FARM, HARDER ARD HOUSEHOLD. <•' alitor Hers* •table*. As long as we can remember, the question as to the best floors for horse stables has been discussed. We have tried clnv and ordinary dirt, but they did not prove satisfactory. Holes w oula be dug almost daily by the forefeet' the urine would gather there, and unless great care was taken to fill them up and to smooth over the soil daily and wash the horses' feet, scratches would follow, and probably what is commonly called quarter-crack result, which is likely permanently to injure the animals. Sand and even sawdust have been recommended, but as they were clearly not desirable, we never tried cither. We began with plank flooring, wore dissuaded from using it, but have re turned to it, and found it preferable to the others. Wo prefer hemlock, a double two-inch plank, with the front part kept well covered with strawat all times for the fore-feet, and at nights to be well-bedded with straight rye straw. We have found no disadvantages from the flooring; the feet have not suffered, so far as we can discover. Some oiyect to the planks, first, because they are hard, and others that they be come slippery, ami the horse is liable to fall and strain himself in getting up; but, if we re member rightly, the plank roads were not objected to on account of their hard ness or slipperyncss; and as to slipping, if the flooring is a little inclined the water is carried back, whence a slight gutter, also inclining somowhat, either removes it from the stable on the outside, or it is allowed to pass under the floor through small hole 9 in the gutter. But where these arrangements have not been made, a covering of sifted coal ashes over the floor will pre vent the slipping. We have known floors in stalls to be made of boards or planks turned up on an edge, which is about as hard as anything can be; also, of flagstones, mortar, and even of aa phaltum, all which we should suppose might prove injurious to the animal, but we have never heard that they were. Hemlock planks, laid as we have mentioned, will prove, take all the cir cumstances into consideration, about as satisfactory as anything that can be substitu'ed, and far neater and notmore expensive.— GernvtiUotrn Telegraph. Currant* and Tbctr Cultivation. The first requisite is, not wetness, but abundant and continuous moisture. Soil naturally deficient in this, and which cannot be made drouth-resisting by deep plowing and cultivation, is not adapted to the currant. Because the currant is found wild in bogs it does not follow that it can be grown successfully in undrained swamps. It will do better in such places than on dry, gravelly knolls, or on thin, light soils, but our fine civilized varieties need civilized conditions. The well-drained swamp fnay become the very best of currant fields; and damp, heavy land that is capable of deep, thorough cultivation should be selected if possible. When such is not to be had, then by deep plowing, sub-soiling, by abundant mulch around the plants throughout the sum mer, and by occasional waterings in the garden, counteracting the etfeeta of lightness and dryness of soil, skill can go far in making good nature's deficien cies. Next to depth of soil and moisture the currant requires fertility. It is justly called one of the " gross feeders," and is not particular as to the quality of its food so that it is abundant. 1 would still suggest, however, that it be fed ac cording to its nnture with heavy com posts in which muck, leaf-mold and the cleanings of the cow stable are largely present. Wood-ashes and bone-meal are also most excellent. II stable or other light manures must lie used,-1 would suggest that they be scattered liberally on the surface in the fall or early spring, and gradually worked in by cultivation. Thus used, their light heating qualities will do no harm, and they will keep the surface mellow and therefore, moist. — E. P. Roe. Uraftlss. Every young man who aspires to the honor of owning a farm should acquire the skill necessary for doing his own grafting. Only a few tools are required, and a little practice under the instruc tion of a competent teacher will enable anyone who has a reasonable amount of docility to put in grafts successfully. To do the business as it should be done requires good judgment, a knowledge of the laws of growth, and of the rules by which one should be guided in the in teresting process of causing a tree to bear just the kind of truit desired. In grafting a young tree care should be taken to form a well-shaped top. Too jo Xuma the limbs should not be cut off for grafting, and after the grafts have had a year's growth great care should be taken to cut away just enougli and not any more of the remaining linilis. If they are all cut away the tree will suffer and will not have sufficient foliage to keep it in a growing and thrifty con dition. If too little is removed the graft:, will be shaded and cramped in their growth and the labor of grafting well nigh lost. When the trees are large, it is necessanr to know what limbs to cut away for grafting, how , many kis desirable to graft and of what size. To make the scions grow, it is necessary to manipulate the process very skillfully, so that the ascending sap will enter the bark of the scion and start it into life. The wax must be made so as to protect the wounded limb, and re •main till the scion is well started in its new growth. Drafting wax may be made by melting together four pounds of common rosin, two pounds of bees wax and one pound of tallow. If to be UAcd in the orchard in cool weAther, add a quarter of a pound more of tallow, or a little raw Unseed oil. The only too's needod are a fine saw. a wedge shaped instrument for splitting the stock, a small hammer, and asharp knife for cutting the scions. Record anJ Farmer. • ■lllSM. BUNS.— Ore and one-half cups of new milk, one eup of nice yeast, one-half cup of sugar; mix with flour enough to form a thin baiter; let it risef rom night till morning, then, if wry light, add one teaspoenful of salaratus, one cup of sugar, one-half cup melted butter, the whites of two eggs, essence of lemon and some currants. Mix stiff and let it raise until quite light, then mold into small cakes and put thera on a baking tin to rise once more, giving them space to spread enongh to join each other. I)o not let them get sour, but as soon as light wet the tops with the white ol an egg, sprinkle with while sugar and bake in a quick oven. HERMAN PANCAKES. —Sift three\nble spoonfuls of flour, add a saltspoonful of Bait and a teaspoonful of pulverised HU^ar; mix dry: break four eggs and beat up whites and yolks, and pour flour. Bait and sugar into them; stir thor oughly, then last add a quart of milk; take a clean thin frying-pan, and use only the best butter, about a tablespoon ful will Bufflce; when the butter is bias ing hot, but not brown, pour in the bat ter; they ought to cook through from the lower side; roll up before serving, and powder with pulverized sugar; serve as hot as possible, and cat with lemon juice. If you want to stripe them, heat a skewer, and. having added sugar outside, apply the hot iron in streaks. KHU'ASSKF. OK CAI.K'9 TONOUH.— BoiI the tongue one hour; pare and cut into thick slices; roll them in flour and fry in dripping five .minutes; put the tongues into a saucepan: add sliced onion, thyme and parsley; cover with a cupful of your soup or other gravy; simmer half an hour, covered tightly; take up the tongues and keep them warm; strain the gravy, thicken, put in tour or five thin slices of lemon from which the peel has been taken; boil one minute, and pour over the fricnasee. Dairy Notes. In the manufacture of butter the CUB tom has become general after churning to wash the butter with cold brine of greater or less strength, not only to wash it once, but twice, if the first washing docs not remove every trace of buttermilk. An exchange says that white-oak firkins soaked for two days in sour milk, when washed outnnd soaked one day in strong brine, and then rubbed thoroughly with salt make the beet ves sels for packing butter. The secretary of the Royal Agricul tural society, of England, advises to stop the churn when the butter is the size of a pin-head, draw off the butter milk and water, and repeat this water bath until no buttermilk remains. In this he differs from many dairymen, who churn until the butter reaches the size of wheat grains. Butter must bo packed while perfectly fresh. Immediately after the final working it should be put away in the packages. Mr. X. A. Willard expresses the be lief that " ropy " milk is due to weeds, bad water and bad treatment to cows, and Professor Knglehart once said he knew it was a weed. Dr. Leffmann lias known it to stop when cows were changed from good to bad water, and as for weeds the disease appears atjall, times. A Canada correspondent recommends when butter will not "come" placing a small piece of fresh butter in the churn, which will cause the globules to gather. If that fails, the best way is to place the cream in a vessel and put that ves sel in another containing liot water on the top of a 3tove. Bring the cream to a temperature of about eighty degrees, then churn. llouacHold lllnla. The best meat requires the simplest preparation. Never mix or place on the same dish, meats or vegetables that are unlike in flavor. To boil meat, when the meat is to be eaten, plunge it in lioiling water, so as to sear the outside and retain the juices. To make soup, when the object is to extract all the juices from the meat, cut up in small pieces and put on in cold water. To roast meat properly, the air must have free a cess to it. This is the rea son why meat roasted before an open fire is more palatable than that roasted (baked) in a close oven. Cheap utensils, of whatever kind, get out of order easily and usually cumber the kitchen, and annoy everybody who has anything to do with them. In all things relating to cookery the beat is the cheapest. Neatness is the first virtue in the ! kitchen. The dishes of a careless cook ail have a mixed flavor, as if cooked in one pot. The general rule is to cook long and slowly, with an even heat, so as to reach every part. Frying ought to be the last method for cooking meats. Broil, boil, roast, stew or bake in preference. The flock Trade. The trade in clocks has been excellent, and from September to January dealers experienced very great difficulty in ob taining goods ordered from manufactur ers. A great change has come over the clock industry, and where there were only half a dozer standard patterns there are now a hundred. Novelties are constantly appearing. There are swin ing clocks, with and without mirr rs; clocks with inkstands, with fcOQ loir perfumery, ornaments and alarms. Nickel goods predominate. Of one make alone one dealer in Boston ha s sold, in two years, 15,000. Ameri can mnnufaeturers now make an imi tation French clock, which can be sold to retail for 96 50, while the French clock would cost 920 to 925. American makers also make imitation marble goods after French patterns, and copy ing French movements. More French clocks are being sold than formerly, but fully two-thirds of those purchased are for presents. Wooden clocks are still used, and at the West walnut frames are much sold. Roslon Journal. Brought Back to Life. A most extraordinary case of resusci tation is reported to have taken place at Kaab, about sixty miles from Pesth, in Hungary. A young oonvict named Takacs, who had murdered two women, was hanged. He was about twenty three years of age. After the body was cut down and examined by the physi cians life was pronounced extinct. Asa scientific experiment the body was sub jected to an electro-galvanic current, and after a few hours signs of life were pi-rceptible. The resuscitated convict completely recovered the use of his senses, and his first actions were of violence toward the prison officials by whom he was sur rounded. He soon began to suffer from congestion of the brain and bpcame de lirious during the night. He made re peated attacks upon the keepers and complained of violent pains, asking from time to time for milk and water. Death released him finally from his suf ferings. A pretty anecdote is told of a little girl to whom the unseen world is very real. "Whore does Qod live, mamma?" she asked'one evening after saying tier prayers. "He lives in heaven, my deer, in the celestial city, whose streets are paved with gold." " Oh, yes, I know that, mamma," she said with great so lemnity. " but what's bis number?"— IJarper'l Young PmpU. The H Arizona Diamidi." A writer in the San Francisco Call re vive! the recollection of the famous and fabulous story of the Arizona diamond fields, and gives its origin in this wise: Several years ago the always large floating Bohemian population of San Francisco included Thomtts Seymour, who will be remembered by many of the profession, and who was a kind of para graphic tramp, having successfully done "local itemizing" on every paper of every town west of the Rocky mountains. Seymour's knowledge of the topography of this slope was a most detailed one, and had been painfully acquired by al ways going afoot, but always of necessity anu never of choice, from the place where his usefulness had just been ex hausted to where he hoped to have it re newed. In San Francisco Seymour made his usually precarious living by writing specials for the Sunday edition of such pspere as would buy them. By virtue of the common guild of vagabondage Seymour had uiaile the acquaintance in this city of one who was, when his energies set in any direction whatever, a mining prospe tor. " How do you newspaper fellows live?" once asked the prospector curiously of Seymour. "Come with me and I will show you," said Seymour, and he led the other to his meagerly furnished room. " Now; see. Here's a good two columns. I'll probably get sl2 for this. Listen," and Sovmour subjected his friend to the foar ful punishment of listening to an nuthor reading h>s own manuscript. " Were you ever there, at that pince described?" asked the miner, who had listened with out an interruption to the lull reading. "Well, I was never exactly there, but I've been nenr where that place is supposed to be, and it's a tough coun try. " What put it into your head to spin such a yarn as that? There's no truth in it." "Anything is true that you can't prove to be false. How can one prove that it ain't true?" The miner dropped his head in his hands, thought lonir and intently with out moving, notwithstanding Seymour's growing impatience to get back to the beer cellar from which tliey had issued. Finally, the prospector asked ahruptly: " What's the most a paper'll give for that roorback?" "Oh, 912 or SIB at the outside." " Does anybody else know about that yarn?" • " Not a person." " Say, Seymour," said the miner, after another pause, " I know something about that country, too There am t no stones there, that's a fact; but that whopper you have there is a pearl itself, if you only knew it. I'll give you 925 for it, and if you keep your mouth mum on it I will make that story pay you better than all the yarns you ever spun in your life." Seymour gladly made the sale, and soon lost sight of his friend and in succeeding literary inventions that which he had sold, not for publi cation, bad long been forgotten, when, individually, he was astounded at the announcement of the discovery of the great Arizona diamond fields, in almost the identical spot where he had lo cated in a newspaper fiction a field of precious stones. That announcement was one that startled the whole civil ized world. Seymour followed the suc cessively-announced facts with the in tense interest of one who believed that his own genius had been prophetic. Then came the even more startling ex position of the even more wonderful fact that the diamond field was the crudest, most barefaced and most enormous "plant" that had ever been made in Pacific coast mining. The pros pector, whom Seymour ncvpr saw ngain, was not one to forget his prom ises, for Seymour received an unsigned letter, presumably from him. and in closing a certified check for 81.WOO, and which reads as follows: "Do you think I have improved on your story? I think so. It has made a great deal more than two columns, and as it was very interesting, I inclose what I hope you will think fair pay for it. When you invent another equally good dia mond field or a gold mine, or anything of that sort, please hunt me up. as I will give the stoiy point, and it will be tor the interest of both of us." Sey mour was so startled that it was long after the diamond pant had lost its in terest that it was generally known that it was founded on the invention of a Bohemian and that it was only acci dental that its interest was not the ephemeral one of the publication of a surprising story in a newspaper. Words of Wisdom. Vice lias more martyrs than virtue. The wise and active conquer diffi culties by daring to attempt them. He is not only idle who does nothing, hut lie is idle who might be better em ployed. No books are so legible as the lives ot men; no characters so plain as their moral conduct. No degree of knowledge attainable by mnn is nble to sot him above the want of hourly assistance. If a man iiave love in his heart, he may talk in broken language. but it will bo eloquence to those who listen. The generality ol nun expend the early part of their lives in contributing to render the latter part miserable. If a mnn have love in his heart, he may talk in broken language, hut it will be eloquence to those who listen. A sin without its punishment ia as impossible, as complete a contradiction in terms, a* a cause without an sflTect. If a man is determined to do the best lie can. whether he drives a cart, con ducts a busine s of a million dollars, or preaches the gospel, he cannot fail. Frivolity, under whatever form it ap pears, takes from attention its strength, from thought its originality, from feel ing its earnestness If a man does not make new "acquaint ances as he advances through life, he will soon And himself alone. A man should keep his friendships in constant repair. Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again; wisely improve the present, it is thine; go forth ta meet the shadowy future without fear, and with a manly heart. Some one has beautifully aid that sincerity is speaking as we think, be lie ving as we F retena, acting as we pro fess, performing as wo promise, and be ing as we appear. Poverty is the load of some, and wealth is the load of others, perhaps the greater load of the two. It may weigh them down to perdition. Bear the load of thy neighbor's poverty and let him bear with thee the load of thy wealth. Thou lightenest thy load by lightening his. How MpeeUcle* are Hade. The while lons in use in the ordinary spectacle of commerce Is made of the common window-pane glass rolled in sheets; sometimes it is made into balls. From these are cut pieces of about one and a quarter to one and a half inches in size; they are then taken into the grlndlng-room and each piece cemented separately upon what is called a lap, of a semi-circular shape. These are made to fit into a corresponding curve or saucer, into which fine emery powder is introduced, and subjected to a swift rotary motion. The gradual curve in the lap gives to the glaes as it is ground a corresponding shape, until the desired center is reached. The lap is then taken and subjected to warmth, which melts the cement sufficiently to permit the Slass being removed nnd turned upon le opposite side, when the same pro cess is renewed. This bein<{ completed, the lenses are detached again from the lap and taken to another department, where they are shaped to tit the frames. This is accomplished by a machine of extreme delicacy. Each piece of glass is put separately upon a rest, when a diamond is brought to bear upon it, moving in the form of an oval thus cutting the desired size; bu the edges, of course, are rouph and sharp and must be beveled. For this purpose they arc turned over intona - other set of hands, mostly girls, who have charge of the grindstones, which are about six inches in thickness. Each operator is provided with a gauge; the glass is taken between the forefinger and thumb, and held sufficiently side ways to produce the desired bevel: when this is attained it is again turned and the other side of the bevel com pleted. During this process it is con stantly ganged in order to ascertain that the frame will close upon it with out too much pressure, which would break the lens. The next process to which the lens is subjected is that of " focusing," and re quires extreme care. The person hav ing tills department to attend to is placed in a small room aione; across the entrance is hung a curtain, which is only drawn aside suflicientlv to admit the required amount of light from a win dow several feet away, upon one of the top panes of which is placed a piece of heavy cardboard with a small iiole cut in the center representing the bull's-eye of a target. Through this the rays of light shine upon the lens in the hands of a workman, and are re flected through it to a dark background. The lens Is then moved back and forth upon an inch measure until the proper focus is attained. Say. for instance the extreme end of the measure is sixty two inches, the iens is placed at that, but does not focus; it is gradually moved along, inch by inch, until, per haps, it is brought to thirty-six Inches At this the proper height of center or focus is attained, and it is then num bered thirty-six. The same operation is of course necessary witli every lens. This accounts for the numbers which are upon spectacles or glasses of any kind when purchnsed. Where Oranges Come From. The domestic product of the United States has gr*atly increased within a few years, and is ftkely to increase very much more. Tbe orange is believed by many to be a native of America. In the region of the gulf of Mexico, though lO a week. A Curl as GssUUn Contest. An odd competition was recently wit nessed by an American who has just re turned from Europe. It was between two artists in capillary cultivation, a Frenchman and a Swiss. Six ladies with abundant hair, submitted them selves to the contestants to be used as illiMtrations of the rise and progress of hairdressing. The Gaul began with the mode obtaining in the Scriptural age, drawing his authorities from Holy Writ and other records. The Swiss be gan wffli the simple modes of ancient Greece, then showed how a Roman maid and matron of the later empire bnilt up and dusted with gold, and bow the Middle Ages plastered down their hair in Europe and frizzei themselves in Asia. The rolled forehead of the Stuarts, the tower style of Pompadour, the ringlets of Anne, the eccentric Georgian styles, all received a rapid and interesting il lustration during two hours, at the end of which the Frenchman was announced to be the victor. liormah and It* Pesple. The following is an interesting account of Burmah, the country ruled by King Theebau, who brutally murdered sev eral hundred of bis relatives last year: Burmah. a kingdom of the Indo-Chinese peninsula, has. as it now exists, three well marked divisions, Northern Bur mah, Burmah proper and the Eastern Shan, tributary states. The inhabi tants belong to the branch of the Mon goiidie distinguished by a monosyllabic language; they are short-headed, broad skulled, flat-faced, have black hair, and dark brown skin, and resemble the Mongols more than the Hindus. Both sexes wear a white linen jacket, called in-gie; the men wrapping round the lower part of the bodv the put so, several yards long, and the women wearing the te-mine, a scant silk or cotton garment, to which are added on occasion silks, muslins and gold ornaments. The men and women alike smoke cigars and chew betel-nuts to ex cess. The former are, for the most part, robust and well-made, and excel in box ing. rowing, wrestling and other athletic exercises, and have considerable me chanic \1 skill. The houses are a frame work of bamboo, thatched with the water palm, and are built on posts several f.et from the ground. The women, more industrious than the men, buy, sell, weave and attend to do mestic duties. Both sexes are very fond of feasting, sight-seeing, buffoonery, theatricals and buffalo fighting. The natives are attached to their home, though they are far from patriotic. Witb , out individual cruelty, they are indiffer ent to the shedding of blood by their rulers, and, while temperate and hardy, are hostile to discipline and continued labor of any sort. When in authority they are often arrogant, tyrannical and corrupt. Besides ths genuine Burmans a variety of race# in habits the kingdom. The Moans, or Telaings, descended from the ancient P. guana, arc largely amalgamated with the regular natives, and the Shans. or Tai, the most numerous perhaps of the Indo-Chinese peoples, are distributed over the peninsula from Munnipore to Bangkok. Some of the Eastern Shan states are tributary to Burmah, others to Si am. those west of the Irawaddy be ing entirely under Burman rule. Budd hism, the prevailing religion, has bttn preserved in great purity; its shrines, temples and monuments are numberless, and its festivals rigidly observed. Ths government is hereditary and despotic, the sovereign being assisted by a council of the nobility, over whose members he exercises a kind of feudal jurisdiction. Alter luj Dip, The Watertown (N. Y.) Dcspafck re lates the following singular story of a long lost letter: In the spring of 1869 a citisen of Watertown em harked for Alexandria, Va., to become the pub lisher of a daily newspaper of that city. Leaving a young wife and little daugh ter aged two years, he took his depart ure for the Sunny South, sending bark on his journey missives of affection, from day to day. giving his b tter half information regarding His progress and success. A fe * days after his departure, the wife wrote him a long Utter, such a one as the young and ardent heart in its loneliness away from ftiesßs and home, delights to receive, and on a sep arate slip the little daughter impressed her remembrance in pencil marks, which were to pass as little kisses for papa. But the letter did not reach its destination,and for eighteen years the one for whom it was intended remained oblivious to the fact that such a letter had been rent. To bis surprise and utter astonishment, on Saturday last, be took from the poslofßoe in this city (Water town), a letter bearing postmark IMS; a penny stamp covering the three-cent stamp put on at tbetime of mailing, and the envelope giving evidence that it had 'wen received at Washington, D. C\. eighteen years ago. A new suptrecrip tion —the ward "city," freshly written —was all the eme afforded to the history oft his missive of affection long deferred. The presumption, howevr, is that *om6 member of the army from Water town was entrusted at Wash m ton with the delivery of the letter, and. for some reason, he a)ectod to to d .and while ooklng overltls o d papers, discovered it end delivered it to the Watavtown poetoAoe. . O T ,fc Uno S *?■■*>•• •ooro.l ft thiaf " V"* IftWr W>JT. rd soo dftMftcat u ft dTii uU.