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.