathpers are stowed
away in similar coverings, and it will,
therefore, not be amiss if we call atten.
tion to the fact that danger has been
discovered to, burk in these fwmiliat
wrappings. In the case of printe
Wharr Pp characters have often been
transferred to the cheese or butter, nd
either they are cut away by thé obser-
vant cook or they are unnoticed, and in
due course become assimilated in the
process of satisfying hunger. It is more
than likely that deleterious matter is
contained in the ink, and the digestion
suffers. But written paper is even more
likely to be hurtful, inasmuch as in
writing the paper has been in close con-
tact with the hand, which not improb-
ably may be giving off a perspiration,
that may enter the pores of the paper
and may there ferment, not with advan-
tage to health in the event of any portion
ef the manuscript being allowed to ac-
company the food down unsuspecting
hironts, Only clean, unused paper
hould be allowed as wrappers for food
st ——————
London's Expenses,
The principal officers of the corpora-
tion of London are paid as follows:
‘he recorder (as judgeat central crimi-
! hot court oh 8 Jig mayor'scourt). $15,000
Registoar of mayor's court, who is also
assistant judge... .ooieinn . 13,170
[he COMMON BOPEEANE. «av ves vee 12,76)
Judge of the ity of London court, who
is algo commissioner. i.e ves «19,625
Comptroller and prothonotary. ......
City solicitor .
Chief commissioner of police
Remembrancer
Architect and surveyor
Town clerk
Head master of city of London school.
Registrar of coal duties and inspcotor of
froit MOAR «vv virs ir rarstrnsans J
lioitor to missioners of sowers.. 5.000
The lord mayor is voted an annual
sum of $50,000, free of income tax, to
maintain his position; and in addition
to this he has his robes voted to him,
and has the Mansion house, free of rent,
to live in.
Tr
e sass
——I——————
The New Testament has been made a
duily reading book in the schools of
Greece. The demand for it has become
greater than he missionary depositories
are able to supply, and un enterprising
publisher has begun to publish it as a
speculation.
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD,
———
Mized Feed Best for Animais,
Noanimalsdo well torany great length
of time on any one article of food, The
ratuial condition of all our domestic
animals i+ to roam at Iarge and make
their own select’ons from the abundant
varieties which nature has vided,
We frequently speak and te of the
excellent feeding qualities of one or an~
other variety of fodder. but in the ex
erience of feeding it will be found that
n the first change from one kind to an-
other we have an increase in milk, al
though the change may not always be
in favor of the most nutrition. A new
variety tempts the appetite, and the ex.
tra quantity which the animal consumes
will more than compensate for its less
nutritious character. It is generally said
for a horse that is working in heavy
teams corn is preferable to oats, but for
the driving or riding horse oats are
better than corn. With this statement
we disagree and prefer a mixture. Oats
roduce more muscle, corn more fat. A
PE fed on oats is quicker in its
motions and more restive, but fod on
corn is steadier and more enduring,
hence the benefit of a mixed feed.
Nowhere is the advantage of » mixed
| foed more apparent than in milch cows,
| for, milk being a product that requires
| a fair proportion of all the elements re-
| quired for the production of an animal
| itis evident that «ll the elements will
| be necessary for making milk. Bat
| sometimes we make a special effort to
| produce an extra amount of butter, then
| we must feed an extra amount of food
| which eontains an excess of oil or fat.
| We find if we are feeding the best of
| hay, if we add a little meal we do not
unerease the quantity of mills so much
as the quantity of butter. The German
| ehemists have for some time been teach-
Call all the boys; “we must go ated,
To speed the plow and cast theseed;
God bless the seed, and make it to yield
hen & man attains the age Af
hie may be termed XC dingly old.
Does pot a farmer heoome a eas
when he ests his owa kine?~7¥
Sad >
“ What,” asks the N. 4 Haven "
fer, “is worse than freckles?”
might try a boil. ;
were erected in
not far from J :
It is estimated that the total proc
tion of coffee throughout the world
The Federal
# ot Sas
oer $30,000 since the war fn
ing government buildings ail over the
Lady Harcourt, dnaghier of
Motley , is the first American
Indy who has the wife of a
“None knew him but to
named him but to praise,
What's the use of
about spelling reform
| ipg us that to obtain the best resu’ts
carbo-Lyvdrates (fat and heat producers)
and albuminoids (flesh producers) so |
| evenly balanced that one shall consume |
| the other inthe anirial economy, though |
| this cannot punts be le on
account of the dierent conditi~ns of
the animals. One that is being fattened
| will consume a larger portion of carbo. |
‘hydrates than of albuminoids, snd the |
| Iatter will be found making richer the
| manure pile, although rey h furnished
| largely in excess of fat producing ma-
j terial. In growing animals flesh and |
| bor e producers should be in the ascend- |
{ency. and in milch cows, as already :
| stated, the elements should be well ba's |
{dnoed. The evidence that no one i
duction of nature is all that is required
in the animal economy is farnished is |
{the facts that no one production e
adapted to all the requirements of the
animals or all that is required from the
aviwal,
No person has any higher apprecia
tion of rye a»d corn fodder ex-
perienced feeder. Yet we do not think
that these fed alone are equai to a mix-
ture, Rye is valuable because it comes
when it | desirable for the cows to have
a change but there is a wonderful dif-
ference between an addition of a few
quarts of brewers’ grains and squat of
bran, mixed, and a pint of meal in the
productionof milk. Weare
to feed ryealone because nother forage
doit,
, Onls
i
i
crop is available, or we would not
If we conid have amixtureof bar!
and clover with rye, we should have a
superior fodder. Pasture grass, or rather
grasses, excel, ton for ton. either rye,
barley, outs, clover, corn fodder, or any
like crops, because pastures yield a com-
bination of grasses all varying in their
composition and in their 1ime of matur-
ing: but the difference is this that we
can obtain a ton of any of the fodder
crops from less than one-tenth of the
ground required for the pasture
Still, is 1s undesirable tv feed ary one
forage crop when we could feed three or
fourimixed, or alternately. A mixture
of grasses make a more profitable hay
than any one kind. Clover and peas are
good feed to alternate with corn fod-
der. Clover, which is rich in albu-
minoids, will produce a large quantity
ofmilk. Sweet-corn fodder is rich in
sugar, starch and fat, and will add to
the milk, the butter and sugar elements,
and so on. But we have said enough to
illustrate our position as to mixed feed
being best for animals. — American
valor.
Best Fertilizer for Fruit Trees.
A correspondent of the New England
Homestead says: The best fertilizer to
use in setting fruit Jrees of all aiade a
partially or thoroughly decomposed chip
dirt. We made use of the material for
the first time some twenty years ago
in planting an apple orchard, and it was
a wonder to those not in the secret what
caused the trees to make such a fine
growth the first season, and afterward,
too, for that matter. This experiment
was so satisfactory that when we set
our new orchard we made a liberal use
of this material with the same satisfao-
tory result. These trials have proved
to our satisfaction that chip dirt is the
very best material to mix in the soil as
you plant the tree that can possibly be
used, for the reason that it holds mois-
ture, and is full ot theeclements of plant
food; therefore it a most lux-
uriant, natural and healthy growth. Re-
peated trials have satisfied me that a
tree is not only more sure to live, but
will make double the
year (es iy if a dry season) if some
two bushels of chip dirt are properly
used in its setting than it would with-
outit. A Single trial will convince the
most skeption! that the best possible use
that ean be made of this valuable ma-
terial is to apply it to the soil in plant-
ing trees in order to push forward the
tree during the first precarious stages of
its growth. :
tiousehold ilints,
Use white oileloth, bound with red
for wall protectors back of the kitchen
table, and under the hooks where pans,
ete., are hung.
Potato water, in which potatoes have
been scraped, the water being allowed
to settle, and afterward strained, is
good for sponging dirt out of silk.
W hen you clean your lamp chimneys,
hold them over the nose of the teakettle
when it is boiling furiously. One or
two repetitions of this process will
make them beautifully clear.
Sweep carpets gently. Even a
carpet Thould be ed with a
eration. A severe digging witha broom
wears the warp and scrapes out the
lint of the rags quite needlessly.
Theery of Life.
The late Professor Faraday adopted
the theory that the natarsl of max is
one hundred years. The duration of
life he believed to be measured by the
time of growth. In tte camel this takes
eight, in the horse five, in the lion four,
in the dog two, in the rabbit one yem.
The natural termination is five removes
from these several points, Man, being
twenty years in growing, lives five times
twenty years—that is, one hundred; the
camel is eight years in growing, and lives
forty years; and so with other animals,
The man who does not die of sickness
lives everywhere from eighty to ome
hundred years. The professor divided
into equal halves, growth and decline,
and these into infancy, youth, virility,
and age. Infancy extends to the twen-
tieth year, youth to the fiftieth, because
it is in this period the tissucs become
firm, virility from fifty to seventy-five,
during which the organism remains
complete, and at seventy-five old
commences, to last as the diminution of
reserve forces is hastened or retarded.
In the Congregational house at Bos-
ton there are 20,000 volumes and 100,
000 matusaripte pertaining to the his-
tory and theology of Cong onalism.
It perhaps is not , pig lv known that
this building stands on the spot where
the first stone house in Boston was built
217 years 0.
word, anybody ean spell reform.
don't the
gpm
the ravines, and
sat down in one of the gorgeous gorges
ged himsell,
mountains to say that
OuS 88 & TAVED among
A newspaper out West thus heads its
geport of a fire: “Feast of the Fire
¥ -— The Fork-Tonguel no
Licks with its Lurid Bresth a Lumber
i of Boston tobe
* in the du
Rhone where all the inhabitants—some
15,000-—stammer. He ascribes this to
long continued lm smog
the communities and to a
degeneracy of the race.
M. Alexandre Dumas has received in
suthor's fecs during the past six years,
while MM. Erckmang- ris
their play, “L'Amis Fritz" § :
In Behring isiand the Swedish Arctie
explorers claim to have discovered the
future “airy farm of the remote East,
anglers who have used
this season. It would int certain
¢'ass of young men more to know what
kind of shoes is go! to be the forest.
thing for the Pa
oung es ve been :
i numerous floating barsgrarhs don
revaricat
p e,— Norristown
A curious monopoly pre :
Japan. It seems thst in the midst of 8 er
Son fagrabion a Japanese
Ay ean on ¥inaute ithumity : for his
roperty rom; a suffid
Hop ibe: to the ramen. this
is done, the latter are perfectly
as to the destruction of other property
in oarr The
Tokio § sa
of a million inhabitants there
steam-enpgine and hardly sa
i le,of B ~ d of Pari “otksot
'Aiple, of Burie an 2,
ahout 90,000,000, while tho-e of Rota
Germany and other ¢ untries produce
about 10,000,000. So that we estimate
proximately at 80,000,000 the number
of pins manu every day, giving
20,200,000,000 of pins in
a year in Europe e.
An Egyptian Fair. the
A letter from Cairo, Egypt. has L
following account of an ptian fair:
The sound of wild musie instru-
ments made deep in the heart of the
* dark continent” mingles with shouts
and songs ina aundred dislects. The
setting sun throws a ros; glamour over
gong sounds from a minaret, and
watchman's ery, “Allah "—the last
rolonged indefinitely — floats
the air. In an instant every
sound is hushed, the angry dispute and
the frantic song stop short;'the thou-
sands turn with one sceord to the east
to touch the ercund with their for .
The sight is unmistakably impressive.
We pick our way through the plain to
the town, one’s attention being divided
between the tethering poss, and the
heels of the unbroken mules. In ten
minutes the are reached; here
the day's business is giving, piace ts
ure. Carpets, j* we ! :
APS, Sessels of ne a silver, slip~
, turbans and weapons
Loess k AWRY. Galiored lamps x Seine
in the cafes, and dancing women prepare
for action. dancer, like a good
skater, requires but a small space in.
which to perform, and the artof the
Egyptian fantasia consists in the move-
ments of the muscles of the back ard
loins, highly developed from in‘anc
Song mpanies the dance, the
ments expressed being, however,
advanced. But it is late, the air is
stifling, and the hasheesk smokeis are
getting mad with their narcotic. Buey
all.
the
syllable
thro
onl t 4
glare at the yw |