A ——— ———— A EXPERIENCE, In the sunny years of youth, When we battled for the truth, Daring danger, toil, and wrath, Hope was flashing o'er our path, ‘When our eager youth at last Into manhood’s prime had passed, 8sill we dreamed that we were strong To lease the world from sin and wrong. Now the evening shadows play On our strength's declining day; Hope is dead, and well know we, What has been must ever be, The Academy. “GIN A BODY MEET A BODY." BY A. H. STERNE. You see, it all happened this way: Nick Weybridge had been waiting at the Grand Central Depot for the arrival of his old chum, Reggie Bell. The express arrived up to time, but with no Reggie | therein. At which collapse of plans Nick, mightily wroth, strode for the street, with hands shoved deep in his trcusers’ pockets and his chin stuck out a surly bull-dog, muttering words, about ‘‘that ass, Bell.” “What's that about Belle!” fluted torth a sudden sweet voice. Sulky Nick looked up and beheld two big velvety brown cyes smiling into his—eyes be- longing to a face that Greuze would have loved to paint, with its dainty oval, its peach-bloom cheeks, and its bair whose silken net seemed to possess a magical attraction for gadding beams. The of the ey voice was, to use the Janguage of art study in black white; plainly, a young woman coquettishly ar- rayed in a widow's semi-mourning. “What's that about Belle? blame me, sir! Why, it's all your own fault, you horrid impatient boy! Here you are, calmly strolling off into the street instead of I could find you, and you look as sulky as a bear with a sore head, too!” Nick's only answer blank stare. “Why, what's the matter?” she v on. *‘‘You don't seem know own cousin.” Then, with a charming pout, ‘I'm surely not grown so very old and hideous, Mort, that you can’t recog- mize me” Here was evidently a ceived by chance resemblance feature, and misled by the chance re- mark about Bell which she heard and which she took as an allusion to herself, this charming stranger had mis- taken Nick for some Western cousin she had come to meet. Now, if the tempted wne—{or the girl was really uncommonly pretty—had been a straight-walking, sober-minded young man with a modicum of cotscience he would have flouted the temptation and set the lady right witha lite bow and explanation; she would on apologized—as if there were any weed for apology —bowed, blushed, and fled; and Nick would have seen her face po more, which would have been a great pity. So he, who in no wise resembled the aforesaid straight-laced, minded young man, having no conscience to speak of, and being eadued with a forehead of bronze and the tongue of the Old Serpent, after the first shock delib- erately up and spake “Well, my dear,” sa calmly as if h had known her from a child, **I waited and waited, and not seeing you, con- cluded you weren't going to turn up. But I'm awfully glad to see you.” Which was true. ‘‘As for your changing, why, I never saw you look so pretty in all my life.” And this statement also was, as Chadband has it, ‘‘terewth indeed.” “You were very impatient though, Mort—and stupid, too. So there! But I'll forgive you, dear. Where's your lug- gage” “Oh, that'll be sent on after.” “Well, come along then; the carriage is waiting.” “Whew |” sun owner es and : 8 and to speak waiting where to your big bluader. De- 5 some in sober- whistled Nick, under his breath. *‘The carriage is waiting, eh? This is a high-flyer and no mistake. Wonder who the deuce she is—for that matter who am I, tool! She's s thor. oughbred, evidently; s'pose the ‘dear defunct’ was some bloated old bachelor { dering "em,” he thought. { he got mixed on the genealogy or per- strong | | re Don’t you | had over- |! “Poor, dear Edward's sister is stop- ping with me, you know, but she's out to-day, so we shall be all to ourselves to talk over old times, Won't it be jolly?” Nick hardly seemed delighted by the thought of the prospective jowvialty; in fact, he heartily wished himself out of his scrape. But there was no retreat now: he had burned his boats. Bo up he went to his dressing-room, ostensibly to wash off the travel-staina of a journey he had never taken, really to throw himself on a couch and rack his brains for plausible myths about people and places he had never seen. | The way of the wicked man is hard. { Nick found it extremely so, und he never | enjoyed a good dinner less. The inevi- | table examivation began. “I'll try mur- 80 whenever { sonal history of any harmless person or { persons he ruthlessly slew them and . | buried them away far out of the reach the western express, by which was due | of all questions. Whole families went at a swoop; when necessary he raised an epidemic ~-typhoid, cholers, grip—he | didn’t care what, as long as he got awk- ward customers out of the way. Sam- son's biblical jawbone was an inefficient : 5 . i weapon for homicidal Purposes com pure dd squarely in front of him like the jaws of | to Nick's *‘jaw,” and poor Belle was in | an excess of grief and amazement at the | nt loss of so many friends. Final be struck on a snag in the shape of a young lady whom he had consigned to an untimely grave. Unluckily the fair slle had had a message from the dead ia a week old Then things got worse than ever for the culprit. He inextricably in the prickly branches of the family tree; hopelessly lost in the lanes and by ways of tho local Still, with courage and a sup calmness born of despair, he lied on by the car load. “How's Zozol” asked his uncorscious torturer fe iY, letter. got entangled top graphy. of a better orthy Cause, an be! So ce that! silly to give any one a Zozo name rn it's a baby. n, aloud: Zozo's all right.” | I will offer no excuse for my abomis | conduct and extraor { powerfully in roatural | | his client | Jur} men tape, ee | madam, is your own face. ‘Zozo?” dubitatively. “Wonder who | | , When you your- i" was ill, poor dear! How silly i am! t scarlet fever, but r now." ‘hat do you mean, Mort! Scarlet ! sr heard of a horse with yurse | he's much Scott!” groaned the pseudo a how-de-do! Er- Don't you know! Er- let fever, my dear, but of you co ldn't be expecte 1 to know that. Why, that bay mare father bought only last year" R ‘here's wl - Horses course | cor I We | same fault, tried by the same { tion, Belle started up from the table with a | shudder and stared at her visitor as thogigh at a maniac, “You must be mad, Mort. uncle has been dead these ten years. 1 don't underscand you at all.” And her frame shook with excitement. Poor | Heigh, ho! I must make a clean breast of it to-morrow." With which virtuous resolution he turned in. But, alack a day, Nick was a bold, bad man, and at heart quite un. regenerate; 80 next day, instead of plead. ing guilty and throwing himself upon the mercy of the court, as heshould have done, he lapsed into error and marched into my lady's bower with a cousinly swagger, which abated the moment he saw the inmate, for there was an omin- ous glitter In that little woman's eye that gave him goose-flesh. The game wus up, he saw at once. “Good day, sir,” said Nemesis in a morning gown. “‘Kindly explain this | to me.” And she handed him a tele- gram “Mrs. Brathwaite, Borry couldn't come, Mother ill, Coming next week “Mont Wmirraxen” Not that Nick read all this, He felt so ashamed of his ignominious position | that the letters swam before his eyes. All | | he could see was a cruel finger and con. | temptuous eye directed toward the door, | which enunciated “‘begone” more point- edly than any words could do. Nick's | first impulse was that of headlong flight, | Then kis forensic instinets came back to bim-~for he was a rising young lawyer | —and he resolved to make a speech for the defense. So he came to grips with | Mrs. Brathwaite without more ado. “My dear Mrs, —er-er-er-Blank” (this | in the most dryly comical way that made the widow, even in her anger, bite her | lips to prevent a smile, and won a hear- ing for Nick). ‘My dear Mrs. Blank, wmble nary tissues of lies, though I have one which ought to plead beh a}f.Y Here a motion as though to point my he made out th silent wooden than many “That excuse, Yes, mad. lam" and he grew aptly alliterative— Hyour face w fate.” 0 my i and gestured at ne wee [OS more live ones—the chairs. 1" Bs my fall Sottto v and will ever be Wet ‘Sounds like a tit to fetch seem to Then our just pickin Of poetry, As a soften sud ow fact, she what : mie in embryo went on, BOMCY > . eaking frankly, have to state that [ am not one peatant-—as far as my own ned-—for what I have done a cause, and for such a reward as a fe rds from those lips, though I may say I am naturally truthful, I would perjure mysell any and every moment of the day. Any man would have committed the tempta- ped bi Stylites himself” and he rolled off the name ina most sonorous No man could have hel ime. 1 sell. Simon | fashion—*‘would have shown his appre- ciation of your charms in the same way as [did if you had come up to that | ascetic old party and looked and talked Nick nerved his Sagging wings to still | higher, more cerulean flights of imagina- tion. “I'm awfully sorry, Belle, darling” (and the villain lingered over these words over swt morsels): “‘but didn’t you hear of my terrific accident? as as you did with me.” And so on, and so on, for half an hour, ending up with patching together Vikae's | two sentences, **Though I am not that { played, I am a gentleman.” after which [ fell down an old quarry and hurt my | head very badly. cially when I'm { erel with question Why, at tires, espe ged a bit and both- my mind becomes 2 perfect blank, and I make a horrible hadge-podge of everything, My head feels as though it would burst at this very minute.” Ths last with a groan of most ghastly dimensions. The poor girl was comp.etely hocused, came his pedigree from the first genera- tion thereof, so that he overwhelmed the poor little woman in a torrent of words, hen, too, she waa half in love with him | already, and secretly admired his con- and was amazed and indignant that she | } had not been told of the “terrific acci- deat” before. Then she cooed, “Poor old boy, poor old head!” so soothingly that it sent a thrill of rapture down Nick's worthless frame. And she stroked that head, hard as the nether v0 plump hand that the Machiavellian one 1" millatos millstone, summate cheek. Finally he left his card, begging to be allowed to call, hay. ing obtained her assurance that she would think over the matter of a free pardon. Less than a week after this came a note for him “Dean Ma Wevasmmnor: Out of my great mercy you are forgiven. 1 shall ex | pect you to five o'clock tea, Yours, ete “Bruise Baurawamre” Nick went to that five o'clock tea and | to many other five o'clock teas and other lovingly with her soft, | felt his orest rise, and patted himself on | the back, all of which only hardened him in his sin. And when she refmined | from asking any more awkard questions | he gloried in his successful villisaly, and laid himself out to kill. And as he lonked well, and talked well, it was not long before the fair widow lay-—meta. phorically speaking, of course—at her who married her for the sake of her face. | fictitious cousin's feet in an excess of By Jove! a spanking turnout, too. Shall I back out here! May turn out another | hardly conceive the great change that | tain attendant to a News reporter, had taken place in him since she had last | ease of ‘vaulting ambition,’ ete. No; I'll hold on. She can't eat me, in any case; 1 could eat her, though--she's quite sweet enough, Well, my Rubicon is this carriage-step, and here goes to cross it,” and he followed the widow in to the victoria. “Wonder who on earth I'm supposed to be, though! Mort, she called me. Mort! Hum! Stands for Mortimer, Morton and Mortuus, too, for that matter, Egad! an omen. Perhaps I'll wish I were dead when she flads out the lay of the land.” “Well, Mort, and how is everybody at home!" she began, ss they swept up Madison avenue. “Oh, they're all right,” answered the | Impostor with a vagueness perfectly touching in its infinitude, “1 should #5 like to see the old place again. 1 must try and get up there next season. How long is it, Mort, since I was inst there!” No auswer from the nonplused one, “All right, dear; I won't bother you now, as I see you want to look at the streets, you rustic old thing, you!" “Ha! ba!" mniggered Nick in his sleeve. ‘I am evidently a rustic, New York, I soe, is the Prom sed Land to me, 80 be it, my newly “bijuised con." And taking the hint the wily Niek to examine the brownstone fronts reverence and devotion, She could seen him. “You've déveloped awfully, Mort, in the last two yeam." “Mort,” with a grim smile, thought to himself that the next two houre, per. haps, would see even a more awful de. velopment of himself and things in gen- eral. He put the finishing touch to hms work just as he was leaving. He would have been content with a hand shake by | way of adieu, but poor Belle, with a | charming pout and a most provocative raising of her blossom of a mouth, de !livered herselt into the hands of the enemy by pathetically remarkiog: | “You're very mean, Mort; you haven't { kissed mo once yet.” Nick qualled; even he was touched by this absolute trust, He feit almost inclined to blurt out the whole truth and then run for his life, but that sunny, laviting smile would have melted an joeberg; at all events, it melted his scruples, and the eaitift ima bin lps Set hat i 4 ot Vito: nly way-—that is, if cousins kim ms cousins should, The idea that something was wrong flashed for an Inconcelvable moment acrosd her mind, but flached away as quickly, and after fiving him but more than needless instruc. tions na to his way home bade him to : : | functions at the same address. The re- sult of all these visits is that an argu- ment has sprung up between them. Belle has been bitten by the sacred Egyptian bug that the Rernhardt brought over, and is mad to visit the Pymmids and the | Nile cataracts, while Nick says that the | “doing” of Switzerland and Italy is the proper thing for sa newly married couple. | we Frank Leslie's Illustrated, Yirtues of Vichy. “Vichy water is becoming a very popu. lar drink,” remarked a sods.water foun. 4 it was only more palatable more of it | would be drank than of all the other waters combined. It possesses wonder. ful thirst amuagiag properties, aoad is the favorite drink of all who are aware of this fact, among those belng every phy- | sician whom I have ever seen drink at this fountain. They certainly would not use it unless the water was beneficial, Of | course the liking for fruit juice syrups | and other sweet drinks which most peo- | ple possess retards the growth of vichy in | popular favor, but it is only a question | of time until it will supplant many of the | fancy drinks, as people realize that it Is | the healthiest drink known for the hot | weather. A good way to render the | vichy pa’atable is to havea few spoonfuls of acid phosphate of some sort put ia the glass," wu New York News, — Pablic Lands in the United States. yo THE FARM AND GARDEN. COPPERAS WATER, Five pounds of copperns (sulphate of iron) to forty gallons of water is not only a valuable disinfectant, but a fer- tilizer as well, It increases fruitfulness aud earliness of the tomato, peach and other fruits, besides prolongs the season. Trees treated with copperas or iron fil- ings produce a better colored and more sightly fruit, one that henee better for shipping. As a disinfectant sbout stables, chicken-houses and closets coppers is the cheapest and most reliable disin- fectant knowo.—New Orleans Times Democrat. FATTEN THE FOWLS. Never send a fowl to market unless it is in as fat condition ns possible. The a gain in weight, but fowl, not reaches that stage, there not only price. If a pound choice condition, per pound in the pound cause the fowl for twelve wound, bei a gain of thirty-four cents for the whole, due to both increase of ght and better qual- ity, the food for pro. ducing the extra pound may not cost six ) factor the nd Fireside. reason is six will market, the extra may ne to sell no ng cents per j We while required ) oon Quality is s in market | HBRIDLING A Somebody, whom one of our LANL writer,” in Horse and Bt ble, : 1ling horses ex- hanges refers to as ‘a sen has been explaining his method « repress their $0 AS tO tendencies and bring Among other v to teach the out their go things he ¢ horse to take the bit. He tem a hor s¢ that ia be 80 educated cinims that by his sy hard to bridle will will soot bridied Any cow will i th ill forex 1 IM WS CARLY 85 KB COW r stiempted to bridle a of this state mont, EFCUR Notwitl stand has been so greatly superseded ng the use of th chines and horse power, writes an ari jest and m g ana farmer, 1 lieve sec done on the farm, the day the faster the “os ae hay will only makes work the harder. The Hability to thus. vers at this season is a source of continual anxiety when one has a large amount of grus down and half cured in hich condition a wetting means ¢ large hi its value. On days when showery conditions prevail no more should be cut at a time than can be put into cock and covered with bay caps if y cured to go into the Often the gras has become #0 cure, b this der sho fCTease in not sufficiently barn. ripe it will not do to defer cutting until of settied weather usually best to linte iy alter the cock before an toward evening a re comes a spell t Io such cases it Is start the mower imme show wher whe 0 er, and put into COMmes up, or isle rain in the night will injure it but little and attended to the next fornoon, courte this all means hard work, but then be tween showers always means bard work Water is always drunk in large quanti. ties by harvesters, and | have found that by stirring a hanatul or two of oat flakes into a pailful it not only makes it ex ceedingly palatable, but I believe there is less danger from drinking all you watt. New York World, if well spread out 814 maxing " hay STACKING SHEAVES, I have stacked much grain in my day, says Galen Wilson, and none of it be came wet in the stack. Begin by setting two bundles on end, leaning together at an angle of about twenty degrees, then continue around and around until the stack-bottom Is large enough. The centre sheaves should be closely together as possible, circle enlarges each succeeding course | should be given a little more slant, so | that when the last course is nid it will have but a slight slant. The stack bot tom is then highest in the middle. This rule is followed until the stack is finshed. As the laying proceeds from the centre the sheaves should be laid less closely in a diminishing degree, so that the stack | will settle least in the centre. After the fist course the stacker should be on his knees and press down every high the outside tiers of sheaves must be laid to project a little over the ones immediately beneath, to give the stack the proper bulge, that the water may be conveyed away from the base. The outer courses when being “laid out,” must be secured or some may slide when considerable weight presses upon them. Grasp each shea! with both hands, raise the heads-end almost dicular and *‘chuck” the butt end into the butt when “drawing in" to “to, out.” A good man is needed to pite the the one on the stack Hi] : ; i i 1 i rt then the stack will settle squarely. Stacked thus, sheaves will turn water as readily as a duck’s back. For a stack of twenty-five feet diameier the centre should be kept four feet higher than the outer edge, —New York Tribune. PACTS AND “‘waxcins” Iv srLaoe. “Has anything new been found out | about silos the past winter!” asks a reader | is more firm, | If al fowl will take on an extra pound of | flesh, it will pay to feed it well until it | is thet | in a] bring ten cents | and subdued that *‘he dressed in au | As the | sheaf, | When the foundation is about mx feet | of the American Aqricuiiuvzist. Not ex. | actly, but many previously advanced | ideas have been confirmed and the *‘faith | of the saints strengthened.” Speaking | for myself, I think that some things have been made plain, and in the future we shall agree upon a few fundamental ‘points, That the stone silo—except under limited circumstances has had its day, and has ceased to be written about in silo literature. The lathes and plastered silo is now seldom mentioned. Its great advocate, Professor Cook, of Michigan, now record for the wooden-lined silo, made durable with a is on | cont of gas tar and gasoline, The now a with a lining of two thicknesses of cheap, sound lumber, contest 1s between silo surfaced, not even matched, put on half lap, with tarred paper between to make the walls air tight, and the silo with a ; of a single bourd,—good fl and not painted, t g that the lumber dries cut daring when the silo is’ filled forces the joints and seams J single with a in lin matched, bein the summer, and | the swelling | in the matchi { silo lasts for years, Will a silo flooring be better than a lu ceiling « oring idea ue all close shut, snd the Ie. The problem is just made of one thickness nhber } cheap but dt Vill the single tinue swell on demand, and always make a lose airtigl t appears th it matching? nt well scas with gas tar, sunk in a treach, 3 lime cement, ry Is doubtful Well clay makes an admirable that rats sometimes, is 8 good ferret for st of gas tar and sand is first used under the clay floor rats will he silage. t is pow, when help can be |, generally recommended. Com sinly planted and cultivated very shal- low to induce earing, sod aliowed to stand until ‘out of the milk,” before cutting, and then filled in without wilt ing, seems the material out of which sweet silage is made. Filling with whole fodder, now that some of the conditions of that process are understood, has many friends, The smaller kinds of corn must be used, and the begins to glaze. The corn fodder should be laid all one way, tops sad buts, The tops slong the wells should be broken over, and the corners green hay should be occasionally put to keep them full and air proof. How to cover a silo is a matter upon ! which few silo men agree. The success. ful cover of last year is no better this | year than no cover. As a rule, cover as y, some of the surface silage will spoil. The silage left without a cover rarely has more spoiled silage than the | ne that has been protected with a tight | fitting cover. Two of my silos the past winter, covered alike and the same day, | gave different results. In one there was | about thirty bushels of loss, in the other | seventy-five bushels, while s neighbor who covered his silo with six inches of | green hay lost no silage but did lose the bay. Seventy-five bushels of silage would have a value of seventy-five cents, the hall ton of hay was worth £3. For the little loss of silage bow much com. | pensation do we receive for the outlay of material and labor! Whaty material has proved best for silage is answered: Corn every time, American Agriewlturist, ———— ob je tion is underuestn in : We DAY, ! PARM AXD CARDEN NOTES, Tarred paper makes a good liping for | the poultry house Wheat is a good ration to give for the morning meal when eggs are wanted. If the floor of the poultry house fs | damp sprinkling with sirslaked lime will be beneficial. Three kinds of food are essential to poultry, grain, green food and soimal | food of some kind. Ground bone makes excellent grit, as {it is hard and sharp and just the article for growing chickens. Young poultry, if they am kept grow. ing, need more feed in proportion to their size than those that are matured. Stir the soll about young trees. It | should not bake nor should weeds aad | grass grow init. Don’t work it toe i y. It 1 natural for » good cow to consume a deal of food. So high feeding within judicious limi's does not hurt the cow If the food Is of the right sort, does not improve the butter even If it is mofher's, wife's or sister's hand, Bince the introduction of the i silo filled as the com | Trivial Causes of War. Among the curiosities of history is the oft-recurring fact that many of the grest wars of the past have been indirectly { brought about by triflog circumstances, {| One of the wars | Empire in the zenith of its splendor and between the Turkish the Venetian Republic was brought about by the desire of the Sultan's physician to marry a rich Spanish heiress, The lady und ber mother escaped to Venice, and the Sultan sent an official after them to bring them back to Constantinople. The Venetian Repul lic was at first willing to comply with the Bultan’s request, Hut the ladies succeeded in making their es- cape to Ferrara, and from themce to Ly- ous, in France. The Porte complained that the Venetian Republic had not used due diligence, and ultirateiy a terrible war broke out over this trivial circum. stance. A contemporary historian ssys: **The agent of the Venctian Government at Constantinople iuformed the the reason of the Turkish Euvoy to Venice was, to require on the part of the Grand Signeur, that a Spanish lady Mendez, with her daughters, should be delivered up to the Eus tinopie. council that dispatch of the s Damed oy, and by him brought to Constan. The coma was, that the Lady Mendez had promised to marry one of her daughters to non rumor the son of a man named Rodriguez, doctor The lady, bor mind, and fled with ber daughters to Ferrara, where they remained under the protection of the Duke for som It is now said t they from Ferrara to Lyons in order to realize funds vested the re by the of th Lady Mendz. The { i enrissary of A BIgNeUus was DY Do means « Signe however, me. hat huve gone i iste husband Lhe nent ! Was Cr ran with the loss of his prey, and th tr This in in a letter written from 1549, by M. France, the o | 54 ny mibie in conse quence ’ Lion Is contained Venice in July, to Henry Il of to induce the for the purpx Mendez and noj The but her dang Kir twery —— A Clock of Bread Crumbs F. J bave been in 1} wi for most #0 years, aod 1 3 practice and experience ’ preparation that 1 could prescribe wwnch confidence of succes as | can Hall's Oa tarth Cure, manufactured by you, Have pre soribed it a great many times and its effect wonderful, and would say in conclusion that bave yet to find a case of catarrh that it would not care, if they would take it according 10 db tots, Messrs Yours truly, Le L. Gonsvon, M.D. Office, 215 Summit St, ive SMO for any case of oatarrh be cured with Hall's Catarrh on Intertally F.J Caxxey & Co. Props. EF sold by Druggista, Ti (RE number 4 terior of inte FITS stopped free by Da. Kriss Gazat Nuanve Resronen, No Ots after first ays use, Marvelous cures. Treatise and $2 trial bottle free. Dr. Kline, Wl Arch St, Phila, Pa et. oreign Japan has incre a \ NG | ONE ENJOYS Both the method and results when Byrup of Figsis taken; it is ul folbeaiving so Shue taste} and acts y yet promptly on the Kidneys, ver and ne the sys tem effectually, dispels colds, bead aches and fevers and cures habitual constipation. Byrup of Figs is the only remedy of its kind ever duced, plessing to the inst and no ceptable to the stomach, in its action ond pig "n itr many excellent qualities com mend it to all and have mede # the most popular remedy known. Th Figs is for sale in 500 and $1 bottles by all Jeadi drugs gists Any reliable drugziet who may not huve it on hand will pro eure it promptly for any one who it. Do not wishes to acoupt aay submit. CALIFORNIA F168 SYRUP CQ ——— rw Ton, Wn EY X Deli Here It Is! BOOK, which we wil Va, on receipt of only U8 rents tn Less NY A —
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers