Butting It OR. !n winter time I first began To court you, Annie, dear. \ud breathed, an lovers only can, Soft nothings in that oar. 1 dreamed nitont yon halt the night; 1 wooed you linlt the day, In sunny hopes, in visions bright, The winter jstsa'd away. Twaa tn the springtime, Annie, dear, Yon swore to bo mv bride; The latter days of March were hero The honr was eventide. You Itegged a very brief dolay— A month, or little more; Bnt, ere yon named the happy day, The spring, alas, wns o'er! In summer time I bravely dared, Dear Annie, to suggest That, if we thought of getting paired, That season was the best. What bliss to hail the merry morn That made yon all my own! But while I lingered, still forlorn, I found the summer flown. September brings the autumn here; The leaves begin to tall, Full soon upon tbe landscape drear Will winter spread its pall. In gloom I sit, with solemn phis, A moody single man— Whose only consolation is That you're a spinster, Anne! A SEARCH FOR A SITUATION. Martie Woodbridge—her name was Martha, hut no one called her so— lived on the outskirts of a small village. Her father was a farmer, but not a prosperous one. Nature, with its frosts and droughts, was always getting the upper hand of him, and the crops which he raised were sure to he those which brought the lowest price in the market. The cankorworm stripped his apple trees, and a late frost blighted the corn and oats. He had the misfortune to buy a cow which introduced the cattle disease into his farmyard, and Creamer, Spotty and Whiteface —the three cows that always filled their pails the fullest and made the most golden butter—sick ened and died. This was the question which Martie puzzled over from day to day, coming at last to the conclusion that she must try her luck in the hi? world which she had seen so little of oioside ol her own small village. She would go to I/ondon, and, if possible, find there a situation as gov erness, in which she could at least pro vide for her own support. Her mother let fall a tew quiet tears over the plan, and smiling patiently through them said: " Ask your father.' Mr. Woodbridge said ' No," at first; but having laid awake all night over his difficulties, he called Martie to him, kissed tier solemnly, gave a weary sigh, and with it his consent. So it came to pass that on a cool, crisp October morning, when the woods were at their brightest autumn flush, and the frost had stiffened the grass into little silvery blades and spears and made the few pale flowers that lingered by the roadside hang tin • heads, Martie put on her bravest smi. .matte hopeful, com forting little speeches, kissed them all good-bye at home —the dear old home, so full of joys and troubles—.'.nd started for London, to put into that great, hur rying, driving, jostling market the modest wares she had to offer. Martie was eager and full of hope; hut, alas! how much eagerness and hope fulness go down to death every day in the frantic rush and scramble for the good thlrgn going. Martie, in the great city, looking for work to do, seemed like a quiet little wren trying to pick up a worm or crumb where haw ks and vultures were snatching and clawing for plunder. Martie was met the moment she stepped from the train by an old friend of the family, who had kindly promised to receive her at her house, and do what she could to assist her. The next day, early in the morning, a modest unpre tending little advertisement was sent to one of the daily newspapers. What a stupendous affair it seemed to Martie, and how her unsophisticated little heart beat at the thought of it! Nothing could come of it that day, however; and while she goes out witli Mrs. Allen to do a little shopping and stare at a few of the city lions, let as take a look at the quarters she has fallen into. Mrs. Allen kept a small private lodg ing house, very select and very genteel. Its inmates wero the learned Professor Bigwig and family, from wiiose presence a certain literary aroma was supposed to pervade the atmosphere; the brilliant Colonel Boreas, hero - according to his own account—of numberless battles; a rising voung lawyer, with his pretty, oiusomg giri wife, all fresh and lc-°]y in her new bridal toilet; a rich widow and her stiil richer daughter, who. it was said, wns soon to become the help mate of the clerical member of the household, the Rev. Paul A polios; and last althcuh not least, the representative of the tine arts, Mr. Raymond, an artist, who?" pictures had won golden praises from critic." and connoisseurs, and golden prices from pur-lingers. Mr. Raymond WBP Martie's left-hand neighbor at the table. 'Villi the first glance at bis dark fine, iron-gray hair and mustache, and deep-set gray eyes, she felt rather inclined to be afraid of him. Winn be smiled she liked him better, and thought tbe gray eye* looked kind, and she felt very shy and lonesome among those strange faces, and was glad to have him talk a little to her. and take care that she was provided with all she wanted. On the second morning after she arrived in the city Martie's advertise ment appeared. Mrs. Allen sent a paper to her room before she was out of bed, so that almost as soon as her eyes were open she had begun to hope, and to be afraid, and to wonder, if out of so tunny people who she supposed would come to see licr, any of them would think well enough ol her to want her services. Martie was very painstaking with her toilet that morning. Sho wanted to ook her best. She spent twice the asual time over her wavy, gold brown hair; and when she put on her pretty gray dress—the gray dress was for morn ing. and the black silk for afternoon — and fastened the dainty spotless collar and cull's, she dallied fully live minutes over her little stock of ribbons, trying this one and that, and went down at last to breakfast, looking, to Mr. Ray mond's artist eyes, which took her in at a glanco, like a wild rose just out of a thicket, with the dewy morning bright ness brimming in her bright eyes, the pink of rose petals in her cheeks and soft, warm, shimmering sunlteams woven into the ripple of her brown hair. How bis artist lingers longed for canvas and colors, to give to his beloved St. Agnes that beautiful hair! But the wild rose might as well have been blooming in her native thicket. In vain Martie peeped irom the front win dows, and held her breath when the door-bell rang. No one came to see the gray dress that morning. The black dress fared better. It was called upon; and Martie went down to the parlor, with her heart in her mouth, to meet the giand lady whose carriage and dashing horses she had watched as they drew up in splendid style before the house. But, atas! Martie was not experienced, and Martie was too young, and though madam did not say so, Martie was too pretty, for there was a grown-up son in the family, and to set youth and beauty before him in the shape of a young govtrnness would be tempting Providence. Madam was verry sorry, hoped this and that, and swept gracefully out to her carriage, while Martie mounted with rather slow step to her little fourth-story room, to watch and wait, and wonder if every body would find her too young. She was not to blame for it, anyhow, she said to herself, trying to coax a 'augii. No one else came that day, but the next morning there was an early call for " the lndy who advertised." Martie was eiad she had on the gray dress; perhaps she looked oider in it. But gray or black was all the same; she was again weighed in the balance and found wanting—not in years this time, but in German; an 1 as one weary bour after another went by, and no other appli cants appeared, Martie grew heavy hearted. Her advertisement was to appear for three days. Two had already passed, resulting in disappointment. Mrs. Allen tried to encourage her, hut when night came, and lite six o'clock dinner, Martie feit sad and homesick.* " 1 hope no one has made arrange ments to carry you off just yet," Mr. Raymond said, as he took a scat beside her at their end of the long table. " No," said Martie, " no one wants me. I'm too young, and I don't know Gorman." And a ground tear roiled over into her teacu . "There's no onus for discouragement in that, I assure ou," said Mr. Ray mond. "I know people who would not find fault with you on either score." Then he went on talking to her in such a pleasant way that she soon be came interested, forgot all her troubles, and the tear in her teacup, and was as merry as though she had been oider and had known German. Mr. Raymond stayed downstairs until ten o'clock, read aloud an old-time fire side story, and kept the ball of conver sati >n rolling in such pleasant channels that the evening was gone before Mar Lie knew it, and spite of all her disapppoint ments it had somehow been the pleas ant est one she had spent there. The next morning a lady came to see Martie in behalf of her raother-ln-law, and Martie engaged to go the following day to see the place and people. There was no poetry about Mrs. Myrick. She was pure, unadulterated; wanted her girls to have a good, strong eddication—no jimcracks, no furrin language to jabber in. She was willing to pay good wages—would give a gov erness SIOO a year and her board; bu she mustn't expect murh waiting on. They didn't keep any servants—didn't need any, a pity 'twould be if two hearty girls like hers couldn't do their ow work. Poor Martie! She would not sav no at once, because this was, so far, her only chance; ishe promised to giVean answer soon, and she went back to her room praying heaveu to send her some thing better. She thought her prayer was answered when a gentleman called that evening, talked witli her about bis three little girls, and seemed well satisfied with the modest account she gave of herself. He was very particular about music, however, and would be glad to bear Miss Wood bridge play. Their inter view find taken place in the kindly shel ter of the quiet little reception room; but the piano was in the big parlor, and in there the professor and the Kcv. Paul Apollo* were discussing earth and heaven- The colonel was stalking about, showing off ids martial figure, and the young bride, by the side of her new lord, was holding court in the midst ola lively circle of callers. Shy, bashful Martie! How could she play before all these peopleP l'oor timid little wren, that had just crept from under the mother wing and flown out of her nest! Could she show what sweet music she knew how to make with a crowd of listenersP There was none of the airs and s;raco of the music-pounding young woman about Martie, as she dropped down upon the piano stool and took a moment's grace before entering upon the dreadful ordeal. 'Twos no use waiting, but ah, f*. • raitla man would but sit down! Why will he stand beside her and watch her poor, frightened fingers as they trip and stumble, give a wild jump for a distant note and miss it, make a dive for one octave anil light on .mother, and at last lose their way altogether and go on chasing each other up and down the key note. Martie knows the piece she is trying to play as well as she knows her name, but it flies out of her head and slips away from her fingers, and she ends at last with a finale of her own improvising, feeling her hair stand straight upon her head'as she does it. The gentleman was " much ooiiged," I lift almost immediately, and Martie, in a state of grief and mortification, was rushing through the hall, exclaiming, with a sob, as she covered her face with her hands, "What shall 1 doP" when she was suddenly stopped at the foot of the stairs by Mr. Raymond. " My dear child," said fie, " don't take it so much to heart. I've heard you play that piece before, and thought how well you did it; hut, of course, you couldn't play with all those people staring and listening. The man was a brute to ask you to do it " "Oh, no; it is I who am such a sim pleton," said Martie; " hut you are very good to me;" and she hurried up lairs, longing to get where nobody could see her, hut feenng comforted a little, eve then, by the tender sympathy which had done its best to console her. Once in her own room the floodgates were opened, and Martie cried over what she called her disgraceful failure until she find succeeded in getting up a raging headache. Then she went to bed with the determination of writing in the morning to Mrs. Myrick, informing t tin' lady that she was ready to accept her offer and enter upon the "eddication" of her daughters. Hut before she had time to carry her lesolution into effect Mrs. Myrick herself appeared, having mode up her mind that Martie would not do for them. She hadn't been brought up in their ways, and was like to bc.too purtickler. Thus "vanished all hopes of success from advertising. Mrs. Allen next ad vised that Martie should try one of the educational agencies in the city, and an application was accordingly made. Then followed more days of auxious waiting and of hopes deferred, resulting at lost in a visit and a generous offer from a iady who won Martie's heart at the outset with hi r pleasant face and winning ways, and her gi ntle, motherly talk about the little boys and the two little girls at home for whom she wanted * teacher and companion. Rut, alas! that home lay hun !re rgngi ment with that old lady; she has already made one 1 with me." riltM, HARDEN AMD HOUSEHOLD. iThr Noll for Fro It Tree. . There iH a necessity for having the land for fruit trees well drained. A cool soil, especially for pears, is very suitable, but no water must be allowed to stagnate around the roots. Mrs. Quin says that on [stiff, tenacious clay soils, with clay subsoils, underdraining and deep plowing will be found essen tial to rid the soil of stagnant water, in order to get the conditions which wil' promote a healthy and vigorous root growth. Hut on good farming land, such as will produce, with ordinary treatment, 150 to 200 bushels of potatoes to the acre, or sixty! or seventy bushels of shelled corn, it would be a useless waste of money to spend the amount necessary to underdrain the soil before planting pears. A dry, hilly place will be better than a 'ow one, with no good drainage. C'are In narnishni Sheep. American wool growers or shepherds have yet much to learn in regard to the management of their flocks. For ex ample, the sheep in Silesia arc never exposed to much rain. Sh clter and shade are provided for them. Nor are they exposed to dust, for that is known to be injurious to the fleece. The great est possible care is taken in the breeding. Men of experience are employed to go from farm to farm to examine the sheep anil select the best rams that can be _ound. The rams are closely examined as to their fleece-bearing properties, and all hut the very best arc sold off. The whole economy of the sheep farm is as perfect as intelligence and industry can make it. Mild rnfiil Poultry ({nlslim In raising poultry or stock, it should be the aim of every one to keep it healthy and improve it. You can do it very easily by adopting some systematic rules. These may be summed up in brief its follows: 1. Construct your house good and warm, so as to avoid damp floors, and afford a flood of sunlight. Sunshine is better than medicine. 2. Provide a dusting and scratching place, where you can bury wheat and com, and thus induce the fowls to age needful exercise. 3. Provide (yourself with sonic good, healthy chickens, none to IK? over three or four years old, giving one cock to everv twelve liens. 4. Give plenty of fresh air at ah times of the year, especially in summer. 5. Give plenty of fresh water daily, and never allow 'hefowls to go thirsty. 6. Feed them -.stematicaliy two or three times a da , and scatter the food so they can't eat too .fast or without proper exercise. Do not feed more than they will eat up clean, or they will get tired of that kind of feed. 7. Give them a variety both of dry and cooked food; a mixture of cooked meal and vegetables is an excellent tiling for their morning meal. 8. Give soft feed in the morning, and the wt.ole grain at night, except a little wheat or cracked corn placed in the scratching place during the day. b Above ail things keep the hen house c>!.n and well ventilated. 10. Do not crowd too many in one house. If you do, look out for disease. 11. Use carbolic powder in dusting bins occasionally to di-stroy licc. 12. Wash your roosts and bottom of laying nests witli whitewash once a week in summer and once a month in winter. 13. Ix-t the old and young have as large a range as possible—the larger the better. 14 Don't breed too many kinds of fowls at the same time, unless you are going into the business. Three or four will keep your hands full. 15. Introduce new blood into your stock every year or so, by cither buying a cockerel or sittings of eggs from some reliable breeder. 16. In buying birds or eggs, go to some reliable breeder who lias his repu tation at stake. You may have to pay a little more for birds, but you can de ptnd on what you get. Culls arc not cheap at any price. 17. Save the best birds for next year's breeding, and send the others to market. In shipping fancy poultry to market send it dressed. 18. And, above all things, read the poultry department of some good, re liable paper. You will gather more from it than you can from any poultry book. Hy paying attention to the above, you cannot fail to succeed and make poultry keeping as profitable as thousands have done nil over the United States.— Rural Nebraska Household Hints. In washing si,k handkerchiefs wash in water in which the best white castile soap lias been latliered . Then snap be tween your fingers until nearly dry, fold and press under a weight. Never iron. Zincs may bo scoured with great economy of time nnd strength by using either glycerine or creosote mixed with a little diluted sulphuric acid. To restore morocco, varnish with the white of an egg anil apply with a sponge. If when bread is taken from the oven the loavcsfare '.turned topside down in the hot tins, and are allowed to stand a few minutes the crust will he tender nnd will cut easily. • The best way to fry bsh is to first fry some slices of salt pork, then roll the pieces of fish in fine Indi m meal and ry in the pork gravy. About three slices of pork for a medium-sized fish Wbiteflsh needs less fat than almost any other. Blight at Fruit Trees. Profesror T. J. Hurril), of the Illinois Industrial university, read a paper on " Anthrax of Forest Trees" before the Association for the Advancement of Science, in which he gave the results of some experiments which he had made with pear blight and fire blight of apple trees. He considers them identical in origin, and the result a living organ ism—a small fungus of the genus bacil lus, growing in the living bark. Ho minute is this fungus that a very high magnifying power of the microscope is necessary to see it. The method of ex periment was to cut off sma'l portions of bark of diseased trees, and ineert them beneath the bark of healthy ones, as in the process of building, Sixty three per cent, ot all the pear trees inoc ulated became diseased. Of pear trees receiving virus from blighting apple trees, seventy-three per cent, became affected. When the process was re versed,a rnueh smaller per cent, of trees were inoculated. The most conspicuous change Professorßurrill findsin the tissue of the affected parts is the aimost total disappearance of starch from the cells. This would lead one to think that the disease is a fermentation caused by a minute fungus, closely related to those which induce fermentation under ordi nary circumstances. flow to Cr; Turkey. There is much practical wisdom among the poultry men that docs not get into the papers or books. A turkey raiser who prides himself on sending to market the handsomest lot of turkeys in his town, for the Christmas market, telis us how he dresses his birds- The turkeys are fed as usual the nieht In fort butcherinv, and in the morning are driven in upon the ba*n floor as saon as they come from the roost and are made secure. Their crops are empty, and they can bo caught as they are wanted. Make a slip noose of strong cord for each turkey, in an adjoining stable or shed, put the turkey's legs into the noose, and with a small pointed knife stick the bird as near the head as possible. As soon as the bird is dead, strip off the feathers, pinfeathers and all. Cut the neeg off as near the head as pos.-ible, remove the wings and draw the entrails, before taking the bird down. The turkey is hungup alive, and taken down ready for market. Lay the bird on his breast or side upon a clean board to cool. Turkeys should be carefully handled in dressing to avoid breaking the skin, for it rubs ofl' very easily when they are warm. Remove all the pinfeathers and pack the birds when sent to market in clean straw, so that lucre will be no marks of blood upon them. Handsome, clean dressing will add a cent a pound, and often more, to the market price of all kinds of poultry. American Agriculturist. A <.rt Orrliaril. The Farmer's Review publishes a de tailed account of the orchard of A. R. V'hitney, of Illinois, who has 155 acres in apple trees. He set the first 4Oo trees in 1H43, and now lias 18,000 in bearing. He began with 144 sorts, though only Ihirty are left, his object being to test them. For summer ami autumn, he chooses red astrachan, maiden's blush. Snow and Bailey's sweet, and for winter and spring, domine, jonathan, willow twig. Ben Davis and winesap. His argest crop, in IH7R, was '26,000 bushels, one-half of which was shipped to mar ket, and the other half made into cider. He does not count on a full or heavy cropoftener than once in four years. For the codling moth lie turns sheep into the orchard, by which these insects are nearly cleared out. The long-wool sheep are best, as cotswolds, leicesters and south-downs; merinos eat the bark. The soil of the orchard is rich enough without manure. Mr. W., advises for an orchard that it slope to the north, cultivation with corn fir a few years, then reeding to clover, to be plowed under every three or four years. Krrlpr* I)ot:iiNi'Tß.—' Twn eggs, one and a half cups of sugar, nutmeg; stir this in a quart bowl with buttermilk; two tea spoonfuls of saleratus dissolved in boil ing water, and two cups of flour sifted in; bake in sheets. COIIN ITFFS. —Scald five tahlcspoon fuls of Indian meal, and when hot add a lump of butter the size of an egg; when cold, add two eggs beaten sepa rately, two cups of sweet milk and eight tablespoonfuls of wheat flour. CHICKEN MAYONNAISE.— Cut up some chickens and fry them nicely in butter. I*ct them get cold, then trim into good shape and put them in a covered dish with salt, pepper, oil and vinegar as for salad ; add a few pieces of onion and a little parsley. Let them stand thus two or three hours. Then drain tho pieces of chicken, place them on the lettuce in your salad dish and spread a nice mayon naise dressing over all. STUFFED TOMATOES. Take large smooth tomatoes, take out a little of the inside at the top and stuff witli a force meat made thus: Fry minced onions in butter and add some bread crumbs, 'some cold chicken chopped vry fine, some chopped parsley and a litl.c stock to moisten, and pepper and salt, mix well; take from the range, add raw yolk of egg. stuff the tomatoes, and hake them in tho' k ovrn. Broil your chops nicely, butter them hot and ar range them around a platter with the stuffed tomatoes in the center. Fnmlnlo the Vermin. How I got rid of red mites in my poultry-bouse: I obtained a little fur naoe that is used in summer on a cook stove u> save fuel, built a coal fire in the furnace, then carried it to my fowl bouse, put some bricks on the floor and closed the house tightly, and placed two pounds of brimstone in the furnace and left in abort order, closing the door after mo. Boon the smoke rmmc from every crack in the bouse, and in one bour I bad no red chicken mites, but a good clean bouse in which to keep my low,a. —Poultry Yard. Ilow They Capture Hyenas. The following mode of tying hyen. - in their dens, as practiced in Afghan istan, is given by Arthur Connolly in his " Cverland Journal," in the word-, of an Afghan chief, the Shirkarcc Syr.'! Daoud. "When you have tracked the beast to bis den, you take a rope with two slip knots upon it, in your right hand, and with your left holdings felt cloak before you, you go boldly but quietly In. Ihe animal does not know the nature of the danger and therefore retires to the back of lijs den, but you may always tr-i. where is head is by the glare of his eyes. You keep on moving gradually toward him on your knees, and when you are within distance throw the cloak over his head, close with him and Lake f are he does not free himself. The beast is so frightened that lie cowers back, and though he may bite the felt, he cannot turn his nock round to hurt you; so you quietly feel for his forelegs, s.ip tie knots over thern, and then, with one strong pull, draw them tight up to 11.< back of his neck and tie them there. The is now your own, and you can do what you iike with him. We generally take those we catch home to the kraal, and hunt them fin the pluir. with bridles in their mouths, that our dogs may be taught not to fear the bru es when they meet them wild. ' Hyenas are abo taken alive by thf Arabs by a very similar method, exc p' that a wooden gag is used instead of a felt cloak. The similarity in the r.: of capture in two such distant countries as are Algeria and Afghanistan, by two races so different, is remarkab,-. From the fact that the Afghans cor.rich that the Teat requires great presence • : mind, and no instance being given of a mm having died of a bite recfived in a clumsy attempt, we may infer that t!.> Afghan hyena is more powerful or mor ferocious than his African congener. Alligators' Nests. These nests resemble haycocks. Tic;, are four feet high, and five in diameter at their haws, being constructed witlj grass and herbage. First, they deposit one layer of eggs on a floor of mortar and having covered this with a stratum of mud herbage eight inches thick, lay another set of eggs upon that, and so on to the top, there being commonly from 160 to 'J(H) cges in a nest. With their tails they then beat down round the dense grass and reeds, five feet high, to prevent the approach of unsr*en enemies. Tie femaie watches her eggs until they are hatched by the heat of the sun, and then takes her brood under her own care, defending them and providing for their subsistence. Doctor Lu'.zeniber, of New Orleans, tolJ the writer that he once packed up one of these nests with the eggs in a box for the museum of St. Petersburg, but he was recommended before he closed it to see that there wa no danger of the eggs being hatched on the voyage. On opening one a youru alligator walked out, and he was oon followed by the rest, about 100, which he led in his house, where they went up and downstairs, whining and barkinr like young puppies. An Interesting Marriage. A pair of sightless lovers have been married in Cincinnati. The hride has been blind since childhood, but having received an education at the institution for the blind at Columbus, has been more of a comfort than a burden to her friends, for she had learned to play on :: cabinet organ and to sing sweetly, and to be, moreover, of great assistance in the household Last Juno she attended a convention of the blind, and herswrt voice caught the ear of a former pupil of the same institution where she had formerly been to school. This was a blind man with a soft heart, and he re solved to go to Cincinnati and ask her to marry him. While he was waiting for her answer, the house where she was living caught fire, and her mother was burned to death. This sad event occurred a few days ago. and now the twe blind lovers La\e gone on their honeymoon.—AYie York Trilmne A Dog's Ear. A shepherd once had a dog whom he used to take very much into his con tidenee. for the intelligent animal seemed to understand everything that was said to him, and somethings, as you will sec, that were not intended for his cars. His master wns once going to a place some miles away from his home, and said to his mother the night before he started, " I won't lake Hector with me." When his master started on his jour ney, Ileetor was nowhere to be found. The river that had to be crossed was so swollen by rain that the shepherd was obliged to go a long way round; but when he reached the other side, there aat Hector among the rushes. He had caught the name of the place to which hia master was going, and started off to swim over, undeterred by the expanse of water that had to be crossed. Said the angry judge to the lawyer: " The prisoner would steal horses, and I consider you KO better!" And the law yer said he flattered himself that he did know better, and wished he could re turn the compliment, withfjuslice. And this was one of the most enjoyable in cidents of the trial—for the audience.