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,