HOE OUT YOUR ROW. ———— One summer's day a farmer's boy Was hoeing out the corn, And moodily had listened long To hear the dinner horn. The welcome blast was heard at last, And down he dropped his hoe, But the good man shouted in his ear, “My boy, hoe out your row." Although a hard one was the row, To use a plowman’s phrase, And the boy, as sailor's have it, jeginning now to ‘‘haze;"’ «fk can,” he said, and manfully Again he seized his hoe; Aud the good man smiled to see The boy hoe out his row. The lad the text rememberod, And learned the lesson well, That perseverance to the end, At last will nobly tell. "Take courage, man; resolve you can, And strike a vig'rous blow; In life's wide field of varied toil, Always ‘hoe out your row," ENS ME. CRAMTEXT'S NEW COAT. It was the second ring of the door bell. Ellen, the *‘help,” was busy get- ting breakfast, to which Mrs, Cramtext had gone down to give the finishing touches, so, putting aside my book, 1 wont down to the door in person. “The Rev. Mr. Cramtext, I pre- sume, "said a melancholy looking youth, raising « very high bat, swathed in a deep weed. I bowed assentingly. “May I have the favor of a few words with you?” be asked, peneively. 1 was about to request him to say them at once, and, besides, to make them as few as possible; for, though Dorcas is a model minister's wife—the adjective, if it be one, is meant for the wife, and not the -minister—she has her housewifely vanities as well as another, and they're quite as easily wounded, too; so I knew if I wanted the morning coffee. sweetened with her smile, 1 musn’t spoil it by keeping it waiting. But the young man’s manner was ex- ceedingly sad, and his heart seemed too over-burdened to be unloaded in a mo- ment: hence, at the risk of Dorcas’s displeasure, 1 invited him into the study. “What can I do for you, my young friend?” 1 inquired, inviting him first to be seated. Depositing a neatly folded parcel on the floor, he took out his handkerchief and applied it to his eyes. For some seconds bis frame shook with emotion. Then wiping his eyes hard, he recovered himself with an eflort. “My poor father—"" he began. Again the bandkerchief went up and the voice went down, “Calm yourself,” I said, soothingly, adding the customary text in relation to “our light afilictions, which are but for a moment.” *“My poor father,” he resumed, scemingly a little comforted, *‘died a week ago. His labors in the vine yard-—" “Was he in the wine business? ' I in- terrupted, my temperance principles taking the alarm, “He was a clergyman,” replied the outs, reproachfully, *‘whoss labors #0 exhausted his health that hig physician declared the only hope lay in & change of air, to obtain which he was traveling with me as his com- panion, when suddenly he grew so much worse that we were forced to stop, and in a brief space death put a period to a useful and blameless life, and deprived an unhappy sou of the best of fathers, “The money we had with as little more than sufficed to pay the medical balls and the funeral charges; and I am now thus far on my way to carry to my bereaved mother the sad tidings of our mutual loss, without the means of pro- ceeding further, “I have not come tc solicit charity,” he hastened to add. *'I have in this parcel” —opening it, and unfolding a new broadcloth coat of ministerial regu- lation cut— "an articic belonging to my iate father which I would gladly dispose of even at a sacrifice; and it being suit- able only for a clergyman 1 venture to offer it to you.” I happened fo be in need of such a piece of apparel, Dorcas had been hint- Ing for some time that my pastoral use- fulness would be decidedly enhanced by a better coat, and by close pinching we had saved up nearly enough to supply the want, Had 1 been in affluent circumstances, I should have cheerfully relieved the needs of adeceased brother clergyman’s son gratuitously, But not being in a condition to warrant such liberality, the best I could do would be to eas to his proposal and purchase the prof- fered garment, provided the terms and fit suited. Caio up Dorcas, I explained the cage, e coat was fried on, It fitted beautifully in front, The strailest of our sect enuld find no fault with the straightness of the cut, and the single file of bombazine buttons, marshaled in close order down the right breast, looked a very phalanx of orthodoxy. Dorcas pronounced the rear view equal- ly perfect. All it needed was a little “taking in” ot the left armpit, which any competent person could do fn ten minutes; and Deacon Dorrity, whose secular vocation was that of a tailor, calling in just then, fully corroborated Dorcas. How much was the price, was the next question, “1 think father never wore it more thau once,” ssid the young man “though it may have been twice, I'll oall it twice, to be on the safe side, It cost twenty-five dollars; but, of course having beeu worn some, there should be a reduetion,” He hesitated. 18. .was apparent he feared to name a price lest it should be too much, It was gratifying to witness smch scrupulous adherence to rectitude under the sore temptation of waut, “Dy you think twenty dollars Jou be fair?” I said, coming to his reliet, “ft 1s more tisan 1 should have dared to sak,” he replied; “but if you think it right, I shall be rejoiced to accept it.” Ou these terms the {ranssectiop was concluded to our mutual sa isfaction, The sorrowing son was provided with means to continue his dutiful jonruey, and I had a coat, as good as new, at some saving of cost, Ellen rang the breakfast bell, and Doroas joined me in pressing the stran- ger and the deacon to join us at the table, but both declined on the ground that they had already breakfasted. And after much warn hand-shaking and a cordial exchange of blessings the former went his way, 1 had been honored shortly belore with an invitation to participate in a protracted meeting to be held about a hundred miles away under the suspices of an old college classmate, And now that I had a decent suit to my back Dorcas insisted on my going. She possessed a good deal of wifely ambition, and had set her heart on my speedy rise in the church to which she seemed to think the only thing requisite was a more widely diffused knowledge of my gifts, Of course Dorcas had her way, and everything was got in readiness for the journey. I picked out my best sermon and touched it up a bit here and there, somewhat improving the rhetoric if not the doctrine, If it should only impress the hearers half as much as it did myself it couldn’t fail of doing good, I wanted to travel in my old coat, but Dorcas wouldnt listen to it, A clergyman's appearance, she insisted, should, at all times, comport with the dignity of his calling. I could wear my duster in the stage-coach, but I must be sure to remove it whenever 1 Stopped. ad I been going as a missionary to Timbuetoo Doreas could scarcely have been in a grester fidget. I shall not risk inourring the charge of exaggera- tion by hazarding a conjecture as to the number of times she packed, unpacked and repacked my hand-trunk, or by di- vulging her views as to the number of night and day shirts, white ties and throat lozenges required for a week's ministerial campaign. How to get such an unlimited quantity into a limited space was a problem solvable only by feminine ingenuity, 1 confess to a feeling of relief when the hour came to kiss Dorcas good-by and take my place in the coach, Half an hour had elapsed, and I had just gotten comfortably settled down in a corner of the back seat, when all of a sudden I started from the reverie into which I was being gently jolted. Wasn't I like the man who went shoot- ing and forgot his gun? Hadn't I left my sermon behind? Iremembered lay- ing it out before starting, but recollect- ed pothing further, I began a hurried search, and conldn’t help an exclama- tion of relief as my hand encountered the precious document in my inside breast pocket, The journey was without incident till the last day, which was Saturday, when suddenly we collapsed a wheel, Fortu- nately the accident occurred at the en- trance of a populous village, where the passengers could be made comfortable pending the repairs, A wheelwright was sent for, who, al- ter a careful diagnosis, declared that it would take at least half a day to get the vehicle on its legs. 1 must either, then, remain where [ was till Monday, or eontinune my journey on the Sabbath, which was against my principles. I hal recently made the sin of Sanday travel. ing the subject of a set discourse, and felt obliged to practice my own teach. ings as well for consistency’s as for con- science’s sake, I was inwardly deploring the neces- sity of spending the coming Sabbath in the promiscuous society of a village tavern, when a grand looking gentle- man accosted me: “] presume by your garb,” he said, ‘‘that you are a clergyman, and being of that calling myself, and conjecturing your aversion to proceeding on a jour- ney under circumstances which may carry it into the Sabbath, permit me to tender you the hospitality of my roof till Monday.” I thankfully accepted the offer; and shortly “witer myself and hand-trunk were saugly bestowed in Brother and Sister Gushinggood's best room, ‘Though an entire stranger to both, I could scarcely have been more hospita- bly received had I enjoyed their inti- macy for years, In the course of the evening Brother Gushinggood aud I discovered that our views completely harmonized on certain important ques- tions then actively mooted; and before the hour of retiring he pressingly in- vited me to occupy his pulpit on the morrow. I saw no strong reason to de- cline; for though 1 had brought but a single sermon with me, and should be obliged to repeat it at the protracted meeting, the two places were sufllciently distant to insure that the audiences would be wholly different, Before lying down I took out the sermon fo run it over, as was my custom of a Saturday night, Every brother knows that to read a sermon ereditably, one can not be too familiar with it, At the first glance I started with surprise. It wasn't my sermon at ali! I must have forgotten the latter as I had feared, and this must be one of the dead minister's left in his coat pocket, I glanced it over and found it a well compacted discourse on a popular topie, Why not use it? It was an excellent uction and might do great , of which the world was not to be deprived merely because the author was dead, Besides it had fallen into my hands as a sort of Providential treasure-trove, in which I felt I possessed at least a usu fructuary title, But 1 must hurry on to the point at which I rose mm Mr, Gushinggood’s pul pit next morning with the newl ered sermon carefully smoothed ont and deposited betwoen the Old and New Testament in the big Bible on the reading desk, I began in my best manner, By re- peated perasals I had so familiarized myself with the manuscript that, with the aid of an occasional prompling glance, I was avle to clothe the words with the freshness of apparently extom- poraneous delivery, The opening sentences were received with respectful attention; but prot soon queer looks began to be snd ove sedate-looking gentleman ae- tually winked at another at the close of one of the best-rounded periods. The most pathetic passages, instead of elicit ing tears, excited smiles; and the pero- ration, which was highly pathetic, was received with a broad grin, and more than one dainty hankerchiel was raised, not to choke back a sob, but to stiflo » titter. 1 sat downindignant, end left Brother Gushinggood to continue the exercises. He did so with a brief prayer, decidedly wanting in unction, from which the usual complimentary allusion to *‘the excellent discourse to which we have been privileged to listen,” was studiously omitted. Belure the giving out of the final hymn 1 expected to hear the customary announcement of a collection to be taken up “for the benefit of the brother who has just addressed ns,” On the con- trary, this wins what Brother Gushing- good said; *“Not long since, when I had occasion to make a visit to a distant town, the house at which I stopped was robbed. Among other article: taken was a coat of mine with a sermon in the pocket. To that sermon we have just listened; and I observed you all recognized it, for it is not long since 1 preached it here myself, The stolen garment is on that man's back. I identify it as fally as I deo the discourse which he has just had the effrontery to deliver. I believe he is an imposter and a thief, who has assumed his present character for the purpose of victimizing the unsuspecting portion of the religions community, You wil now receive the benediction, and at the conclusion Constable Haler will please step this way.” Which Constable Haler yery promptly did; and it was in Ais company, followed by thie body of the congregation, that I leit the church, As the procession passed along the street we mot the Sunday coach coming in, Through one of the windows I caugtit a glimpse of Deacon Dorrity., Ordinarily I should have felt inclined to read him a homily oa the wicked- ness of traveling on the Sabbath, As it was, my joy at seeing him knew no bounds, “How are you, Mr, Cramtext? I hardly expected to overtake you here,” said the deacon, catching sight of me as he alighted, 1n a few hurried, excited words I ex- plained my plight, He heard them, 1 thought, with unbecoming levity, for it was some time before he could speak for laughing. “Well, well, what a joke!” he ex- claimed, I confess I didn't see it. ‘But here comes Brother Gushing- good,” continued the deacon, as my late host made his appearance, The deacon and he proved to be old friends; and the former, as the reader will recolléet, having been present when 1 bought the coat, of course the whole matter was quickly cleared up, Doreas, learning that the deacon was coming that way, and would pass through the town where the protracted meeting was held, had charged him with the delivery of the forgotten senaon, which, at the instance of Brother Gush- inggood, who insisted on my eoutinuing tus guest, and wearing his coat till my return home, I delivered in his church that evening to an appreciative auditory, and had my feelings further soothed by a liberal collection, I never made another venture in posthumous coats or dead men's ser- mons, HN SSI mn “A new industry to give labor to the toiling masses,” said a gentleman yes- terday, “It is a company established on the plan of like Institutions in Berlin and Paris, and has for its object the mending of socks,” The listener started away. “Don’t go. It's a fact, Bee, here is a oirenlar from the company. They do not confine their attention to socks, Stockings, underwear for ladies and gentlemen, clothing of all kinds, for every age and for both sexes will be mended.” “Why not add umbrellas and silk hats?” “They have dome so. Silk hats are pot a cirommstance, Broken china and strained bedsteads are not neglect ed. It is simply a company that manufactures nothing and repairs every- thing." “Suppose the furniture mechanic should upset his glue pot on the seal- akin sacque which his neighbor was sew- ing on, You can’t repair everything in one shop?” “That's where you are not informed. The company are just starting, Their present specialty is clothing, They call at any address on receipt of a card and get the socks or other arbioles, take them to headquarters, mend them, and return them with a bill. They will call for any dish or articles of furniture and return it mended in like manner, But they have not yet got so large a factory that they ean do so varied a business, They have no factory at all, ouly rented rooms, But they have arranged with boot makers, fur makers, dress makers, cement makers, furniture makers, hat makers, and makers of about every articies of household utility who will do the work. The SompaBY. looks after the repairs and guarantees the work, saving the owner all the trouble and sometimes much expense?” “Suppose man splits a dress coat?” ““T'ney wiil handle the job, bri it to hun so neatly ( that he wil not know where the darbed sit is, and all for thirty cents a square inch of hdarning, That's a sample of their prices.” “But if they farm out the work why should a man not take his own work to a tailor?” “Because be hasn't the time, Ho can get the work done by the company at the same price, and save all trouble ex- Sup that of writing a letter and paying sims ni MARIA SHAS. 4 Celluiowd, wnen used a8 a substitute for wood in the production of large printing type, ix found to be muoh pre- erable to wood, It has a fine surface, posenies Stent iy, ean be roa ily worked, is and oan stand all the rough usage the job pregs. in Double Danger. I've had many a queer voyage in ny time (said Capt. M. — ~}, but the queerest | ever had was one that 1 made (somewiial unexpectedly, as you will see) upon the Great Fish river, 1n South Africa, on ny way back from a hunting cxcursion. As 1 neared the bank 1 saw that the river was in full flood, more than twice its usual breadth, and running hke a mill-race. I knew at once that I should have a very tough job to get across—for u flooded African river is no joke, 1 can tell you. But I knew aiso that my wife would be terribly anxious If I didn’t come back on the day that I bad fixed— South Africa being a place where a good many things may happen toa man—and g0 1 determined 10 chance it. Just at the water's edge I found an old bushman that I knew well, who had a boat of his own, #o I hailed him at once. “Well, Kaloomi, what will you take to put me across the river?” “No go fifty dollars this time bases” (master), said the old fellow, in his haif- Dutch, half-Enghish jargon. “Boat no get ‘cross to-day; water groed (great)!” And never a bit could 1 persuade him, although I offered him money enough to make any ordinary bushman jump head first down a precipice. Money was good, he said, but it would be no use to hum when he was drowned; and, in short, he wouldn't budge, “Well, it you won't put me across,’ said 1 at last, “lend me your boat, and I'll just do the job for myself; I can't very well take my horse with me, so I'll just leave ham here in pledge that I'll pay for the boat when | come back.” “Keep horse for you, master, quite willing; but ‘spose you try to cross to-day you never come back to ask for hun.” He spoke so positive that, though I'm not easily frightened, I cerwinly did fecl rather uncomfortable, However, when you've got to do a thing of that sort, the less you think of it the better, so I jumped into the boat and shoved off. 1 had hardly got clear of the shore when 1 found that the old fellow was right, for the boat shot down the stream like an arrow. saw in a moment that there was no hope of paddling her across, and thst all I could do was just to keep her head siraight, Dut 1 hadn't the chance of doing even that very long, for just then a big tree came driving slong, and hitting nfy boat full on the quarter, smashed her like an egg-shell. 1 had just ime to clutch the projecting roots and wiusk myself up on to them, and then tree and | went away down stream together at I don't know bow many miles an hour. At first [| was 80 rejoiced st escaping just when all seemed over with me, that I didn’t think much of what was to come next; but before long I got something to thunk of with 8 vengeance. The tree, as U've said, was a large one, efid the branch end (the opposite one to where | sal) was all one mass of green leaves, All sl once, just sa 1 was shifting mysell 10 a sater plece among the roots, tne leaves suddenly parted, and out pecped the great yellow head and fierce eyes of an enormous lion! I don't think I ever got such a fright in my life. My gun bad gone to the bottom slong with the boat, and the only weapon i had left was a short hunting-kaife, which against such a beast as that would be no more than a bodkin, I fairly gave myself up for lost, making sure thal in another moment he'd spring forward snd lear me to bite. But whether it was thal he bad slready gorged himself with prey, or whether (as I suspect) he was really frightened at find. ing himself in such a scrape, he showed no disposition to stack me, #0 long, at least, as I remained still. The stant [| made any movement whatever, he would begin roaring and lashing his tail, as it he would fall on me at once. So, to avoid provok. wg him, I was forced (0 remain stock. still, although sitting s> long in one posi tion cramped me dreadfully. y There we sat, Mr. Lion and 1, staring at each other with all our might—a very pic- turesque group, no doubt, if there bad been anybody there to see it. Down, down the stream we went, the banks scem- ing to race past us as if we were going by train, while all around broken timber, wagon-wheels, trees, bushes and the car. casses of drowned horses and caltle went whirling past us upon the thick, brown walter Ail at once 1 noticed that the lion seemed to be getting strangely restless, and turn. ing his great head from side to side in a pervous kind of way, as if he saw or heard something he didn’t hke. At first | couldn't magne what on earth was the matter with him, but presently 1 caught sound which scared me much worse than it had dove the lion. Far in the distance 1 could hear a dull, booming roar, which | had heard too often not to recognizy at ODOR; We were neanng & waterfall I had seen the great falie of the Fish river more thap once, and the bare thought of being camed over those tremendous precipices made my very blood run cold. ¥ et bene devoured by a lion would hardly be much of sn lmprovement, and as 1 hadn't the ghost of a chance of being able to swim ashore, there really seemed to be po other alternative. Faster and faster we went—louder and jouder grew the roar of the cataract: the tion seemed to have given himself up for lost, and crouched down among the leaves, only uttering a low, moaning whine now and then. was farly at my wits’ end what to do, when all of a sudden 1 caught sight of something that gave me a gleam of hope. A little way ahead of us the river nar- rowed suddenly, and a rocky headland thrust itself out a good way into the stream. On one of the lowest points of i grew a thick clump of trees, whose boughs aati] the water; and it struck me that {f we only passea near enough, I might manage to catch hold of one of the branches, and swing myself up on to the me or sot, and planted myself on one of the biggest roots, where I could take a spring when the time came. 1 knew would be my lust chance, for time we were 80 near the precipice could see quite plainly, & little way the great cloud of spray and vapor hovered over the waterfall, Even a best it was a desperate venture, and I © tell you that I felt my heart beginning thump like 5 sledge-bammer as Wwe came closer and closer to the i thought what would happen if I my leap. Just us we neared it, 1t happened by special meres of God that our tree struc against something and turned fairly cross. wise to the current, the end with ®e lion on it swinging out into midstream, while my end was driven close to the rock ou which the clump of trees grew. Now or never! | made one spring (1 don’t think 1 ever made such another be- fore or since) and just clutched the lowest bough; and as I dragged myself on to it | heard the last roar of the doomed lion mingled with the thunder of the water- fall as be vanished into the cloud of mist that overbung the precipice. As for me, it wus late enough that night before 1 got home; and | found my poor wife in a fine fright about me; so 1 thought it just as well, on the whole, to keep my adventure to myself, and it wasn't until nearly a year later that she heard a word about my sirange fellow-voyager., an —— Popular PFhrases. Assassin—This word is derived from a military and religious order formed iu Persia by Hassen ben Sabah, about the middle of the eleventh century, and called “Assassins,” from their immod- erate use of Hashish, or Indian hemp, used as a stimulant in Eastern countries, They are said to have neryed them- selves for their horrible work by the excitement of Hashish; go that an as- sassin, strictly, is not a secret murderer, but a drunken maniac, Furlough— Leave of absence granted to a soldier, The word, in various forms, is common fo all the Teutonic and Scandinavian dialects. In the Duteh it is verlof, in Danish forlof, and in German verlauben, Gammon—I'rom the Anglo-Saxon gamian, meaning to make sport of, In this country the word is usually adopted in the sense of “chaff,” *“‘windy" utter- ances, extravagant assertions, nonsense, as ‘‘It's all gammoa,” Horse-Power—The illusion of this term is obvious, “‘Horse-power” bears among engineers three very different meanings, being, however, generally qualified by the adjectives nominal, in. direct or actual, each of which refers to certain special data upon which the estimate of power is based, Nominal horse-power is generally estimated from the diameter of the cylinder, the length of the stroke, multiplied by a certain standard and velocity of piston and pressure of steam, As each engineer decides for himself what his pressure and veloeity shall be, the standard varies with different mak. ers, and, for all practical purposes, a statement of the diameter of cylinder and length of stroke would convey a far clearer idea than any mere expression of nominal horse power, Money—This word is from the French monnaie, which is derived from the Latin moneta, a surname of the temple of Juno at Rome, where money was coined. Mint is from the same source, Money originally meant only stamped coin, but was formerly applied, as at present, to what represented coin, such as bank notes, ele, Wife—This word comes from weave, welt and woof, because it was thought to be necessary for a married woman to spend ¢, great deal of time in weaving cloth for the use of her family, Hic Jacet—A Latin phrase often seen on tombs, Its meaning is, “‘here lies,” or “here he les,” More the Merrier--This phrase is found in Heywood's *‘Proverbs,” Cas ooigne's ‘‘Postes,” and a play entitled *The Soornful Lady,” by Beaumont acd Fletcher.” Hors de Combat—A French phrase, signifying completely disabled, incap- able of further resistance in a contest or fight. It is pronounced hors de com ba. In Time of Peace Prepare for War— Washington, in his speech to both houses of Congress, delivered Jaunary 8, 1790, said: “To be prepared for war is one of the most effectual means of preserying peace.” Washington bor- rowed the idea from Fox, Bishop of Herefold, who said to Henry ViIL: “The surest way to peace is a constant preparation for war.” The Romans had the axiom, Si vis pacem, para bellum. It was said of Edgar, surnamed “The Peaceful” king of England, that he pre- served peace in those turbulent times “hy being slways prepared for war,” Edgar reigned from 959 to 975, Forestry in Earope, The coltivation of forests has long been systematically pursued in France, Spain and Switzerland, The govern. ments of these vountries have expended immense sums of money in the Alpe, Pyrenees and Andennes, where only the hardiest and cheapest trees can be grown, The planting of the low-lying lands near the Garonne has added £40,- 000,000 to the wealth of France, and a tract of country once unhealthy and al- most barren has in thirty years become pulons, prosperous and active. The Snglish government is seriously consid- ering the cultivation of forests in Ire- land, Mr. Howitz, of Copenhagen, one of the highest authorities on this sub- ject, bas visited Ireland and studied its adaptibility to forest cultivation, and pronounces it one of the most favorable countries in the world for the growth of timber, ——— I ISS Webster's Forebodings, M:. Webster had forebodings concern- ing the termination of his Ife. When in New York on his way to a visit at Marsh. field, from which he never returned, he seemed fully sensible of the ravages which time and disease were making upon his system, though, as was his wont, he talked about himself less than upon any otser topic. But just as he was taking his leave a close and cherished frend, who stood at the carnage door, asked him when they should have the pleasure of secing him here again, With a slow and meas ured emphans, and a solemoity which evinced the depth of conviction from which he spoke, Mr. Webster answered, “Never, never!” His friend tried 10 make a cheerful reply, and expressed the confi. deat hopethat a month of repose at Marsh. fleld would restore him to his socustomed vigor. Mr, Webster shook his hoad sadly, but made no reply. 5 giving $100,000 to founding field, Whately and Nothampton, } Persea aR ANS ASE Bogus Buller. Butter is fast becoming a thing of the past. The hue and cry against oleomargarine and butterine is such in Washington that the district ehemist has been busy in testing the quality of butter sold by local merchants, The test for ascertaining whether an article is butter or merely an imitation is sim- ple, and is done by means of a micro scope, Butter bas no crystals; lard, butterine and oleomargerine have, Un- der a magnifying glass of sufficient power a piece of pure butter shows a globular field absolutely without crys- tals, Lard exhibits a beautiful spec- tacle of crystalized forms, and . oleo- margarine gives crystals differing great- ly from those of lard. Prof. de Bmedt, the district chemist, ont of thirteen samples, pronounced ten to be butter, Three samples were pronounced bogus, One of them was found to be a mixture of butter and bntierine, another was pronounced to be mill butter, and was composed of butter and lard, and the third was butterine. Mill batier, as it 15 called, is made of cream collected from the various small farms in differ- ent localities and mixed together. This mixture can be detected by the yarious colors to be seen in large quantities of it; and butterine is made of Isrd and butter, deodorized with a patent acid, These and similar grades of butter are bought very cheap andthe dealers make considerable profit from their sale, Out of another test of seven lots but two proved to ‘be genuine butter. Tho other five lots proved to be butleriue and oleomargarine, One sample was marked pure creamery butter, retailed at 45 cents per pound, which proved to be fine butterine, Some of the others sold for genuine butter proved to be a bad quality of oleomargarine. Butter. ine is lard melted then cooled quickly; it in afterwards thrown into a filter, and that part of the oleine that will filter through is mixed with a smsil quantity of margarine, and then taken and mixed with butter, This mixture constitutes butterine : sometimes it 13 deodorzed by sn aeid which is dangerous, and, if taken in large quantities, ‘is fatal, Margarine is one of the constituents of lard, Lard retails in Washington for 12} to 14 cents a pound. Butter from 85 cents to 50 cents a pound. To sell lard for butter and get butter prices for it is reaping = large profit, The actic of heat on lard makes it injurious for eating, In another test of Prof de Smedt fifty-three samples were sent by thirty firms, and only twenty-one of these samples were butter, most of the stuff being buiterine, More than three- fifths of the samples designated as butter were a compound, cheaply made and injurious to health, and mot butter at all, - Spot's Care for Shep. Just before the May thaw in Colorado, Mark Sampson lost his dog Bhep. Bhep was last seen playing with Bampson's other dog Spot on the crust on Ben- nett's hill. Spot came howe, but then Shep could pot be found. Mark made inquiry of every mrn and boy he met, but could Lear nothing of the lost dog. Mark would rather have lost a cow. He traveled three days oo ssow shoes, bul could not hear a word from Shep. One night, coming home late, hungry and tired, alier hours of unsuccessful search- ing, he threw himself ou the bed, and during the sleep that followed Mark dreamed the dog was in V, P. Bennett's old abandoned well, He dreamed the same dream twice, Mark had no faith in dreams, but to plesse his wile he went and looked down in the well, In the blackness he could see two stars, The well was thirty feet deep and dry. He spoke to the dog, and he could see the two siars moving round, He could hear no voice, but he knew the two stars in the botlom of the well were Bhep's two eyeg Then Mark cried, “Dog in the well!” three times. Mark 1s not low-spokensin com- mon conversation, and when he yells he makes the woods and hills shake, Ia tess than three minutes a steady stream of boys was seen going up Denvett's Hill, A line was brought, and George Russell lowered into the well When George reached the bottom he found Shep tickled almost to death to see him, He tiad been in the well four days and nights, He wasn't hungry, but was awfully dry. His hunger had been stayed in this remarkable manner: While he was laying at the boltom of the old emptf well, Spot was hang- ing around Mr. Bennett's every morning after breakfast and every evening jusi after supper, when he would always be thrown a liberal amount of food. In the bottom of the well the boy who went down in the bucket was surprised to find a considerable number of bones, and a picoe or two of well-preserved meat, which seemingly bad been left over from Spot's last meal, The path leading to the well, which Spot had made, completes the story, He had substantially remembered his companion who bad the misfortune to fall into the well, mansnisssssiarn oti AI MAS Fractional Carreney. What has become of all the fractional currency! In 1863 something over §20,- 000,000 was issued, and the amount out standing wat iereassd about §5,000,000 a yexr, until in 1874 the highest aggregale was reached, and the books of the Treasury showed nearly $46,000,000 ia circulation. The redemplion was then begun, and has continued until the present time; but mnoe 1879 the amount oulstanding has remained almost stationary, with a bal sace of £7.010,000 wm favor of the Gov. ernment at the end of the last fiscal year, June 30, 1883. Durning nine months of the present fireal year only $16,000 has been offered for redemption, jeaving ontstanding $6,984,000, the greater quantity of which is either lost or destroyed, or in the-hands of cunosity- collectors, Some of it 18 hanging ®n frames in the offices of bankers, wad com snd postage-stamp dealers furnish it to customers at a premium of about 200 cont. The Government will proba. y be the geiver by Us scheme of Scoretary Chase, to the amount of §6,- 500,000, us the Treasury officials do mot bebieve that much more will be sent mn redemption, Clean poces are never receivgpd now-adays, and that wiich comes in is so ragged sud sotled us 10 be worthless as a cunosity,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers