U Xtradfora geportet Towanda, Pa., December as, 1879 ffintational ptpartment ♦BfiOCIATE /13ITOE8 E. E. QUINLAN, J. A. WILT, r 3 A. T. TALLEY Commtmleationa may be sent to any one of the slave editors, u may be preferred,and will appear in the laimiklf which he has charge. E. E. QCIY! AS , Editor. "GOD : BLERS OUR SCHOOL," ..11norr the room the Christmas greens In rich profusion himg, While sparkling in their gilded dress graeeftil vines among, • nwttoes'wmught with care, Each with its wealth of good, And-this of all that ileeked tho-‘e walls, The children's favorite stood— ' "God bless our. school." It glittered in the morning sun In characters of gold,: As beautiful at nuoutideho'ir, Like Truth that ne'er grows old ; What though' the storms were fierce Without. With low-hung clouds of gloom, - halo crowned those sacred word.s, • • It. radiance tilled the room - God bbws our school." Mee to niy side a fair young child Came with her evo.: of blue, f So full of light and innocence, I Pure thoughts were they I -knew. " Teacher," said she " I wonder so • - If it can really be, That God, x;ll4)li.es high up above, mks drawn from heaven to see, -l- 1 Till t blis:s our school." • til l , what a 'fitting time to teach A :••weet and holy truth, To leave its ituprta em.zray . el I - I,on the mind of youth' I took the little halal in mine, gazed in that childish face, And told 10 lle, whose watchful love Abides in every plaec, Could'hle , s our 'whool ; . Arid . 11(iw tint c'eil a sparriur's fall, S'(--it e'en a iravell's cry, 'Plc.:lt:li small they ,et in. conla e'er i.(seape The mitice of Ili, eye. Ti..- child-face glowed with hippy ' n.(w Itiwek," .aid she. `• If I i(i(I hives evyn the little birtk, Ile surely cares And :ill our Stligool." ti yt. unto whose tender ear' , Thee little mu,: are given, Shorn not the thduziltfid questionings, Butt turn their hearts to heaven; And when ye twine af a r your rEntillti The rich fe , toon , . of ,green There place among tho.e arave f u l The,e golden words to givent -4.1 ;,,,1 hlt,. our :churl: '—Leader THE PAST SCHOOL YEAR ' 'With the festivities and pleasures (1 the, holidays, come the review of the old and the plans for the new year. A retrospect of the past is not al ways agreeable; still, whether pleasant, or otherwise, we are better prkpared to face the unknown future if conversant with those lessons whijh ~the " lamp of experience" alone can L;i vc. • -- As must he remembered by all ac- . qoainted with educational matters in our county, with the election of -the present Superintendent a new era was to be inaugurated - in our common • schools. As all .acknowledged. the wages of teachers were shamefully low, but from • many parti of the County. came the cry, Our wages correspond to the preparation and professional zeal of many of our teachers. Give us fewer teachers,- and those better prepared. Let ,us have greater efficiency in theschool While , room." of necessity many of the. teacherS are young and inexpe rienced, still, can any one doubt but that apeat advance has been made • in qualifications, in weeding out.the poorer teachers r in the efficiency of • those who remain, and in a general interest iq the cause of education throughout the county ? And yet, : 1 What is the per centum of advance in the salaries of the teachers ? Many complain that the young, inexperi enced teachers fill our schools. Can ;it be. expected that young men, finely 1 1,qualified, will remain long in the - - ,business of teaching when they re ceiveless than $l4O a year. The abil ity that makes a school successful com- • Wands more than $lOO a yeardn other markets where age and experience are joined with qualifications ? We cannot keep our hest young men and women in the teachers' work unless we canoffer them as great induce - melts as other vocations afford. The fernier, the mechanic, the business and the-professional man expect from their business to have homes, sup port families, and purchase the ac coutrements necessary to successfully prosecute their business. Can any teacher expect this, unless he teaches s. in a town ? Is it strange, then, that thy mass of our teachers are young and will remain so until the remuncr ationjustifies them in making teach int! a profession ? Let us hope (that with returning prosperity the patrons of our public schools will encourage our teachers in - their efforts to pre pare themselves, and to, do - better work in . a more substantial manner. Wr. doubt whether any county of equal size in the C4mmonweslth can sow an array of better young men than can be found in the ranks of our ltfadford teachers. Among them can be found scores of intelligent, sail gnine, self-denying; earnest young men. In whatever vocation they throw their energy, it will be. the stronger . for their. help. We trust teaching rhaY be. made remunerative and honorable enough to reeeirq their thaturer strength as well as their youthful manhood. THE teachers in many of our town - ships are rejoicing this winter in • having steady boarding places. A number of townships have wheeled in line. Boarding around is'doomed hi Bradford county, at least in the - 'winter season,thanks to the efforts of . the press, the discussions at the As •- soenitions, and other favoring causes. lt-interferes with the efficiency of the teacher, the good of the school, and the convenience of the patron. .• ' SAMUEL M. HUSTON is becoming a fixture in the North Towanda graded school. He has taught there the larger part of the time for the' last three years. The - directors show -their good sense by retaining a good teacher when once they have secured one; The frequent change of teach ers one of the . greaf , kt evils of our common school system. Miss Edith A. Thompson is Mr. Ifuston's taut. E. A. THOMPSON teaches in ) Carbon Run, and his brother Ernest - Barclay. - The former has a large night school, also. Jleth are good teachers, hold State certificates, and _ ,*e doubt not/ ire making good rec ords. Both of thes.e 'schools are in _session the larger part of We year, - and pay larger salaries than many localities in Bradford. • A copy*. of 'Webster's Unabridged Dictionary was offered at a Teachers' Institute in Pennsylvania to my teacher who would read the follow ing paragraph and pronounce every word correctly, according to -Web ster. No one. succeeded in earning the Dictionary, although nine teach ers made the attempt. " A sacrilegious son of Beliel, who suffered from bronchitis, having ex-' fi hausted his nances, in o rder to make . good the deficit, resolved to ally him self to a comely, lenient and docile young lady of the Malay or cauca tilan'race. He accordingly purchas ed a calliope and a I:Oral necklace of a chameleon hue and securing a suite of rooms at a principal hotel, he en gaged the head waiter as his coad jutor. He -then dispatched a letter of the most unexceptional caligraphy extant, inviting the young lady to - a matinee: She revolted at the idea, refused to consider herself' sacrifi cable to his desires, and sent a polite note of refusal.; on receiving which he .procured carbine; and bowie knife, said he would not forge fetters hymeneal with the queen, went to an isolated spotoevered his jugular vein, and discharged the contents ?of his whine into - his abdomen. The t ilebris was removed by the coroner." - ' - J. T. McCOLLOM, ' G. W. RYAN, Joseph' Cook is the champion of popular education. By his repeated and earnest utterances froth the plat forth he has thrown his strong. posi tive influence against all retrograde movements. in educational matters. He believes that the more culture we have, the more happiness we will pos sess. In a lecture before the Cliatau qua Assembly, , he took occasion to make the following remarks regard ing our Iligh Schools: "There are three links of educa tion, in this country—an iron, a sil ver, and a golden ; o ur common schools, our - high schools, and our universities. " We all believe in common school education. The difference between a fool Who has been through college and one who has not, is, that the one who has been through usually knows he is a fool, and the other one does not. Therefore, in spite of the fail ures many of the collegiates make in life, we ought to believeln universi ties. In the republic of'eulture there are no foreign-lands. What we most need, I think, is a silver link to unite the iron link with the golden, and if our high schools were a little im proved in practical directions, we think in them would be found the silver link." . !WE are glad to hear of District Institutes organizing in various parts of the county. They ean be prothic tive of great good. ,1 We trust teach ers will consult their own interests and that of the schools by attending regularly, and earnestly putting forth every effort to make them successful. MR. 11. S. PATTERSON is principal of the Gilletts' graded school, and Mr. J. S. Boving,:lon of the Herrick vine school. Both are finely qualified and competent to till responsible po sitions in larger schools. CLAYTON M. OSBORN is teach ing the school in South'Towanda, near the nail works. We have heard that he had eighty scholars. Cer tainly enough to fully employ one teacher. THE teachers and students of the Susquehann% Collegiate Institute and the Towanda Graded School have a holiday. vacation from December It) to January 5. THE route to the coal bin is a hard road to travel. IF you want a man to let you alone, to him a loan. A TORCHLIGHT procession always hangs fire—on poles ; WHEN is a man obliged to keep his word? When no one will take it. PEonx who converse at the top of their voices are not high toned. Timm. should never be base-ball play ers. Too many go out on the STRYCHNINE will cure longevity, but the remedy is worse than the disease. IN order to look spruce it is not neces sary that you should remain evergreen. Is our country's cologne-ial day every body had - Wenty of common scents. SAMSON was a Strang' man, yet we doubt if he was able to lift a big mort gage: PRONUNCIATION. THE SILVER LINK Fun, Fact and Facetiw. "I AM going out with the tied," said the blind man ; and his dog led the way. A KNEE-MOTIONAL play—When an an gry mother lays her offspring across her knee. Tur. difference- between a ben and a mouse-trap is that the mouse-trap" can't set itself. A CASE of moral color blindness is that, of a green clergyman trying to enforce the blue Ewes. TnorpLE never conies single handed until yoU ate knocked down by a one armed fellow citizen. "I'LL join you presently," said the minbiter to the young couple, as he went for the church key. Qt iyteNEss in appreciating a joke is a positive advantage, for are we -not told that he who laughs last laughs best SHE certainly had a pretty foot, but af ter all it didn't-make half so much im pression on him as the Old man's. THE reason that old flippers an thrown i after a newly matrried Couple is that the chances of matrimonial happiness are slippery. TnF monogram fever is spoken of as "initial insanity." IsevertlmleSs it pre vails, as Judge Slott says, "from alpha to Omaha." A FASHION exchange informs ua that , " striped parsols have taken the place of striped stockings ;":but we don't believe a word of it. IT is very appropriate that Thanksgiv ing day comes in November. By that time base ball players and flies . will have gone to their rest. SusAx B. ANTIIO ' NY is almost crazy, not because the women of Massachusetts can't vote, but because they won't.—New York Cemmercita Acireriiser. Ax advertisement i appears in the Jamestown Journal. thus : " Rooms de sired for light house-keeping." , We would sriggest applying to the govern-. ment.-oi/ City ; Derrick. • Ax old hat belonging to Napoleon I I was recently 'advertised for sale in Paris. We shouldn't think it would bring , much, as both the Nap and crown are gone.— London Times. . . A CAREFUL political economist closely calculates that the women in this country might annually save $14,300,000 in rib bons which the men might spend in . se gars.—Ballinwre Ne les. . ALL the African monarchs encourage blackguards, keep them about their pal-' aces, and by way of giving them health - i ful recreation, allow them to go gunning' after missionaries once a year. THE school boy will gloat for half a day over the enigmas in a puzzle column, but when he comes to hisi regular arithmetic lesson, he considers that he is the most abused boy in the world. -4 DID yon ever notice that Glen is some thing really Musical in the pitiful. weep ing of your own baby--Go bless it ! and something, everything, endishly dis cordant in the soualing of your neighbor's I n awling young one ? flow is it, anyhow . ; that it always is that way? Dodgy. ANNIE AND WILLIE'S PRAYER. Bq Mrs. Azinie.P.-Silow. 'Twee the BYO before CLrlstmas: "Good rdght'! had been raid, r, And Annie and Willie had crept Into bed There were tears on their pillows and tears In their • eyes, -And each little bosom was heavy with' sighs : For to-night their stern father's comman 1 .had been given • That they should retire precisely at seven, Instead of eight ; fur they troubled him more IVlth qtiestioni uuhyrd qt than ever before. lie had told them he thought this delusion a sin, No such being as .` Santa tuns " ever had teen And he hoped, after this,. ho should' nevermore hear How be Scrambled down chimneys ,with presents . each year. And this way thereason that. two little heads So restlessly tossed on their soft, downy beds. Eight, nine, and the clock 9h the• steeple tolled • ten— Not a word had been spoken by either till then, When Willie's sal face front the b'anketdid peep And whispered : "Dear Annie, is you fast asleep',.. " Why, no, brother W title." *sweet yoke replier, "I have tried it In vain, but-I can't abut tnyoyet, For, tomehoW, it makes the so sorry because Dear impa has said there Is no Santa Claus.' Now we know there Is, and It can't be dented„ For he came every year before mamma died : But then. I've been r thinking that she used to pray, And God Would hear everything mamma would A od perhaps she asked to send •Santa Claus • here Wllh the sacks folio( pesente ho bro't every year.•' "Weil, why tan't we ray lest as mamma did then, Awl ask 111 w to send him n Ith pres6nts attest?" "I've ben thinking so, too," and without a word more Four little barn feet bounded out on the floor, And four little knees the soft carpet pressed. And two tiny hands were clasped close to each breast. "Now: Willie, you ktiow, ire mot firmly believe That the presents we ast for we're sure to receive; You ,mist wait Just as still till I say the "Amen,' And by that you will know that your turn has come • then ;„, Dear Jesus, rook down on my brother and me, And giant ns the Tavot "we're asking of Thee ; I w ants wax dolly, a lea-set and ring, And all ebony box that shuts with a spring, Itless paps, dear Jesus, and cause him to see That 'Santa Claus' loves us far better than he ; Don't let him get angry and fretful again At dearjirother Willie and Annie. Alden." ••Please, Deans, 'et • Santa Taus' tuna down to night, And bring some presents before It Is"ight ; I want he should dive me a nice Ittle Bed, • . With bright shiny runuers, and all ,painted red ; A box full of tandy, a book and a toy, Amen ; and then, Desus, I'll be a dood boy." Theirprayers being ended, they raised up their ' heads And with hearts light and cheerful again sought their beds They soon were In slumber, both peaceful and They And with fairleS In dreamland were roaming In • sleep. 'Eight, nine, and the little French clock had struck Ere the father had thought of hie He seems now to hear Annle's half suppressed sighs, And to see the big tears stand In WLlHe's blue eyes. I was harsh with my darlings," he mentally =I "And should not have sent them no early to bed ; But then] was troubled—my feelings found 'Tent; For bank stock today has gone down ten per tent.; But of course they're forgotten their troubles ere this. And that I denied them the thrleo asked (or kiss ilth. Just to make sure, I'll steal up to their door, For I never spoke harsh to my darlings before." So hying, he softly ascended the stairs, And atilved at the door to bear both of their Easza Its Annle's •'bless papa" draws forth the 'big - tears, And Willie's grave promise falls sweet on his ears. "Strange, strange, I'd forgotten," said he, with a 1933 • How I longed, when a child, to have Christmas draw nigh. • I'll attune tor my harshness," he Inwardly said, Ily answering their prayers ere t sleep In my Then he*urned W the stairs and softly went down, Threw off velvet slippers and silk dressing-gown. Donned hat, coat and hoots, and was out In the street: A millionaire faring the cold, driving sleet ; Nor stopped he until be had bought everything. Freon the box full of candy to the tiny gold ring Indeed lie kept adding so much to his store That the various presents outnumbered a score ; Then homeward tic turned with his holiday load. A.tid,with Aunt Mary's help tc the nursery %was stowed ; • Ntst Dolly was%eated beneath a pine tree, By the side of a table spread out-for her tea; A work boz well!li , led In the centre was laid, And on It the ring for which Annie had prayed A,i4oldier In uniform stood by a tiled, ••\With bright shining runners. and all painted ' - There - were bells, logs and horses, books pleasing to see, And birds of all colors were perched In the tree, While Santa Claus. laughing, stood up in the top As if getting ready . more presents to drop ; And as the fond father the picture surveyed, Ile thought for his trouble he'd been amply paid, And he said to himself, as he brushed off a tear hypter to-night than I've been fur a year: I've enjoyed more true happiness than ever before, What rare I If bank stocks fall ten per cent. more Hereafter I'll make it a rule, I believe, To have Santa Claus visit us each Christmas eve." So thinking, hegently extinguished the light, And tripped down stairs - to retire for the night. And soon as the beatMl of the bright morning sun Put the darkness to flight, and the stars one by one, Four little blue eyes out of sleep opened wide, And at the vine moment the presents espied. Then out of their bed they sprang with a bound, Aud the very gifts prayed fur were all of them I= They, laughed and they cried in their innocent glee, 4nd shouted for "papa" to come quick snd see What presents old Santa Clans brought In the night. Just the things which they wanted, and left before light, ,- "And now," added Annle, In a, voice soft and • low, ' " "believe there's a Santa Claus, papa, I krypw.• ' Wblle dear little Willie climbed up on his knee, IDeterntliled between them no secrets should be, 'And told, 10, soft whisper. how Annle,had said • That-dear, blessed mamma, so long ago dead, Used to kneel down and pray by the side of her chair, , And that God up In Heaven had answered her • prayer ; 'Then we dot up and rayed dust as well as we toald, And Pod answered our prayers, now Wasn't lie . Thxxl "I should say that He was If He sent you all those, And knew just what presents my children would please ; (Well, well, let him think tie, th+ dear Tittle 'Twould be cruel to tell him I dd It myself)." I Blind father : Who caused your stern heard to relent? • And the hasty words spoken so Soon to repent ? - •Twas the Lord, who -Lade you steal softly up Atatrs, And made you la agent to answer their prayer!), Ehriligas *or!). - Reinette's Christmas-Tree. Reinette sat on the lowest step of the balcony leading into the garden —sat and cried softly to herself. She looked very pretty, to be sure, With the tears on her lashes and her great brown eyes swimming in them, and the color reddening on her oval, cheek ; so it did not so much matter ,t,li.kp young Mr. Theodore should 'conic upon her unawares—or per haps it did matter very much. "Nears,, Mils Reinette I What are ' you crying about, may I ask?" said ltheiyoung man. 4 ,Qh, yes, you may ask, but I can nota,tell ; it wouldn't be honorable to " Indeed!" ejaculated Mr. Theo dore. " No—at least I would rather you didn't ask me; `but I won't shed another tear—no, not one. Do you wish to see step-mother ?" T." I don't know as it is ne'cei!sltrY, since I See you," doubtfully,, '" But she says it is indiscreet for me to talk with young men alone.',' " Even with a rose hedge between us? Where is she ? Ido not wish to lead you into temptation "—laugh ing a little. "She is in the music-room." • And Mr. Theodore went slowly up the steps and disappeared behind • the, ;flags door; ~and Reinette,, watched him go, auk hummed .the "Blue Danube," and tore her hands with a thorn, and pelted the children in the neighboring close with roses till they Iled screaming with laughter. Half an hour later,. when Mr. Theodore (tame down the balcony steps, he paused beside Reinette, and said, softly, "1 an exceedingly sorry, Miss Reinette, that you have been so an- • noyed—" "Oh, she has told you l" shrugging her shoulders—for. after all, perhaps it was not so Irul a thing for Mr. Theodore to knoW that somebody had Sought her, though it was only the gray-haired rector. " Yes, she has told me "—slowly ; awl it appears that your; refusal was so•valement that nothing I could say—" "No, nothing, Mr. Theodore," in terrupted Reinette, the vexed tears; standing in her eyes- again. Was 'it: possible that even Mr. -Theodore would have her marry the •gra.y visaged rector? " Good morning, -Miss Reinette," said the young man, kissing her hand at parting. ;' May you live to change your mind !" If he really wished her to marry the rector, why had he kissed her. hand and looked so oddly ? Surely men were hard to understand 1 " Reinette! Reinette!"_ called- a metallic voice from the house, "where have, you been, and with - whom were you chatting? Don't you know that you are due at the almshouse:to sing at old Naney's funeral, child ?'' " I was only in the garden, passing a word' with Mr. Theodore," said Reinette. " With Mr. Theodore !" cried Reinette'S step-mother, as if she had received a " Indeed ! and what had he to say to you?" " What did he say to me? He had too much' to say,lar too much. He is like you others—he wishes me to marry the rector, too." Madame Emlyn had the air of checking her self midway in an expression of sur prise, before sayiag,.— " You see how it is; all your friends agree with me. It is better to look at such things through old spectacles." r " But old spectacles don't, fit young, eyes," sighed Reinette. "I. tried looking _through grandmamma's glasses once, awl everything. was misty and uncertain." " Yon have been shedding tears before Mr. Theodore. Were they effectual Did he take pity on you and propose to marry, you himself in place of the rector?" " Mr. Theodore marry me What are you thinking of, step-mother ? His words didn't sound very much like love-making ; and besides," toss ing her head, " it takes two to make . a bargain of that kind." 'Then she tied on .her hat and set off for the almshouse, Mrs; Emlyn had married Reinette's father when Reinptte was -a child, and since there is no fool like an old fool, he had died 'leaving everything in the hands of his widow, confident,_ in his doting age . , that she would deal righteously with his daughter. But instead of repairing the omis sions of her late husband, -Mrs. Emlyn, after a sojourn in crape and seclusion as brief as decency would allow, left, the child, Reinette, at home in charge of an old servant, and spent her time and money in the citria search of a. Worthy successor to Mr. Emlyn. Failing which, in spite of charms which her forty odd years did not disparage, with man ners capable of deluding .the very: _elect, she finally , returned, with hdr finances much the . worse for bad management and extravagance, said set about economizing. The'first act in the new drama was the dismis'sal 'of the ancient servant who had taken care of Reinette during Mrs. Emlyn's . absence, and who, being now ,past .service, was obliged:to seek a home in the almshouse.- Reinette shed bitter tears at what seemed to her her first misfiii tune, ,and it was old Nancy will) had left a special request that Reinette should sing at her fu neral. - " For then the angels will be there to listen," she had prophesied. " If you would only come of Sab , bath-days sometimes an/ sing to us!", coaxed one old crone After another, clinging to her skirts. • " You are coming to sing here al lus, ain't you ?" asked the little pale children, crowding about her and touching the fringes of her gown: wi•li'ctirious fingers. ". I likes singing. I Sings myself to sleep dark nights," whispered a small hunchback, "but it don't sound like yourn do." • Reinette• had gone to the alms house believing herself the most un-. happy. and desolate `'being in the world—bitter against her step-mother for urging the rector upon her, bit ter against the rector for caring for her and putting a stumbling-block in her way, most__ bitter against Mr. Theodore, becauSe We are most bitter against those we- love most if they seem to underestimate our deserts. Bin belle was a little community to which she could • give pleasure—she, who. had never seemed to please any body - but the old rector. What a. legacy old Nancy had left them !. One 'morning Mr. Theodore over took her returning from her matinee. Reinette fancied that he had avoided her;of late, and was disposed to treat him with a grand indifference. "I. hope you are quite well. Mr. Theodore," she said, condescending , ly, dashing the tears from her eyes, which a call at the almshouse always encouraoed. " Quite. But has the world used , you roughly to-day?" • " The world uses us according to our deserts; I fancy." "Missßeinette turned philosopher, -forsooth! . Then philosophy ought to dry your tears." " They are so wretched at the almshouse!.' she explained, "They were even glad to hear me sing." " Who wouldn't he?" " Why, you . never' listen. You alWays turn your back and look out the window, or talk with step-mother; you'never seem to care." ".I never seem to care P." he tlipeat t never seem to care !" ",‘ Not that there is any reason,why you should listen—not that it signi fies," she said, impatiently. " No, of course it does not signify." "I don't mean to say , any thing rude." -" No, only you Would 'like me to listen, though it ildesn't signify. Women are odd fishes surely. Now it seems to me that . if it didn't signi fy, I shouldn't csre a rush though you Clapped your hands over Tont ears when sang." Ateinette looked at him bewildered. " I wish you would not compare us to fishes," she said; "they are such slippery creatur " es. It's hardly po— lite, yon know. "I-beg pardon. ,The resemblance only lies in the fact that we have to angle for both." In the long summer evenings, while the air was sweet with the .odor of dewy mignonette and roses, and the constellations palpitated across a violet heaven, litinette used to 'sit on the old worm-eaten balcony .and heed the holiday life' of the neighbor ing mansion, where Mr. Theodore and his summer guests made merry. Sometimes across the dropped cur tain a pair of shadows loitered by arm in arm; sometimes a rare profile , lit up the canvas for an instant—Mr. Theodore's profile, with the trisle mustache ; sometimes she watched them pass, two and two, in each oth er's arms, to thedreamy allurement of the waltz that floated out and filled the summer night with infinite stiff gestions and longing ; sometimes s he listened to a rich voice singing,— ...If your love should ever fail, It your heart should p..ss Inc by, Tell toe what else could avail This poor heart to satisfy ?* . One night when she had gone to her pillow early, but could not sleep for the sound of " - flute, violin, bas soon," from her neighbor's grounds, which pictured vivid scenes to her mind's eye, she rose and-sat down by her open window to watch the stars and sooth , herself With their majestic calm. It was late, and the moon had dropped behind the hills, and the last echo of music was faint 'in the distance,. when the misty .gate between Mr. Theodore's domilins and the Emlyn grounds ' clicked,. • and, leaning out, she dimly gue.ssed.7 at two- figures that passed through and in among the shrubbery slowly, as if the night were made fur loitering lovers—the figures of Mrs. Etrilyn and Mr.• Theodore himself. She-had left MrS. Blnly n disheveled end yawn- , ing over her accounts below,- with Apparently no more idea of.spending the evening acrose the hedge than of spending it across the equator,-and hers she was stepping up the garden with that sinuous grace pf heis that suggested the primeval servant, regal in black velvet and, lace, and leaning, -on the arm of Theodore, and speak ing softly and sweetly. --What did it •alll mean? • • Reinette's heart turned - cold within 'her at 'the questidn ' and she crept' back to bed and cried herself to sleep. After that. Mrs. Emlyn 'never-spent half the night across the hedge, when she was supposed to he snug in beA, but Reinette -watched her flight and her return, only to be-more wretched for her pains. The only thing in which she found pleasure was the long-contemplated scheme of a Christ mas-tree for the children of the alms heuse ; and after. .considering a dozen methods - of raising the money, site had at last hit upon a plan which re quired all her strength of will to ac complish, and which had taken all her spare moments since the date -of old Nancy's ftineral to perfect. It was no Less. an - affair than a .concert, to be given by the children of the almshouse themselves, each of whom she had drilled' to sing its role of solo or chorus, while a few were to take part inn miniature operetta. Rein ette's -share . in the undertaking was a profound secret, for her step-mother supposed that Iteinette's visits at the almshouse had ceatied with old- Nan cy's life. - However,. as luck, wou'd have it, the child Who was to have taken the chief part -in the operetta took cold instead, and as the audi ence Was waitint , in the ball, and the tickets were sold, and the thing would a failure without a prinia donna, Reinette was obliged- to disguise her self under' a jet black wig, corked. eye-brows, am) an unnatural pallor brought about 1 - )y the aid of cosmet ics, and step forward upon the boards. But there was one present from whom she could not disguise the 'liquid sweetness of lier'voice, and after her duty was enqd, and as she was' tear ing down to the dressing-room to send on the:me* quaking little solo ist, pulling off her wig as she went, she stumbled fiat° the arms of Mr. Theodore. . " Oh, what madfi you" come here, and find out my poor little secret ?" she cried. " I did not - intend to.do it—to sing, I mean ; it-was. quite An. accident." • " Was it an accident that you sang 'like an angel ?" he asked. " It inust•have been an accident if it sounded so to you: But pray don't mention to any one that it was I. I only needed to raise some money—" " And could you not come to an old friend like me, kiss lieinette if you needed help ?" " Oh, I thought you were step mother's friend, instead of mine ."'— laughip , g biaYely. And her friends I • are not mine." "'I am sorry indeed if I have for; felted your friendship by any ill.en,n sidered step of mince" he continued," " Wilt you never forgive and forget?" Had step-mother- !flirted with and jilted him, and wast he begging - her pardon for preferring one so false ? " Will you forget the past. Reinet te, and let me help 1 you—as an old friend and neighbor merely , if we can do no better ?" "Yon are inistakeri," said Reinette, proudly. " ilm not raising this money for myself. ',I thank you, but just now I am in a hurry. G'ood night."• The receipts of Reinette's novel experiment were greater' than she had anticipated; so that when Christ mas-eve arrived she, was enabled not' only to load the tree, with the useful • articles such aT• the town hardly deemed necessities for its poor-child-.' ren but with the lttxuries of - toys, books, pictures, and cornucopias of fruit and candy, alllilluinmated with colored tapers, burning against the backgrouni of the clark and fragrant , pine boughs. 'lt was a shivering • night outside, decorated with frosty stars and a rosy fringe of northern lights. along the horizon, while in side the old almshouse the scene was bright and jovial ; the fire blazed in the wide chimney-place, tended by a smiling..erfine, the tallow dips burn ed more clearly than on less festive nights,.-while the capering feet of children and the' i triekling of _laugh ter gave the place a home-like air. When the Christmas-tree stood re vealed to the - assembled inmates, 'children of a larger growth and all, the excitement became intense. • " Who planted it " asked the little hunchbank, with open eyes and dis tended mouth. "-It wam't there this morning; 'snre." "-It's jest' like the feller's bean stalk I read about oast, that growed up in a single night, clear up jo heaYen," said another. • I " Yes, but this un isn't rowed up to heaven; it's come down from 'heaven. I reckon." a.Oh, I see. John bring it - in this morning," quoth a small infidel.. - ' " I'd jest like to hey a slip'of that kinder plant," said one old soul. - "You've heerd tell of the century plant, ell ?" returned her companion. "I guess this Were is one on 'em it ain't bloomed here for a century,l'm attrtin." • "It minds me of the apple-trees in father's orchard, when I was a gal," said a third, "jest as if the boughs would break and stint the hull." I " Wa'al, these be windfalls, idly 'way," put in her neighbor. I'd like an orchard of sick fruit trees." Reinette was quite carried away herself .by the novelty of tbescene. For a while she :Amost forgot the troubles she had left behind' her her own homelessness; with a keeper in the Emlyn honiestead, and „the house itself under. the hammer of the Emlyricreditorand the Emlyn cof fers empty; she 'almost forgot that Mr. Theodore-had illusions-concern ing her step-mother, tjaat the grey haired rector had renewed his, pro posai, and she had consented to con sider- it, well knowing that the woman who hesitates lost; For a time she surrendered herself to the pleasure of the season—of looking at happiness through the eyes of others, as-she stripped the tree of its fruit, and listened to the exelama= tions of delight and surprise with which each gift was ,received ; :tor nobody had been overlooked; the oldest inhabitant had her nevecap or her box of snuff, and yesterday's baby had its rattle. .• " And now, Miss Reinette," asked the little hunchback, " where-ii your Christmas present? Tiesn't it hed time to grow ? Ain't it sprouted yet ? Ain't you going to hey a Christmas ' tree, all.to your own self?" • ",My Christmas-tree ,isan • acorn yet," laughed Reinette. {"'That is as you will," said a voice at her elbow, so like Mr. Theodore's 'that it made hcr start and cry out, " Mr. Theodore, how came you here? how could you leave steP mother to come here?" „ "It didn't require much effort, Reinette—you ought to know that." " How should I know it, prithee?." " Reinette, Reinette, don't trifle to night." . "Do you think I feel like trifling,- Monsieur Theodore, with a keeper in the house at hoe?, home! ah! I• shall not even have an apology for, one directly, unless. I marry the rector, you know." " arry the rector:" "Why, what'S so odd about that ?_ Is be not an excellent. man ? And did you not , advise me to do that same thing only hist June ?" • - " I advise youto marry the rector! Never." "Oh, Mr. Theodore, how short your memory is! it was, then, an affair of such small importance in. yOur eyes ? But did you not find me in tears in the gardens ? Did you not ask me why I cried And did' I not refuse to answer? And when you had spoken- with • step:mothei, did you not come •back and say, She has told me, and it appears your refusal was ro vehement that nothing I could say—'l And lid I not snatch the words' out' of your mouth and ' reply, hotlY, 'No, noth ing ?' And now he has proposed again, and—l am-thinking,-..-of say'- ing—' Yes !" . Then I suppose you love him ?" " Love him!, 1 can't bear him !" "Perhaps you love somebody else ?" " Perhaps I do. .Don't you wish you knew ? But you remember now that you advised rue?" " I remember the circumstances, certainly; but we were at cross-pur poses, you and L You thought I was speaking of the rector, and thought you were speaking of—my self." • "Oh, 11r. Theodore, bow stupid of you! . How could I have been speak ing of you ?" • " You must certainly know that I had proposed to your step-mother- 7 ' "Oh, indeed I did not know that" —sadly. : • " I proposed to your step mother—" You don't mean to say that she refused you ?" " Will you be kind enough to let me finish my sentence ? I bad pro posed to your step-mother for the honor of -marriage with her step daughter." - " With her step-daughter! With )Ie !" "With you." " 1. - ou must be talking in your sleep, Mr. Theodore. I never heard of such a thing before. My step mother did not confide your proposal to me. I'm afraid she thought you a more suitable match for herself." "And what do ~.you think, Reinette?" "If I may be pardoned the sug gestiob, I think it would be better to propose, in person the next time, Mr. Theodore, and avoid mistakes." "That is . why I followed you here, to-night, Reinette. Will you .not take .me for your Christmas gift, and let my roof-tree be your Christmas' tree ?" " And the rector ?" asked Reinette, mischievously. • "We will invite him to read the marriage ceremony" "And step-mother ?" • • " She can console the rec to r." And so it happened that Reinette'S Christmas-tree was Mr. Theixlore's roof-tree. Fun, Fact and Facetice Kate and Joe were children small, And crept about the floor, One little chair would bold them both, With, room enough for more. Now JOe Is twenty, Kate eighteen, Yet, strange as It may sem— i. saw the sight, the other night,- Myself, and •twas no dream. For, though they both had larger grown, Vet I will take my'oath That In the parlor, on that night, one chair was holding both. t Wirivt she was young she served a term As calico disturber in a dry goods arm ; She served so well and so faithfully That now she is boss of his hashery. —Savannah Record A VERY:beautiful lady who was hurry ing through the streets of Baltimore turn ed, and in pathetic accents asked a gen tleman. walking beside her to - knock a pickpocket down who was following her: The gentleman obligingly complied. As soon as she saw the fight fairly begun she chuckled gaily and skipped away. The man knocked down was her husband. Tnis,from Peek's Milwaukee Sun, is very good advice : "A man has just died in the Portsmouth (N. H.) poor,"; house, who was one . hundred and eightein years old, and who had been an inmate of the poor house for seventy-six years. Young man, if you' want to live to a good old age, quit your carousing, and go to the poor house." • II IF a young man shciuld mash his hat all out of shape in tpe style of the young la dies' hats, and then stick it on the back of his head, there -would probably 'be some mighty uncharitable remarks as to his whereabouts the night before.—Ban ger Whig and Courier. • Trim words "majolica jar" are pro nounced " ma-yol-ica-yar," by persons of culchar„,and with. such an accent as would be given by a mouth talking while hold ing hot taush.—New Orleans- Picayune, E garnt and foinghold. Poultry 1-latiits. - Of all stocks, - hells are the most easily taught. The edueation of hens can be commenced at any ago ; bat best while young.. They should be 'soused and shut in every night, and not be allowed to roost on sheds, well -sweeps, or trees ; -even a neglect to shut the door on them for one night will cause the timid ones to seek a highei roost the next night, and that can only be found out of doors. This leads to laying out of ilool's—a great nuisance—and to constant loss from'night enemies. At sunrise every morning call the hens 'around you, and scattier a full feed for them ; let this always be done on the same spot of ground: Beep in a convenient place, a reservoir of fresh clean-water, if you have no running strtam. At certain and regular times in the day, you will find the whole.flook there, Throw no scraps of food around the dwelling, or you will teach them to become a house .nuisance. Burn : all the egg shells, or you will teach 'the hens to eat eggs in the nests. - If you coop your chicks, take hen and brood to the ' hen house as , soon as the crop is dis pensed with ; otherwise, when winter sets in you will have !to spend hours every night for a week before they will house well. Protect hens while sitting, by a light board or lattice cover to the nest, so that they shall not be annoyed 'by other hens wish ing to lay with them. In tact, any bad 'habit, or. any which does not suit your surroundings; may be en tirely broken up and changed by reasonably preventive measures. Rural New Yorker. _ i - Salt for Poultry The question as to whether salt is injurious to poultry has often been mooted. To' get at the facts, I have been feeding sat to my poultry, young and old alike, .and. _closely watching the result. I have fed it in Cold mush and hot ; in bran and everything else, all the Spring' and summer, so far, with the following result : The poultry will eat all kinds of salted food in preference to un salted ; they' are better in general health ; not a louse,' of anti ind in young or old (the first ,year 'lave :been able to say so), and they are be ginning to molt, many of : them lay ing as though not molting. Eggs are cheap now, and the hens will be ready for fall laying when the weather is cold I - and eggs 'scarce. This may or may not be the result of feeding salt; Vut I am compelled to believe this to be so, as are some other peculiarities. I have noticed one feature, which may pot be in favor of salt—the hens have seemed to-be more persistently inclined to sit, it being very • 'difficult to break' off the inclination ; they sit much closer than usual. All seem _vorac iously fond of green : food. of any kind, and' have eaten x large quantity of clover, graSs, young corn and other , similar .food. My observa tions,lead me to the conclusion that salf..is a needed condiment for all our poultry, and in all points beneficial to them. Pigeons arc excessively fond of salt in any form,' and why should not our poultry also ? Such being the . .status it behooYeS us to consider their needs and attend to them. ' . Inspect Your Cellars Many of our'farmers who have no special place built for wintering veget ables and fruit,Store them in the cellar of the dwelling-house. - In order to keep them from freezing.Aere, the cellars are banked up tightly in the. fall. No ventilation is provided for, and the only way for the escape of the nosious'gases arising from de caYing vegetables, is through the. openings in the floor into the living' rooms above, Where . it is dealing dis ease,and - perchance death to the oc cupants. Is it surprising that diph theria and scarlet fever, and every other fever; result from such total disregard of the,,laws of health? A person will pay this -inattention to sanitary measures, and then if his Children sicken and die he blames the weather, or murmurs and grum hleS at the dispetsation pf Provi dence—cannot conceive • why ',God shciuld afflict him thus severely. The Almighty is not to be blanied at all in such instances ; the fault lies at the man's own . door, or rather in his cellar, and he ought to condemn himself, and mourn over his own neglect of duty, instead. Whole Wheat for Fowls The Poultry World says : " There is more solid nutriment in whole wheat as'a feed -for poultry, .than in any of 'the cereals, weight for weight.._ It is .an excellent kind. of grain for this use, though somewhat more expen-' sive than other sorts _: but too much of this .heatty feed is detrimental, particularly when carelessly fed 'to Cochins, arahmas, etc. Fowls are very partial to wheat. It helps the laying capacity of hens, but it should not be used except with discretion as to the quantity allowed them daily, An .excess 9f this raw :grain will in duce a looieness of the bowls N'er frequently.) It is easy of digestio ; and should be furnished • in modem, tion, as a needful and most•desirable varjety l ,, _in conjunction with other dry grains, such as cracked corn, oats, barley, buckwheat, etc.. It not more than one-third or one-fourth of wheat is allowed • with the other cereals mentioned, for ordinary pur poses in the laying season, hens will do quite as *ell; and they can thers' be kept in better. average condition than by a iteater allowance." ,S or Stock t)F I have ever be So success ful in p ducing, quantity and' quality of -, or even flow, as where the cows had access to salt at their option ; and ,I know that it affected the _butter and churning, the butter being better and coming " sooner with than without salt. Cur thermore, cattle having salt as freely as they choose, look smoother and do not have a starting coat, as do ani mals which have no salt, or only a trifle At long intervals. May not those favored individuals who sup ply no salt to their stock, fail to dis cover - that their stock is 'supplied, from some unknown source.- Er. =3 To Tell a Horse's Age Aftera horse is nine years old a wrin kle comes. in the eyelid, nape upper corner of the loWer lid, and eyery year thereafter he has one well-defined wrinkle for each year of•his age over nine. If, for instance,- a horse has three wrinkles he is twelve ; if four, thirteen. Add the number of wrinkles to 1341(.1 Pd Yon will always get at it, Colic in ;Stock. A. correspondent of the Mass achusetts Ploughman gives the fol lowing cure for colic in horses, which is convenient at all times and easily supplied. He says he a.. never known it to fail : Spread teacupful or more of fine salt on the, I back of , the animal. over the kidnevAi and loins, and 'keep it saturated,tvi 931 warm water for twenty or thirty minutes, or longer , if necessary. ' 'lf the attack is severe, drench with salt. I have a valuable bull weighing nine teen or,twenty hundred, which had 'a severe attack of colic a year ago last; summer. I swilled salt to his back as ,above, and it being difficult to drench; we put a'wooden bit into his mouth, keeping it open two inches, and spread salt -upon his tongue which, together with the salt, on his back, relieving him at once, and within a very short timP equili brium appeared fully restored. I have for severfal years past success fully applied this treatment to other animals !in my herd. 1 How to Make Cows Give Milk A writer in the Southern Farin . o.. says his cow gives all the milk that is wanted in a family of eight,i and that from it, after taking 'all that is :required for others, Purposes,, 260 ,pounds of butter was made this year. :This is in part his treatment of the 'cow: "If you desire to get a large yieldrof rich milk I give 'your Cows everyday water slightly salted, in• which bran has been stirred at rate of, one quart to two gallons of water. find,lf you !have not tried this daily •practide, that your' cow ' will give. i twenty-five per cent. more milk impnediately under the effects of it, and she will, become so attach ed to the diet as to refuse to drink clear water unless very thirsty. Put this mess she will .drink almbst any tifne ' .and ask fortnore. . The amount/ of this drink necessary is an ordi nary water pail full at a time, morn ing, noon and night, Hints for Horse Trainers Never try to beat a colt into doing a thing, for if nervous he may turn out a vicious horse, and if stupid-he may become . stubborn. Remember that by patience and gentleness he can be got to do anything that will not hurt him. When the horse 'shows signs. of shying at an object do not beat him, but lead him up to it, allowing him to-stand and look aS he comes, close, and after he examines it a few times he, will not fear anything of the kind again. In passing by hedges with a colt, throw in stones !and stop him until he -takes no notice of the noise. Before putting on •any article of harness let your colt smell it, and then rub against his head,, neck and body. • Always start a horse with the voice, never with the cut Of the whip. In starting turn a little to one side; in stopping when . going up a hill d'o the same.—NorrestotrjHearld. • Hints for the Kitchen If your coal fire is low throw on a . tablespoonful of salt and it will help very muck.- 'A little gingeN put into Sausage meat improves the flavor. In boiling Meat for soup use cold water to extract the juices: If- the meat is wanted for itself alone. plunge in boiling water at once. • - You can get a' bottle or barrel of oil off any carpet or 'Nvoolen stuff by applying dry buckwheat plentifully. Never put water' to greasy spot, or liquid of any kind. Brod.steak without salting. Salt draws . tha juices, fn cooking ; it is sirable to keep t6eni in irpossible. Cook - over a hot—fire, turning .fre quently, scoring on both sides. Place on a platter; salt ,thrl pej . )per to taste. Polling battle The thoins of our cattle seem to. be iteitheiornamental nor usetUl. As a means of warfare they can only have consideratiOn, but warfare and goring is precisely what we desire to keep away ,from the barnyard. gnglish farmers, whose herds are probably more precious and closet confined tun in America, have Introduced the practice of unhornittg cattle by clipping the small projections - in calves, when half au inch !Ong. using Simply a strong pair of shears. It is true it hurts the calves somewhat. There will be a littld 'bleeding, but that will stop in an hour or tWo and the calves will soon resume eating. , Facts About Flout Flour is ; peculiarly sensitive" to at mospheric influences, hence'it should never be stored in a room with sour liquids ; or where onions .'or fish are kept,nor any article that taintsithe air of the room in which it is stored. Any amell perceptible to the sense Will be absorbed by flour. AVoid damp cellars or. lofts 'Cthere a. free circula tioq of air cannot be Obtained. Keea) . in 'a cool, dry, s airy room, and nOtVxposed to a freezing tempera ture nor to intense summer or to artificial Illiat for any length of time above 70 to 72 degrees Fahrenheit. It should not come in contact with grain or other substances which aye liable to heat. Flour should lie sifted and the particles thoroughly disintegrated and then warmed be •fore baking. A CHEAP IcE HousE.—ln giving the folloiiing cheap -plan for an ice' house, the Fruit ltei..ord leaves one without excuse on the ground of ex pense. "If you have no- house ready draw one - hundred or more blocks of ice ; pack them 'close to gether in a solid block . on the north side of a building, where the drain age will lie good. After the ice is all packed together build .up-around it a cheap. board or .rail, fence,' one foot away from 4, the ice, packing the .pace between the sides and ice with straw; over the top throw a few inches of saw dust, mrid,' putting over all a cheap roof,.leave.a. good air hole in . the top. Ice may be kept in this way until Septcmber or Gao -1 per." REST AFTER EATtiO.--Tbu diges tion of a horse is - gbVerned . by the same laws lig* that Of; a - man; and' as we know that it is nbt best for man to go - at work the moment a hearty meo - is eaten, so should we remem 7 , bur that a horse ought to• have a lit, tle rest after his meal, while the stomach is 'most 'active •in the pro, ceSs of digestion. Many a good horse has been ruined by injudicious baste in working him with a full stomach. Fon EAnacur.--Roast a raisin and bind on as hnt, as can bn borne. Household Heeipes To RENOVATZ MEWS CLOtIfING.— My husband had a beaver overcoat, for which he paid $3O, which had become so faded as to- be scarcely fit wear. I stook some benzine and de= 'ed the collars, then I. (took nge and 'dampened the coat oroughly with water, into which I previously dissolved a. table :nful ofj coperas,- and then I dipped a dark woolen cloth -into a dye, made- by dissolving about five cents worth of extract of logwood, taking care to put it on evenly and mot wet through.; then; after drying . 1 washed. it thoroughly with soap suds by dipping a (do* in it and rubbing so as to get the dye off, so that it would not 'blacken • -then, by adding a new binding and buttons, - - the • coat looked nearly as well as new. •- To CLEAN iinvisisi.—,-Wash with warm water to remOve grease ;lit-hen rub with a mixture of rotten stone, Ott soap and oil of turpentine, mixed to the consistence of stiff put- ty. The stone should be powdered very face and sifted, . and a quantity of the mixture may be,made—sufli : eient to last for a long time. A..little, of .the above mixture should be mixed With . water, rubbed over the then p rubbed briskly with 'a 'dry, iel:ean rag or leather, and beautica polish will be 4btaine k l, _ 7- 31 EAT SCALLORS. Take small scallops rsliells or small. tin patty pans, and line them .with mashed pt..?„.. ,• , . . it W oes; mince any kind of cold meat, itnd'ini.t With it a little bread crumb_ aiird minced-boiled pnions, seasOnhig to and 'moistening . with little cold gravy ; put a layer. of this over the mashed potato in the , shell, placing a layer of mashed,tiptatcr or the top, smoothing nicely, and press‘, ing at the edges in scallops ;.lay a, thin bit of butter in the brown in a hot oven. Allow one shell or pan to each person. ' - - CHICKEN DRESSED•As TURAPINES. Boil a. fine, large, tender chicken : when done, and while yet warm, cut. it from the bones into small piece,: as for chicken salad ; put it into a stew pan With orie gill of bbilin, water ; then stir together, until per fectly smooth, one-fourth pound but ter, one teasPoon our and the yolk of one egg, which add to the chicken half at a time, stirring all well to 'gether ; then season with salt and pepper. - After letting it simmer ..) about ten minute,, add one-half g'il .Madeira wine, and send to tablc-h t. , SNOW-FLAKE ( I, 3 CDDING:-11alfi a box of .gelatine, the ,whitei, of three eggs, sugar and vanilla to the taste. Soak -the 'gelatine in enough eel-I . water to . cover it for an hour; then add a teacupful 'of boiling water. - After- it is dissolved 'add en iugn - cold water to make a pint of it alto gether, Strain - this on a platter,.put the whites of three •egs in it, ant beat until it is n kill' 'foam. When half beaten, stiffen with white sugar.. , add the 'vanilla to this, and linisil beating : then `put it in cups. When.. moulded in the cups, turn. bem out and eat with, cream. ICE CREAM: CAKE.—Take one-half ? " ettPful of butter, two - cupsful of Su-' • gar, three of flour, Sifted,- and one 011 milk, the yolks of thtee eggs. the white. of one egg, and one and halt - teaspoonfuls of baking powder.' Use the whites of two eggs for the icing.- toil two cupfuls of sugar in - a' cupful of hot water ; keep stirring until it boils ; boil just ten minutes ; pour this, while boiling hot, on the eggs beatenl' light ; best . until. sti ir and cold, . adding one tea-_ spoonful of 'vanila. -Wet 'a .broad steel knife by dipping in water, then smooth the icing • with it. Bake the cake in three jelly cake pans; when cold, spread the icing between. OLD CHICK,EN Put your chicken in a:: pbt, with as much water :is you wish ,gravy. If the' chicken is young, it will be only , necessary to let it come to a boil ; do not' forget- to season it. .Foi 'the crust, three pints of Ilonr,Yub three. teaspoonfals of cream tartar and-a half . t; . Cup of butter thOroughl through it ; one and a half teaspoon- - fuls of soda must be dissolved in 11,..t. water ; put in milk to make it stiff enough. to roll out. Butter .the dish you:tire' to bake it in .(a deep earthen one is the best), . put the dottgb around the sides, — not- the bottom., then pour in the. chicken, bnt'first thicken the gravy. 'Now put On the crust and bale. • .1 A • KEEL' - LIME WATER.—A handy thing " to have in the, house is ajar or bottle of lime water. Pour water over imslacked lime (the quantity is not important, .as Only a certain amount will be slackened); and cork up for use. A spoonful of tilt clea:r liquid_ stirred -into milk, cream bread sponge in danger of souring will prevent , that '.catastrophe. It • also - eleanse% 'bottles, etc., that, have an. unpleasant odor, A person who - needs milk, but whose digestion is weak as not to manage it, will iind inconvenience if into a ,glass Of the lacteal fluid is stirred a -wine-glass of bine water: The : difference in taste is not Perceptible, -- V' l TO CURE Conti.Soaktherfeet 'and.Pare the corn down What allow. withoutpain"; then apply with a, small "brush- a solution of gum . arabic (such as is often. kept fur mucilage.), dry it offer a tire 'till it will not stick 'to the stoeking, and. repeat this application at-least once a day (at retiring is best), without removing the previous coating, for .two or three weeks, Or till the corn is missing.. SWEET BREAD.—Sweet - breads should always be blanched; that is. after they have been • soaked - an.l cleaned 'in - lukewaim water, - throe , : them into Wiling water for five t e en-minutes, according to' their Sir lift them into. fresh cold water to, I let -; . them stand until cold.- Thi makes them firm and white.- :Then cut in slices and fry Careffillyin but ter until they are nice brown. Ile• move them from the pan, make a nice gravy of flour . , properly seasoned with pepper, salt:. and.. a littletlemon juice (not extract), mid returnthe street breads to the pantand let them stew in the gravy. If you have it, 'just-before serving,. add half a tea cupful of sweet creaks, but do -not let that boil. Send to the table in hot tureen. Time - of cooking, after they are blanched, thirty to forty five minntesi.according to-size. . COLORING KIDGLOVES.—Wbite kid may easily be etilored black, purple or lilac, with a solution : 4 one part extract logwood . l and three parts brandy. Apply with a sponge and rub .thoroughly dry, •and keep rub bin'a the hands together so 'as to, soften the gloves. Fon chilblains use Cayenne. pep-: Pet in alcohol or whisky, and bathe -freely. For tough hands use glycer ine and ammonia, equal parts; wash hands glean,. and put on altittle while the hands are' wet; it's the best thing in thc , world.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers