• The English Language.
A pretty deer is dear to mo,
A hare with downy hair;
llove a hart with all my heart,
But barely bear a bear.
T is plain that no one takes a plane
To have a pair of pairs;
A rake, though, otten takes a rake
To tear away the tares.
All rays raise thyme, time razes all;
And, through the whole, hole wears.
A writ, in writing " right," may write
It " wright," and still bo wrong—
For " write" ami " rite " are neither " right,'
And don* Ito write belong.
Beer otten brings a bier to man,
Coughing a coffin brirgs,
And too much ale will make us ail,
As well as other things.
The person lies who says he lies
When he is hot reclining;
And, when consumptive tolks decline,
They all decline declining.
A quail don't quail boiore a storm —
A bough will l>ow before it;
We cannot rein the rain at all—
No earthly powers reign o'er it,
The dyer dyes awhile, then dies;
To dye he's always trying,
Until apon his dying-bed
He thinks no more ol dyeing.
A son ot Mars mars many a sun;
All deys must have their days,
And every knight should pray each night
To Him who weighs his ways.
Tis meet that man should mete out meat
To teed mistortune's son;
The lair should tare on love alone,
Else one cannot be won.
A lass, alas ! is something false;
Ot faults a maid is made;
Her waist is bat a barren waste-
Though stayed, she is not staid.
The springs spring torth in spring, and shoots
Shoot torward one and all;
Though gammer kills the flowers, it leaves
The leaves to tall in fall.
I would a story hero commence,
But you might And it stale;
80 let's suppose that wo have reached
The tail end ot oar tola.
TOO SUSCEPTIBLE.
I am German by birth, but was left
an orphan at an early age and sent to
Bt. Petersburg to be "raised" by two
old maiden aunts, who regarded me
with curiosity and dislike, as if "a
bounding human boy " were an odd and
rather disagreeable animal; but they
tolerated mc after a while, and did their
best for me.
I felt that I was intended for some
thing better than to be a clerk in a jew
elry store; I ultd to feel the stir of
foung ambition in my heart whenever
passed the " Eeole des Pages " in the
Sadovoic—that great gilt structure, so
imposing, yet of the color ot baJf-baked
gingerbread.
But I determined to rise, and, even in
the ignoble sphere in which I found my
self, I soon made my way, and was at
last cofindential clerk in Carnreis &
Shoveloff, the greatest house in their
line in St. Petersburg.
Old Carnreis had been a diamond
dealer in Frankfort, and had experience.
Shoveloff was a Russian, and had put in
a large capital; but we have nothing to
do with tnem.
I found myself at twenty-three in the
above-mentioned prosperous situation,
and, moreover, engaged to a very pretty
girl—an heiress. I had therefore some
reason to congratulate myself on a cer
tain December night when, after taking
leave of Lisa, I was walking rapidly
home under the sparkling deep blue
sky. well wrapped in furs, and quite
warmed by my own thoughts.
We were so near the wedding now
there was scarcely a chance of faimre.
To be sure old Schroeder, a fat, tallowy
looking man in the candle trade, had
never regarded me with favor.
His Lisa, he thought, should have
done much better than to throw herself
away on a fellow who had nothing ex
cept a salary. But the young girl was
his only child, and had at last won her
way with him. So it came to pass I
had the prospect before me of being a
rich man; and I thought of that perhaps
more than I did of the young girl who
was giving me her heart's purest and
best affections. So you will say I
deserve all that followed; and perhaps
I do, but that is poor comfort.
Lisa was a pretty little thing, with
hair and eyes like a brown robin, and n
winning trusting look that made a man
feel like gathering her up in his arms
and taking care other. At the same time
she had never stirred the depths of my
being, and she was not the least like my
ideal. Still I was quite serenely happy
the next day as I went about my work,
thinking of the future.
"To-morrow, Conrad, my boy," I
said to myself, "you will set your toot
on another round of the ladder of for
tune—you will have one of the best and
truest ol girls for your bride, and a good
round sum with her. She is not a dia
mond of the first water, to be sure, but
more like a pear!—soft, moon beamy,
and—"
At that moment a swish of silken
drapery startled me, and the tap of
French heels on tfie floor. I looked up
and beheld such a vision of beauty that
I felt like closing my eyes as it too much
igbt bad daszled me. A lady, young,
yet with the ripeness and bloom of
ummer, instead ol the blush and pro
mise ot spring, stood before me.
She was dressed in a costly combina
;ion of silk and velvet. She wore asa
ble cloak, and diamond pendants at her
ears. But I scarcely saw the jewels,
although in that line, for looking into a
pair of golden fringed violet eyes that
rested upon me—well, I might say
plunged their glances into me—in a
strange and heart-fluttering style.
For the rest, the lady had waving
Eoiden hair, rippling very low down on
er white forehead, a straight Grecian
nose, a pale, high bred complexion,with
a faint aristocratic bloom in It, and a
mouth—ah. well, so rare and sweet no
words could do it justice!
" I would like, she said, in a voice
that seemed to melt into the air and
make it all resonant with music, " to
look at some of your very finest dia
monds."
There was no one in the store that day
but Alexis, a joung relative of Shove
toff's who was learning the business.
Alexis wns a youth with fawn-col
ored bair, white eyelashes and a suety
complexion; very absent-minded, and
given to writing sonnets to some young
Alexandrine Jhe at the
5 ' . . g °°* €ber
ries, in a frenzy of poetical composition
that very moment, and seemed Quite
obvious ol the presence that illumined
the place.
Ilow insanely glad I felt that jt was
my lot to show the jewels, watching all
the time the changing expression of the
lovely eyes and the glitter of the golden
hair!
The lady wanted the best —of course
sL* did; nothing but regal jewels be
fitted her royal styleof beauty. Ishowed
her all. with a fierce wonder at my
heart whether she were choosing for her
bridal, whether she were merely ex
amining previous to some (gallant young
officer or grand noble driving up and
finishing the bargain, as his wedding
gift to his bride.
There was a superb necklace upon
which she had fixed her attention for
some time.
" I must own to a weakness for dia
monds," she said, with a winning laugh,
raising her eyes from the jewels and
resting them on mine in a lingering
way, tiiat set all my pulses madly beat-
Ing.
•' I do not wonder at it, madam," I
said, with an imbecile smile. "The
glittering stones must suit you well.
They must borrow light from you,
though they cannot add to the —"
Here I stopped short. I felt a hot
flush rising to my face. What! was I
making fullsome compliments to a
woman I had never seen before—a cus
tomer merely? I wondered she did not
scathe me with a glance like heat
lightning. I was relieved to hear her
laugh.
"You should praise your jewels, not
your customers," she said, lightly, and
it seemed to me her eyes looked kindly
into mine, as if she read my heart.
And what right had Ito care for her
glances?
I thought of Lisa with a tinge of re
proach. Bah! I said the next moment,
because I am to be married must I
never feel that a woman is beautiful
again? I can admire her as a piece of
statuary or a picture.
"Yes, I may say I have a passion for
thesplendid stones," she went on, gay ly.
" though they are so cold and white and
hard—so soulless, as one might say.
My husband indulges mc."
All, ye gods, her husband!
"He has promised me anything I
choose for the anniversary of our wed
ding. Fancy, it is the first, you see.
Perhaps when we have passed several
of these milestones he will not be so
complacent."
" I should think time would only in
crease his rapture." I stammered.
"Oh, you are very gallant !" with a
charming gesture. "You should be a
courtier; but I must not allow you to
say such things to me. Ten thousand
rubles—with the earrings P Ah, it is a
great price, but I think he will not
grumble."
"He Bhould not !" I said, emphati
cally.
"No?" with a playful look; " but he
must see them first. lie is so busy I can
never have his company. His position
is so confining you know. But of course
you do not know."
She took out a card from a silver fila
gree case.
" MADAME PIERRE BEKNHOKK."
Who had not heard of Doctor Pierre
Bernboff and his celebrated institution
for the insane? So skillful, so success
ful was his system that patients came
from far and near—or. rather, I should
not say these patients came; they were
always brought.
But a man who had made such a
reputation must be old, I thought, and I
cast'a glance that was haif-pity on the
blooming woman who had, perhaps,
sacrificed herself for a home, position
and wealth.
"I suppose that young man is sane?"
she asked, with a glance at Alexis, who
was in the throes of composition, and
rolling his eyes in an imbecile manner.
"On, yes—as sane as poets usually
are," I answered, with a laugh.
"Then I suppose you can leave the
place with him while von bring this
lovely set to show my husband? My
carriage is at the door."
There was no trouble about that. Al
though Alexis was in the clouds, he was
very wide-awake when a customer en
tered, if he was in charge: otherwise,
he laid down all responsibility.
We drove through the Nevskoi—that
corridor of palaces and churches—past
the splendid Alexandra theater and the
Place Michel, with its English square,
so refreshingly green in summer.
"Ah, here we are!" she cried, as the
carriage stopped before a great, gloomy
looking building. "I am sorry to have
given you so much trouble."
The next moment she had opened
the door of a room at one side of the
hall.
" If you will step in here a moment I
will go and see where my husband is.
I cannot always send a servant after
him. because there are times when he
must not be interrupted. I think be is
in his office. Where are the jewels?"
I had held the rase in my hand till
this moment.
"I can show them to him and he will
decide in three moments. Between you
and me, he knows nothing whatever of
diamonds. Of brains—diseased brains—
he knowß considerable, but his ignor
ance on other points is dense."
With a gay laugh that seemed to
stir up shudi.cring echoes in the silence,
she took the case In her hand and went
out, shutting the door behind her.
It was a Targe room, and somewhat
vault-like, I thought, in appearance*
There was a great Russian store of white
china in one corner that looked like a
sarcophagus of an ecclesiological pat
tern, with pinnacle and spire. There
was a much-gilded picture of St. Nicho
las on the wall—that patron saint who
is found in every Russian house.
1 did not find much room for specu
lation in that room, or food for thought.
Indeed. I had gotten all through, and
was going the rounds again and again
rather impatiently.
Perhaps the lady had not found the
Herr Doctor, or he might be hesitating
about the price. Impossible to look
in her face, I thought, and haggle over
a few hundred rubles.
When one is the fortunate possessor
of inch a jewel—why, the door is locked!
I have just turned the knob with the in
tention of looking out to see If my en
chantress is coming. I fall back in con
sternation. What does it mean?
Before I have a chance to speculate
about its meaning, tin door opens and
two persons enter. A stout man with
the complexion of a kidney potato, and
a stiff little aureole of red hair. He
wears a green cloth suit with gilt but
tons, on which the imperial eaglr
spreads itself.
The other individual is an old woman,
with three chins and a snuffy appear
• Ah!" mid the fat gentleman,
rime?"*' " 6Bd h ° W *** W# hy thls
I look at him in a puzzled way, and he
scrutinizes mc.
"Where is the lady?" I ask, some
what impatiently.
"The ladyP Oh, your wife thought
it would be plcosanter for her not to see
you again just at present. After a few
days, when you are at home and
calmer."
"Calmer! What the deuce do you
mean?" I asked, turning fiercely on
him.
" There, there. Not the least use in
that; all in good time. She will come,
never fear; I have seldom seen a more
charming and affectionate creature. ' I
cannot part with him," she said; 'it
wrings my heart."'
"See here, I can't for the life of me
make out what you mean. Let me see
the doctor —Doctor Pierre Bernhoff."
The fat man shrugged his shoulders.
" Well, I am Doctor Pierre Bernhoff."
" Where Is your wifeP"
He regarded mc as one docs a trouble
some child, then lifted his eyes with a
look above.
"In heaven."
"Good gracious! I)o you mean to
say that I did not drive up here with
your wife a half-hour ago. and that she
did not show you a case containing ten
thousand rubles' worth of diamonds for
your decision P"
"Ah, diamonds t"said he, indulgently.
"Yes, yes—so you did. But you must
have patience. She'B gone now to show
them to the Cham of Tartary, whose
daughter is to wed to-morrow the Baalu-
Bazook of Shiraz, and will wear your
jewels on her neck. Ha, ha! Mashouka.
you must have help. This is no mila
case, as the lady represented."
I saw the whole plot at a glance. My
imbecile fancy had led me straight into
it. I cursed my own folly and began to
tell the doctor the truth as rapidly al
possible; but I saw it had no effect, s
Begged him to send at once to Carnrei
& Shoveloff's for confirmation. I knew
Alexis hod not least idea of my where
abouts.
The doctor listened patiently, blandly
and assented to all. But I felt a horri
ble certainty that he would do nothing.
Why should he trouble himself with the
vagaries of a lunaticP
" If monsieur will be patient, it shall
all be done—to-morrow, I dare say."
" flood God!" I cried, a sudden horror
striking a terror to my heart. "lam
to be married to-morrow!"
The doctor evidently regarded this as
a fresh outburst of insanity.
"To be sure, to be sure," he said,
soothingly; " but it will all come right.
It would have to be put off any way,
for Madame Sninpski has not finished
the wedding dress."
"Oh, for lieaven's sake!" I cried. In
the most abject terror, " do not talk to
me in that style, or you will drive me
mad in earnest! Can you not see that
this woman was an adventuress—that
this is a clever trick to rob us of ten
thousand rubles' worth of diamonds?"
"It reminds me of the castf we had
last fall—squint-eyed party—who had
been robbed of the Robinson," mur
mured the doctor to the nurse.
And then I lost all command of my
self, and made a mad effort to escape. I
flung myself suddenly ngvinst the doctor
and doubled him up; but he old woman
flew on me like a tigress, and fought
tooth and nail. She was a powerful
creature, as were all the employees of
the p'ace; and beneath the vast cwAi
ions of fat were mnscles of steel and a
frame of iron. Then she never ceased
yelling for help, and, of course. I was
overpowered in three moments, while
the doctor, recovering from his tempor
ary collapse, glared at mc rather vin
dictively, his face the color of rasp
berry-jam from rage and pain,
There was no hope of his listening to
anything after that, and I felt that my
chance was gone. So I allowed myself
to be led to a bare cell and locked in.
Then I had a chance for reflecttion
The sou was going down. I knew that
I must spend the night there, and per
haps many a night. How wns I ever to
be found? Carnreis & Shoveloff migli
publish the loss of the diamonds. There
wns a slight hope in that: but it would
take a (lay or two to give the matter
publicity, and my wedding was to be
to-morrow! Then it was more likely
they would go to work in a secret way,
which is more popular in Russia, and
not bacathe a word openly of the loss,
and what would become of me in the
meantime? They might even think I
was in league with the handsome ad
venturess, and had gone off with her to
enjoy the ill-gotten gains!
All these things burned and seethed
in my brain, till it seemed as if I, too,
must break out into important raving,
or blood-curd ling oaths, or passionate
prayers, such as re-echoed through
the longeorridors about me; for I was
in thai department of the institution
marked " Violent," and 1 could hear all
night long the wails—the groans, the
gibbcrings, the mad outbreaks of vio
lence, the sudden shrieks and crashes,
that seemed to torture the very echoes.
Morning at last—through a barred
window that "slurred the sunshine
half n mile"; yet I knew by even that
pale beam that the sun had ris n upon
my wedding day 1
My wedding day! Lisa was kneeling
perhaps at that moment breathing a
prayer tor our future iiappiness. She
was a pious little thing, I knew. I pic
tured her lifted soft brown eyes, full of
fears and hopes: her pretty folded hands.
I had never loved her enough, but
now—now that she seemed slipping
away from me, now that a horrible
chance hap severed ns—she grew sud
denly dear and precious.
" Lisa," I groaned "oh, my darling,
pray—pray as you have never done he
tore for my destiny hangs on that
prayer I"
On, how slowly the hour* crept on I
The little bar of dusty gold that lay
upon the floor of my cell grew broader
feebly. It seemed thinner as it
broadened. I thought of its fading
with horror.
Good heavens! Is-there no help for
it—none P Most I sit here, the sport of
circumstances—an innocent victim,
while my poor girl breaks her heart over
the strange delay P I grow frantic. I
oall oat. I implore. I beg (lie keepers
to come to ms. I adjure them by the
memory of their mothers —of their
sweethearts and wives, to listen to me—
to believe me—to help me. Then I listen
with a quick, throbbing heart. Every
steu In the corridor wakens hope that
springs np only to die away. They do
not heed me—no one comes!
Ob.ooly a man to bring me something
to eat I Ido not see what—l am 'AIM
and siok with a great throubing
from head to foot, as if I were all one
pul*e of pain. 1 spring forward.
"Oh, for tbs love of God," I cry,
"got me oat of thist To-day is my
wedding day. This is a cruel mistake!
I Will give you a hundred rubles if you
let ms out. I will leave you my watch
is pledge. You have only to open the
hall door. Think of it—the poor girl
that I was to have married is—"
Ho did not even wait to hear me. He
looked alarmed ana nurrnea out, leav
ing me to rave alone.
In vain. I knew the time was past—
the hour was gone. I could picture the
surmises and whisperings of the guests,
the rage—the livid rage of the father,
the mute anguish of my poor little girl.
They were disrobing her, perhaps,
this very moment, laying aside the
pretty dress and filmy veil, to be worn
again—ah, whenP Did she faint,or cry,
or lay there dumb with anguish, I won
dered P Would her heart say a kind
word for me when others were traduc
ing me? Oh, pure and trusting heart,
I have never valued you aright, and
now I am punished for it!
After that 1 grew calmer. There was
no more hope, and so the quiet of des
pair came to mc. and I sat dumbly
watching the fading of the bar of sun
shine till it looked like a faint golden
mist, and then went out in darkness.
Another night had come, and I slept
from sheer exhaustion.
I was awakened the next morning by
a familiar voice.
" Hello, old Btraigbtjackct. here you
are! No end of a row yesterday.
Couldn't find a clew to you or the dia
monds, or the lady so ' fair, fsir, with
golden hair.' Ah, my boy, you are too
susceptible! But I found the card with
her name this morning. You dropped
it on the floor, and it got shoved out of
sight. I followed it up, and it's all
right. The prison-doors unbar. Ri-tu
ri-ru, the captive breaks his chains."
The keeper was regarding Alexis with
a suspicous air, as if, .instead of
freeing any one, he fancied he should
have another patient. That young gen
tleman always took liberties with me
on account of his relationship to Shove
loff, but 1 never enjoyed them till this
morning. I seized his hand as if it had
been my dearest friend. I lltanked him
with effusion.
The doctor did not appear. He re
turned my valuables, but kept himself
out of the way. Confusion at his mis
take bad perhaps overcome him.
I reached the store to meet the united
wrath of the partners. When I in
formed them that the diamonds were
gone, I was at once dismissed from their
employ. My offense was in permitting
the case of jewels to go out of my hands.
I had been betrayed into this by the
fllamour of a pair of bright eyes. |I went
tome disconsolately enough to find a
note in mv room from old Sehroeder.
"Slß —Your infamous conduct de
serves a punishment that my liandg are
itching to give you, but I cannot leave
my poor heartbroken child. I have
been to yonr place of business, and heard
the story of your elopment with a vi!e
adventuress, and robbery of your em
ployers' diamonds immensely valuable.
I am thankful my child has escaped you.
I thank God your depraved taste made
you unfaithful to her, and I know she
will see the truth in time. I am going
to take her away at once from the place
Sou have made hateful to her. It would
e best for you never to cross my path
again. ANTON S< IIROEDKR."
So all my plans had toppled down like
a child's card house, and I sat despairing
among the ruins.
Children'* Teeth.
Heredity makes a great difference witn
tech. Some person#, with no care at all,
have perfect nod unfailing teeth: those
of others decay early, even with the best
of care. In tne same families, the chil
dren who strongly resemble one parent
may have excellent teeth, while those
that resemble the otlier parent may have
just the reverse.
Certain diseases in the parents badly
affect not only the permanent teeth of
the children, out even the temporary.
The nourishment and health of a child
during infancy also largely determine
the future character of its teeth.
The enamel of the first teeth of chil
dren is very thin, and is easily eaten
through by ncids. These acids are
formed in the month from the tood that
collects there, or are eructated from the
stomach. The young teeth are flooded
with saliva. The saliva cannot remain
healthy if the teeth are diseased, neither
can the teeth long remain sound with
sour saliva.
Care for the teeth should even precede
their appearance by keeping the stom
ach healthy. Subsequent to their ap
pearance the mouth should be carefully
cleansed after each meal; and once a
day should be washed out with a weak
solution of borax. As the child grows
older he should be trained to do this for
himself, the borax water being used just
before retiring.
No charcoal should be used on the
teeth, nor any other hard substance, nor
should soap in which the soda has not
been completely neutralized. Patent
tooth-powders should always be
avoided.
Ice water is injurious to the teeth,
and so is whatever causes in them a sud
den change of temperature; the acids
of the mouth readily penetrate the
minute, invisible cracks effected in the
enamel.
The teeth of the first s°t should not
be extracted too early, as it will en
danger the permanent teeth. If they
are decayed they should be fllied.—
Youth' Companion.
A Woman'* Inspiration.
Out of a five-minute call a woman
will gather inspiration for a good hour's
speech when she get* home. She will
tell her husband —who is so interested,
you know—that Mrs. Stuckup has
" new furniture the second time within
three years if I'm not mistaken and lace
curtains with lambrequins and her
black silk dress made over and her hair
done up in a new way higher than sbe
used to wear it not becoming a bit and
her little girl's got her hair banged and
all dressed in white and is going to Mias
Giddigurl's school in the fall and her
oook's gone off mad and she says she's
almost tired to death nnf is going to
Swampscott next week and Miss Flint
is going to have Young Spoodlington
after all and Miss Smith's going to give
her a pair of bouquet holders she eays
they're good enough for her she got
tbem cheap up to Ragshop's and Mis'
Ferguson's got a boy lots of hair on
its head and looks three montb's old
everybody says and Steve Beaker's awful
dissipated they say and that Lovwell
girl's father's ordered him out of the
bouse and she's been taking on awful
and declares she will have him and the
Stigginscs have moved out of town
and the Browns have lost .everything
and Mis' Smith's bought a whole piece
ot ootton cloth and— By this time the
bus hand is asleep or has fled. A man
could never make so much oat of a
week's visit. All lie would remember
would be that Brown's got a mighty
pretty wife, or keeps good cigars, or
some other equally inconsequential mat
tor.— Sotton Tranmnpi
PARK, WARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
The Cow Foa.
In the Northern and Middle States
the cow pea in agriculture is but little
known. It ha* no place among our
commonly grown crops, and no ade
quate estimate of it* value or utility in
Northern husbandry U, therefore, en
tertained. At the 'South it has been
grown for a long time, and there occu
pies about the same relation to the agri
cultural pursuits of the people that
clover does in the Northern States.
There, it is highly esteemed as a fodder
crop, and justly so, for it is invaluable
in Southern husbandry for forage, for
seed, or for a manurial crop. Its value
and adaptability in restoring fertility
to worn out land have mainly given ft
the prominence it has achieved, but
this does not constitute all the valu
able qualities it possesses. Not long
since our Maryland namesake referred
to the notable case of the late J. Hew
lett, of Baltimore county, who had made
several hundred acres of poor land rich,
chiefly by the use of cow peas. Thnt
gentleman frequently gave the results
of his experiments with this vegetable
in the columns of our contemporary,
which attract much notice.
One of the most important recom
mendations of this crop is its adaptabil
ity to poor or worn-out land. The
plants grow well where nearly every
thing else fails, giving either forage or
seed in fair quantities, and affording, as
we have before indicated, ready meanß
for bringing such land to a fertile con
dition. Our purpose, however, is not
to detail the methods which have been
found the most successful to accomplish
this object, but to refer to the value of
this plant as a forage crop. In the
older portions of the Northern States,
it is well to consider the relative value
of all forage plants which nre worth
cultivating, both as to their feeding
qualities and habits of growth. We are
pleased to not ■ e that a prominent farm
er in New York tried cow peas for this
purpose last season, and his experiment
leans him to the confident belief that
they will be largely grown at the North
as Boon as their value has been discov
ered. The seed was sown early in June,
in light sandy loam; the season was
favorable, and they were cut in Septem
ber. They were eaten greedily by cows,
and there was considerable gain in the
quantity of milk obtained.
Comparative analyses show that they
are richer in albuminoids than green
corn fodder, and while they are not
quite equal to red clover, they are well
worth cultivating as a change food, for
of these crops we have not enough.
They grow very rapidly, making a dense
mass of foliage in ninety days, killing
out other growths, and completely
shading the ground from the sun. We
shall be pleased to have the views of
Southern readers, who hare cultivated
this crop, upon its usefulness and value,
their methods of cultivation, not only
for fodder and for seed, but as the chief
recuperative element in the restoration
to fertility of unproductive soils.—
Prairie Farmer
Farm and Uardrn Slr.
Quicklime is destructive to worms,
slugs and the larva: of injurious in
sects.
In feeding bran to stock we obtain a
return almost equal to its cost in the
active quality of the manure.
Ten bushels of spent tan bark mixed
with two bnshels of guano make an ex
cellent compost for potatoes.
I)r. Heath says that tuberculosis or
consumption in a cow is transmissable
to the person who consumes the milk.
It is said that newly laid eggs may) be
kept fresh for two to four months by
packing in clean old oats and storing in
a temperature of thirty-six to forty de
grees.
Bran or middlings mixed with whey
and fed to nigs keeps them in excellent
health, and if mixed with a little bar
ley meal makes the sweetest and best of
Dork.
At a recent farmers' meeting a speaker
gave a recipe for making farming pay
as follows: "Have hut one business,
and get up in the morning and see to it
yourself."
Four thoroughbred mares in the stall
of Lord Falmouth, of England, have
thrown twins. This is very remarks
ble. Mares scarcely ever have twins;
cows frequently.
To keep seeds from the depred&tio n
of mice mix some pieces of camphor
with them. Camphor placed in trunks
or drawers will prevent mice from H o ing
them injury.
The larger part of the garden vegeta
bles should be planted in long rows
rather than in short, cross rows, and
the labor of hoeing will be materially
lessened. Onions, beets, radishes, etc.,
can be b st sown in this manner.
As a ruletliesiaeof the seed will indi
cate the depth to plant it, starting at
one-half inch with the smallest, such
as celery, parsnips, etc.. while peaa and
beans may be put one and a half inches
deep.
RMlpn.
RICH GRIDULR-CAKES.— Into twelve
ounces of flour rub one large spoonful
of butter, add three eggs, with as much
milk as will make the dough the con
sistence of paste. Roll it out thin.
Make into cakes, and bake them on a
griddle.
CURRANT CAKE— The whites of aix
eggs, one cap of sugar, two of flour,
half a cup of butter, half a cup of sweet
milk, one teaspoon ui cream tartar,
half a teaspoon of ioda, one cup of cur
rants. Rub the butter and sugar to a
cream, add the milk, flour and beaten
whites a little at a time till all are in.
TOMATO PRESERVES. Take three
pounds of ro*nd yellow tomatoes and
peel them.add three pounds of sugar,and
let them stand together nntil the next
day; then drain off the syrup, boil it
until the scum ceases to rise, put in the
tomatoes and boil them slowly twenty
minutes, take them out with a per
forated skimmer and lay them on a
dish; boil the syrup until it thickens,
adding at the same minute the ju'oe of
a large lemon: put the tomatoes into
jars and pour the hot syrup over them.
Cover at once.
SAQO PUDDfiro.—One cup of sago,
one quart of milk, five eggs, whites and
yolks beaten separately; two table
spoons each of melted butter and sugar;
soak the sago la enough water to cover
it two hours; drain off the water if it is
not ail absorbed; soak two hours longer
in the milk, which should Ms slightly
warmed. When the sago is quite soft,
beat the sugar and butter together, ada
the yolks, milk and sago, and lastly, the
whites. Bake In a buttered dish, and
eat warm with sweet sauce.
TMsalas it.
In good bearing season there are but
few wees that do not bear too many
specimens for their fall devebpment in
size and flavor. Some of the fruit will
be smooth, fair and uninjured, while
some will be distorted, scabby and al
most vnlaeless. By removing these
knotty specimens, which can never be
good for much, the smooth and perfect
ones will have a chance to develop
themselves, and while the increased size
will prevent the number of bushels from
being diminished, the improved ap
pearance, as well as the quality, will
fully compensate for all the labor be
stowed in thinning.
In picking off" apples, remove first
those that show by tbe borings at the
blossom end that the coddling worm
lias taken up its abode inside, and then
if there are too many still remaining,
remove the small ones. Every fruit
seller knows that it is the good-sized,
fair fruit that is eagerly caught up in
market, while it is the small, indiffer
ent, knurly specimens that go begging
for a customer. As a rule, we think
trees should rarely be allowed to bear so
heavily as to need supports to the
branches to prevent breaking down.
Any tree tliat is liable to have its
branches split down from its load of
fruit is carrying more fruit than is well
for the tree or good for the fruit.—
J/ewision Journal.
Canoeing In the United States.
When John Macgregor, of the Inner
Temple, published his entertaining ac
count of the Itob Roy's thousand-mi.<■
voyage on the lakes and rivers oj
Europe, ho established canoeing as a
summer pastime. The idea was not
new; it was older than authentic his
tory: but he gave it an overhauling and
brushing up that brought it out in a
form that wits wonderfully attractive.
The Rob Roy was so diminutive that
her captain was able to transport her
on horseback, but what she accom
plished made her quite as famous as any
ship of her majesty's navy. The Etag
iish canoe fleet was soon numbered by
hundreds. The crank Rob Roy was
superseded, as a sailing canoe, by the
Nautilus, and many voyages, under an
endless variety of conditions, have since
been accomplished. Canoe clubs were
organized, and in an incredibly brief
time canoeing became in Great Britain
a national pastime.
The introduction of canoeing in the
United States may be said to have taken
place in 1870, when the New York
canoe club was founded by William L.
A.den. The Indian birch aad dug-out,
it is true, belong to tbe canoe group, but
they are, at best, rude craft, unlit fur
i general cruising, and had lone before
| gone into disuse, and come to be valued
; only as relics of an uncivilized condi
tion. Americans have enthusiastically
j adopted the pastime, and it is only a
| auestion of time when canoes will be as
j frequently seen on our bays, lak- .
, rivers as sail and row-boats. Besides
1 our long coast-line, we have an immense
| system of inland waters, a great part ol
which is as yet unexplored, and cannot
for years be explored by any other rTafl
' than the light and easily r>ortag<-d
canoe. There is no one of the States in
which long cruises may not be made.
It has been stated upon authority
that summer cruises may be made upon
the waters of Wisconsin alone for
i thirty years without retracting or n
haunting the territory. In the northern
portion of the State there are almost
numberless unexplored lakes, some of
large size, that are connected by rivers
and smaller streams. A canoe may, for
instance, be launched upon Pewaukee
lake, a beautiful sheet ot water about
twenty miles west of Milwaukee, and
then follow a winding course through
a delightful country, through lake to
rivulet, and from rivulet to lake, the
lakes varying In length from three* to
eight miles, and in width from one to
four miles. I/earing the lakes, the
canoe may follow Rock river, and pass
ing many beautiful towns and villages,
strike the Mississippi at Rock Island,
Illinois. Manyot the Western (notably
Minnesota and Michigan). Eastern and
Middle States offer equally attractive
fields for summer cruising Canads is
as yet almost unmapped. Twenty-five
miles to the northward of Quebec tbe
exploring canoeist Is beyond the bounds
of civilization, and at the entrance to s
region of picturesque lakes, that, with
their connecting streams, form a chain
almost unbroken, save by rapids and
falls, to either the Hudson bay country
or tbe Snguenay, and the little-known
territory still to the northward.
Long cruises have been made by
Americans. The Kleine Frits (A. 11.
Siegfried) Las followed the course of the
Mississippi from the extreme head
waters to Rock Island, Illinois; the
Maria Theresa (N. H. Bishop) has
cruised by inland waters from Lansing
burg, New York, to the mouth of the
Suwannee river: the Bubble (Charles
E. Chase) in 1178 cruised from New
York to Quebec by connecting water
ways. thence by portage through tbe
Chaudicre to the headwaters of r.nd
down the Connecticut river, to and
through I/ong Island Sound, to New
York. Mr. C. H. Farnham has recently
completed a Canadian vovage embracing
the Sagusnay. its tributaries, and other
watercourses. In 1870 Mr. Frank Zihler
made a cruise of about 1,900 miles, from
Racine, Wisconsin, to New Orlesns.
Many leas extended cruises have been
made, and clubs have been organised in
the larger cities.— Harper's Magazine.
A Peculiar Fitness far His Work.
Man] Australian shepherds are con
victs. A sheep fanner had ten, and be
used to descri je their peculiarities in an
amusing manner. One was a clergy
man. He was idle, sat down and let
the sheep wander. Another was an
English shepherd. He could not adapt
himself to the vagrant ways of colonial
sheep. Another was a murderer. He
drove tbe sheep too hard. The best of
the whole ten was a London pickpocket.
In the exercise of bis profession he had
been obeer vant, cautious and dexterous,
taking constant note of persons, peculiar
itics and dress. He had had to estimate
the value ol his victims, and to obtain
bis object with the least disturbance to
their sensibilities. He watched tbe
sheep carefully, knew what each had in
its pocket, ana did his best to secure the
prise for his employer. Buch is the
power of personal attention and discrim
nation. ___________
Henry Young, of Somerset, Ky.. en
tertained the belie! that waterme ons
could not be legal property. Acting on
that theory, he did not confine his oper
ations to tbe fields but opened a loaded
freight oar and began to help himself.
The train hands, when they went to
stop the depredation, were met by a
brandish, d knile and the assurance Uial
Utey would be stabbed if they interfered.