ii i a i i if ii ii
HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher. NIL DESPERANDUM. Two Dollars par Annum.
VOL. X. RIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA.? THUESDAY, JUNE 24, 1880. NO. 18.
Consistency.
Tbore a time to wake and a time to sleep,
A time to low, a time to reap ;
There's a time tor work, a time ior play,
A time for haste, a time ior delay;
There's a time to rejoiee, a time to weep,
A time for the living, a time for the deep;
There a time tor bope and expectations,
A time for iulflllment and realizations;
Poor mortal, whatever thy lot may be,
Cultivate flashes of consistency.
There's a time lor love and a time for hate,
A time to augment, a time to abate;
There's a time to adhere, a time to secede,
A time 10 wound and a time to bleed;
There's a time to endure, a time to forbear,
A time to do and a time to dare;
There's a time ior silence, a time to unfold,
A time ior the meek and a time ior the bold;
Poor mortal, whatever thy lot may be,
Cultivate flashes oi consistency.
There's a time to abide, a time to absterge,
A time to caress and a time to scourge;
There's a time to intrust, a time to decry,
A time lor decoy and a time to espy;
There's a tiuie ior justice, a time lor right,
A time for pity and a time ior might;
There's a time ior the noble, the good, and
the true,
A time to gather and a time to strew;
Poor mortal, whatever thy lot may be,
Cultivate flashes oi consistency.
Charlet A. Fiichtr.
The Red Flag at No. 54.
(Mbs. Ghat to Mns. Thompson.)
Cousin Ned from California, Nevada
New Mexico, and all other places be
yond the Rocky mountains, has been
paying us a visit. You know just what
a jolly good soul Ned always was, and
he is just as jolly now as why should
he not be, with an income of six or seven
thousand a yrarP Beside that my poor
Georges eighteen hundred hides its
diminished head. He is handsomer than
ever, too the same merry brown eyes
and chestnut hair; but, in addition,
an appearance, an air so altogether
distingue that our neighbors nil
go to their windows to gaze after
him. Well, do you know, the mo
ment he appeared I set my heart on him
for our dear old friend Adelaide, who
shali not waste her sweetness on the
desert air if I can help it. You know
I always had a fancy for matchmaking,
though, to confess the truth, I have
never yet scored a success in that line;
my two predestined hflinities always fly
off at a 'anterit just us I flatter mysell
it is uti fait ai conip i. (You will per
ceive 1 have not forgotten quite all the
French we learned 'ogether at the River
ide seminary, notwithstanding my
years of devotion to pies and puddings.
I will keep a little of il out of respect
for the memory of poor Mademoiselle
Laurent who worked so hard to drill it
into me).
t hut Adelaide and Ned have been cor
responding a year or two; he speaks of
hei wi h great respect as how could he
otherwise, of course? and I have
fonlly hoped that his mission to the
East mav have more relation to the
affairs if the heart thau to mining
stocks, as ho pretends.
Well, soon after his arrival three
we?ks ago, Ned and I were sitting in
the dining-room a.one; the children
had starud ior school, nnd George had
kissed rue and gone downtown, after
an hour's talk with Ned about ranches,
and buiTos, and gulches, and canons.
Now that 1 was alone with our visitor
the conversation took a confidential
turn, bordering on the sentimental, and
in pursumce of the idea uppermost in
my mind, I told him I thought it
mysterious, providential, that he had
not fallen a victim to some bonanza
primes?, or some bewithing senorita
with no dower but her beauty.
" And by the way," I went on, " what
was ever the trouble between you and
Ujp captain's daughter?"
You remember of course, Julia, how
much we heard at the time about that
affair how duiing the war 1 used to
read to you, even during study hours,
the letters 1 had received from brother
Jim, stationed at Fortress Monroe,
giving the details, in Jim's rather
satirical style, of the serious flirtation
in progress between Lieutenant Ned,
of Company C, and Captain Darring
ton's pretty daughter, oi the regulars?
And afterward, how some way a
shadow came between them nobody
could tell how, only that Ned was
tasty, and had exaggerated ideas of a
man's prerogatives, perhaps, and Miss
Ditrrington proud and shy ? So it was
forgotten.
And now this same lieutenant, after
hair-breadth escapes from shot and
shell, and scalping Apaches, sat there
in an easy chair by my Baltimore
heater and actually turned pale because
I mentioned the "captain's daughter!"
Love is indeed la grande passion.
He had nothing to communicate,
however; bade me consider that we
were always great fools at twenty-one,
and likely at that time to get caught in
a trap, or, on the other hand, to throw
our chances of happiness away, just as
it chanced to be; he became silent, and
I had not the heart to rally him as he
sat there watching the floating smoke
of his cigar with a far-off look in his
eyes knowing as I did that he had
gone back fifteen years, and that he was
walking the moonlight beach with
pretty Lottie Darrington, while the
band of the regiment played in the dis
tance. From the sublime to the ridiculous
it is always my fate, dear Julia. Bar
ney, the iantotum of the neighborhood,
tapped at the window, and as I taised
the sash, "A folne morning, mum," said
he; "there's a red flag out at Number
61, and I thought I'd be after coruin' to
tell ye. 'lis a foine house, and a foine
leddy, inore's the pity." You see,
Barney knows my weakness, and he
had seen me a tew days before an ani
mated bidder at an auction in the
neighborhood. "Thank you, Barney;
I think I'll be on hand," I replied, clos
ing the window.
"A foine leddy," to be sure; I had
often met her a fair-faced woman,
plainly and tastefully dressed, walking
with two charming children. Her
house seemed the aoode of peace and
comfort, so far as thn nasser-bv could
judge, and what could have compelled
the Dreaking up of so cosy an establish
ment? At all events I would not stop
to speculate it was possible here was
my opportunity to secure a handsome
sideboard at a bargain. As I wished
to be on hand in time to look through
the house before the sale began. I asked
Ned to have the goodness to excuse me
tor an hour or so.
" Oh, I will go with you, Mrs. Too
dies," said he, quite gayly, and ran up'
stairs for his hat and cane.
So off we went to No. 64, where the
naming nag announced the desecration
of household gods. We were admitted
by the man in charge of the sale; anil
such a charming abode! Not a down
right curiosity shop, the effect of deco
rative art run mad, but such taste and
ingenuity everywhere visible. People
with shrewd, hard faces, boarding
house keepers, "second-hand men,"
e yeing the engravings and pretty water
colors on the parlor wall, running their
greasy fingers over the keys of the piano,
turning chairs topsy-turvy, and shaking
tames 10 see now urm on tneir legs tliey
migm De. in ine oay window was a
lare stand of beautiful thrifty plants of
which I resolved to carry off at least
half. The two floors above were neat
and pleasant; but it was the second
story back that wrung my heart. It
was the nuisery. Toys and personal ar
tides had of course bn removed, but
there was a pretty little bed beside the
large one, and two cunning little rock
ing-chairs. The windows looked out
on a pleasant garden, and here was sit
ting old Mrs. Wiggan, with whom I
nao. a nine acquaintance.
" Such a char mini house." said I.
' is it not a pity to break up this pretty
nest? Do you know the family?"
" Poor Mrs. Graham ! She lived here
with her children so comfortablv and
happily.J two or three lodgers on her
upper noor, until a lew months ago
sue lost everything Dy tne lailureot a
banking-house. She had no relatives
in the city; has struggled on, tried to
get boarders, but the location is too re
mote : she sees no wav but to give it
up, place her children with friends in
the country, and try to earn a liveli
hood by painting. She is said to bean
excellent artist, though I'm no judge
myself. These are all her own pictures,
I believe. She is shut up fn the back
parlor; everything taken out of it but
ft chair. 1 saw her a few minutes ago.
The tears were running down her
heeks, but there she sat, bravelv
stitching on her children's winter
clothes, sewing on the last button, and
mending the last stocking poor thing.
There are the little innocents at play
now m tne yard."
Mrs. Wiggan herself (although she
had an eye on the best chamber set)
wiped away a good generous tear ; my
eyes were dim, and I would gladly at
that moment have relinquished the best
bargain in sideboards. Ned, too, the
dear old fellow, looked awfully sorry,
as he gazed meditatively out of the
window where the bright-eyed little
girl and the boy with fair lone curls
were loading dirt into a tiny cart with
a miniature shovel. From the floor
above came the sharp ring of the auc
tioneer's voice :
"How much, how much? Six dol
lars, did you say seven? Six dollars.
seven dollars gone at seven !"
The auctioneer descended with his
followers into the front chamber. Be
fore I knew it Ned was there, and in hi
impetuous way was bidding in a fashion
to astonish the second-hand men. He
swept everything before him; Mrs.
Wiggan, to be sure, stood him a little
contest on the " set," and I laughed to
see her glare at him, while he was so
absorbed that several punches with my
parasol had no effect whatever. " Wat
there insarity in his family?" I asked
myself. By the time we reached the
parlor the second-hand men tad slunk
away, the board ing-house keepers looked
aghast. I made a brave stand for the
sideboard, but it was of no avail; and
indeed most of us sat down leaving Ned
and the auctioneer to themselves. Every
article from the second floor down was
purchased that morning by the distin
guished stranger.
This amusing turn of affairs rather
confirmed my Lopes in regard to Ade
laide: of course, thought!, he cannot
rid himself entirely of those old recol
lections; but he knows very well the
sterling worth of Adelaide, and what
a '-harming, intelligent, devoted wife
she will make.
All h id gone but Ned, myself and the
auctioneer. The latter knocked at the
d Kr of the back parlor. " Come in,"
said a voice, and the burly man swung
the doors aside. The mother was mak
ing an effort to rise, but the little fellow
with the fair curls was clingling so
closely about her neck that she could
not readily free herself. As she arose
and came lorward we saw the traces of
tears, the Daleness of tier face, the trem-
ulousness of her whole form.
JtromNed, who was standing iust be
hind me. I suddenlv heard the words :
"My God! is it possible?" and turning
saw him with a face most indescribab.e
in expression. Of course there was no
doubt about his being out of his mind
too much auction had made him mad.
1 he auctioneer, after ODening the doors.
had been called suddenly away, and we
three now stood there those two gaz
ing at each other, and I at both.
' Edwin!" at last said Mrs. Graham;
"Edwin!" with a voice and smile so
sweet and sad that I did not wonder at
what followed.
Ned's ashen face suddenly flushed all
over. "Lottie!" he cried, stretching
his arms toward her, "Lottie, my be
loved, have 1 found vou again?" and he
clasped her to his heart.
1 he queerest termination to an auc
tion! i have seen many in my capacity
of housewife, but never one like this.
Mrs. Graham was the "captain s daugh
ter," and the generous impulse of the
honest Californian had restored his old
sweetheart her home yes, and the
heart of her faithful lover.
'Mamma." said the little fellow.
shyly, " iuhisge.-.tleman the auctioneer,
and will he take away all our pretty
thiii's?"
"No, my dar ing," said Ned, lifting
the child far above his head, and then
bringing the rouid cheek to the level
witu hW o wn lips, ' all your pretty things
will remain, you and mamma too."
" And you, too?" said Bertie, cordially.
" I like you."
And so these two, after years of sep.
aration, were brought together again.
And in such an odd manner, too! I
couldn't help thinking how differently
1 should have managed it. had I been
writing a story instead of acting a part
in reai me. i suouia nave lound Mrs.
Graham hrst, ana sympathizingly won
her to tell me the story of her troubles.
Of course she would have mentioned
Ned, and of course I should have seen
at a glance that Bhe loved him still.
And then I should have been the good
angel to bring them together, and merit
and receive their life-long thanks, una
instead of that, here was Barney acting
the part ofthtf angel without knowing
it, and my one a chancefor a romantio
adventure spoiled forever. It was
shameful abominable, and then my
plans for Adelaide and Ned, ot course ii
was clear they never could su-joeed
now. And yet I felt delighted.
I went home leaving Ned at No. 64.
What a heavenly change for Mrs.
Graham! How different from that of
the morning looked the sunlight of this
afternoon. Her home intact her little
ones safely near the prospect of the
lonely garret faded away like a fright
ful dream. And Ned, happy as a clam,
for having remembered the widow and
the fatherless. I had them all to dinner
that night. Mrs. Graham is charming,
I will say it even it Adelaide dies an
old maid.
There will be a wedding soon at No.
64. I have already received as a present
a sideboard much handsomer than Mrs.
Graham's. Barney will be provided
for, and we shall all bless the day that
Cousin Ned went to the auction and
bought up the entire establishment
including a widow and two children
not on the list.
It is time for me to look after the din
ner; but I thought I must write to you
this little romance of my humdrum
life. As ever your old chum,
Emua.
Ehrich's Quarterly.
Food as Wealth.
The most pressing care is to provide
for tho food wants ot the body, and the
labor to satisfy these is as obligatory
under the equator as in the frozen
regions near either pole. It is true that
in the torrid regions the earth is so pro
fuse in her gifts of fruit and vegetables,
and the population there is so scanty,
that a sufficiency of food can usually be
obtained by the mere gathering; but
this labor, though slight, cannot be
neglected, and even there, where cloth
ing is not one of the human wants, a
part of every day must nevertheless be
devoted by some member of every
family to provide food for the daily use
of the household.
In our more rugged climate food is
still the most pressing want; and in the
temperate zone of the northern hemis
phere, where we dwell and where the
most dense population of the globe is to
be found.the struggle for existence is but
a continual struggle for bread. Nature
here doe3 not "endow the vegetable
world with such wealth of human food ;
and the fruits which aid man's susten
ance are not here sufficient, either in
quantity or character, to keep in good
active life the over-working minds and
bodies of the predominant ruling races
which inhabit Europe and America.
Man is here, by necessity, forced to till
the soil, to aid the earth by his skill,
and thus happily from her produce
enough food for himself, the Cultivator.
and all those whojare dependent upon
him for their daily life.
Commerce will fill its place in the
aff.iirs of men, manufactures have their
established position of importance, rail
roads and ships seem to be indispen
sable to the comfort, even to the life of
us, in cities remote from the overburdened
tieid. where tho golden gram and the
homely useful roots cumber the ground
with tho promise of the needed suste
nance of far-off', unthinking millions.
Wealth is nothing but food, and the
means of growing it, excepting perhaps
in thoss cool climates, like ours, where
some shelter from the weather, either of
clothing or of houses, is demanded. It
lias been written that paper money is
not wealth, neither are diamonds, al
though selling lor millions; but that
gold onU is really wealth. However
opinions may fary. cich of these is as
mueli wealth as the other, and none oi
them are of any value unless some one,
not tne owner, Iims tood enough and to
snare, and is willing to exchange some
of it for some of these articles.
It is again said, and Willi an apparent
show of reason, that as we may have
shipped across tho ocean during the past
year three hundred million dollars'
worth oi farm produce, and that we
have five times that amount left, that
our home reserve is worth only fifteen
hundred millions. Can this be true?
Let hungry Europe offer again to buy of
us the same quantity of grain, beef and
pork we have just sold her; would five
hundred millions buy it? We think
not; and there is not enough gold,
silver and precious stones in the world
to take from us Our entire annual vield
of food products. Gold may be dis
pensed with, lood cannot. tiold cm
never measure the value of our farm
oroduce, but merely regulates the value
our surplus; we will not sell our life,
nd the life of the nation is its food, and
he nation is the farmer.
A few hundred years ago our ances
tors landed upon this continent, a mere
handful, and planted themselves upon
t lie eastern border of a vast territory of
to them unknown dimensions, from the
Atlantic to the Pacific and from the
frozen regions of the North to the sunny
gulf on the South, as yet untouched by
the plow or the spade. From the new
but comparatively rugged soil ot the
lands they tilled, they wrung their sub
sistence, little dreaming that in the then
unknown lar West vast areas ot toe
most fertile land were waiting, and
waiting in vain for their cultivation.
Gradually as they increased in num
bers, and as the soil became in some
measure exhausted of the elements
necessary to bountiful harvests, our
fathers moved westward, tilling the
richer ground as they moved, producing
therefrom crops of fabulous size,- com
pared with those now attainable in the
East. They who were left behind on
the Atlantic coast, by harder work, more
caretul cultivation, as well as by the
application of large quantities of enrich
ing material, strove manfully to pro
duce from mother earth a harvest of
equal value with those raised by the
pioneer in the great West.
By these means they were for a long
while enabled to compete with them, as
the cost of bringing to the East the
bountiful Western yield tended to equal
ize the value of an acre's return in both
places. But as time rolled on and still
more bad been gathered from our East
ern fields, without adequate return, and
the West was still unfolding myriads of
new fields, the contest became more
unequal. As a country w have, and no
doubt shall for many years continue to
have, a large amount of harvest of all
food products, enough and to spare, but
surely as the sun moves westward every
day can we see the time in the future
when many of our most fertile States,
now furnishing to Europe millions ot
bushels ot the most nourishing trains,
will silently enroll themselves with those
who are now compelled to go down to
Egypt to buy corn.
Russia is afraid of American grain
competition.
The Orient.
The native bazaars of Cairo and Al
exandria reveal to the traveler, at a
glance, the character oi the Orient; its
cheap tinsel, its squalor and occasional
richness and gnrgeousnrss. The shope
on each side of the narrow street ars
little more than good sized wardrobes,
with rooms for shelves of goods in the
rear, and for the merchant to sit cross
legged in front. There is usually space for
a customer to sit with him and, indeed,
two or three cn rest on the edge of the
platform. Upon cords stretched across
the front hang specimens of the wares
for sale. Wooden shutters close the
front at night. The little cubbies are
not places of sale only but of manufac
ture of goods. Everything goes on in
the view of all the world. The tailor
is Btilching, the goldsmith is blowing
the bellows of his tiny forge, the sad
dler is repairing the old donkey sad
dles, the shoemaker is cutting red
leather, the brazier is hammering, the
weaver sits at his little loom with the
treadle in the ground every trade goes
on, adding its own clatter to the up
roar. What impresses ua most is the good
nature of the throng under trying cir
cumstances. The street is so narrow
that three or four people abreast make
a Jam and it is packed with those mov
ing in two opposing currents. Through
this mass comes a donkey with a couple
of paniers of sOil or of bricks, or bundles
of scraggy sticks : or a camel surges in,
loaded with buildingjoists or with lime,
or a Turkish officer with a gayly-caperi-soned
horse impatiently stamping; a
porter slams along with a heavy box on
his back; the water carrier with his
nasty skin rubs through ; the vender of
sweetness finds room for his broad tray ;
the orangeman pushes his cart into the
throng; the Jew auctioneer cries his
antique brasses and more antique rai
ment. Everybody is jostled and pushed
ani jammed; but everybody is in an
in perturbable good humor, for no one
if really in a hurry, and whatever is, is
.8 it always has been nnd will be. And
what a cosmopolitan place it is! We
meet Turks, Greeks, Copts, Egyptians,
Nubians, Syrians, Armenians, Italians ;
tattered dervishes, " welees," or Mos
lems, nearly naked, presenting the ap
pearance of men who have been buried
a long time and recently dug up; Greek
priests, Persian parsees, Algerines, Hin
doos, negroes from Dafour, and blacks
from beyond Khartoum.
The traveler has come into a country
of holiday which is perpetual. Under
this sun and in this air there is nothing
to do but to enjoy life and attend to re
ligion five times a day. We look into a
moBaue; in the cool court is a fountain
for washing; the mosque is sweet and
quiet, and upon its clean matting a row
of Arabs were prostrating themselves
in prayer toward the niche that indi
cates the direction of Mecca. We stroll
along the open streets, encountering a
novelty at every step
Here is a musician, a Nubian, playing
upon a sort of tambour on a frame ; a
picking, feeble noiso he produces, but
he is accompanied by the oddest char
acter we have yet seen. This is a stal
wart, wild-eyed son of the sand, coal
black, with a great mass of uncombed,
disordered hair hanging about his
shoulders. His only clothing is h
brcechcloth, and a round shaving-glas
bound upon his forehead; but he has
hung about his waist heavy strings ol
goats' hoofs, and these he shakes in
time to the tambour, by a tremulous
motion of his big body as he minces
about. He seems so vastly pleased with
himself that I covet knowledge of his
language in order to tell hini that he
looks like an idiot. Charles Warner.
An Adveuture at Lschlne Rapids.
Canadian tourists, or those familiar
with the liver St. Lawrence, need not to
he told of the picturesque danger of the
Laehine rapids. Many traditions find
some authentic stories are preserved of
luckless persons who have been engulfed
there, and the "shooting" of the rapids
even by skillful pilots is always an anx
ious mil delicate piece of work.
Another sad example was recently
added to the record of calamities at this
celebrated locality. In this case, as in
others, the presence nnd exertions of a
famous pilot named Dui.lebout in the
present instance failed to avert the
catastrophe. Ten lumbermen.under Dail
lebout's command, started early in the
morning from Caughnawaga village to
make the descent of the Laehine rapids.
Another raft under Baptiste, also a well
known pilot, set out at the same time
from tue same place; and those who
were on board the last raft saw all that
happened to the crew of the first one.
It seems that, by some mischance,
Daillebout swung his raft out of the
right channel at a critical moment. Be
fore he and his men could retrieve their
error their control of the raft was gone.
in a lew moment mey were driven with
awful velocity into the vortex of foam
ing waters that tue tourists' steamers
Dass through when running the rapids.
Those steamers, steered with matchless
dexterity, and having their engines to
steady their course, get through habit
ually in safety. But with a rait, having
nothing but human strength to shape
her course, it is, of course, lar different.
In this case the frail structure was rolled
over and over and hurled in every direc
tion. She had to go through a mile ot
tumbling, Beething waters for the most
part indeed halt a cataract before she
or any fragments of her could emerge
into the smooth safety ot the river be.o w.
The spectators saw a moving and extra
ordinary sight. Logs sixty feet long
were tossed in the air like so many
twigs. Piece by piece the raft broke
asunder. No power on earth could aid
her wretched crew, and it seemed inevit
able that they must perish to a man.
But it was otherwise decreed. DesDite
this amazing ordeal, and despite most of
their number being lrightlully bruised.
eight of the eleven occupants of the raft
went through the rapids alive. Not
only that but they managed to cling to
portions of their shattered bark so as to
be rescued at last Dy tneir brother mm
bermen who had seen withe ut being
able to aid them in tneir peril. The re
maining three raftsmen perished; and
the wonder is, according to the reports
that have reached us, that there should
have been any survivors at all from a
catastrophe which in former cases has
usually been latai to every man con
cerned.
Jefferson Davis' plantation at Hurri
cane, Miss., is leased by Montgomery &
Sons. This firm is composed of four
negroes who were formerly owned by a
brother of the ex-president of the con
federacy. They own plantations worth
S75,000, hire several more, and do
Ui xe mercantile business at Vicksburg
FARM, HARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
Tomatoes on Trellises.
As an experiment I trained one to
mato vine 1 his year on a trellis and do
not think I shall ever plant another
vine, without some kind of a trellis, un
less It is to experiment. The fruits on
trellised vines attain a large size, are
uicy and do not taste of the ground.
While the fruit of the vines that were
left to run on the ground were rotting,
those trained to a trellis were sound
and growing rapidly The trellis I use
is the same as tne one described and en
graved in the Sural last spring. It
takes but little work to make one. Any
farmer can make all he wants in the
barn some day when it rains. The fruit
will ripen more evenly and ten days
earlier which is quite an advantage.
Moreover the arrangement gives the
garden a more tasty appearance and it is
muci easier to keep the trellised ground
free from weeds. C. 7, in Rural, New
Yorker.
Kill Tour Sheep While Y ounce.
There are few animals kept on the
farm which, when they are in their
prime, pay as well as sheep, and there
are very few, if any others, upon which
old age has such a damaging effect. As
sheep are much shorter lived thun any
other of our domestic animals, it is not
strange that m my farmers attempt to
keep them too long. At ten years of
age the horse is just in his prime, and
the cow is as good as ever, with the
frospect of remaining so several years
onger. But the sheep is very old when
it reaches ten, the natural limit of the
term of its life. After reaching this
age sheep are very likely to be injured
by the slight exposure which do
younger animals no harm. They are
more liable to be attacked by disease,
and if they live they will be likely to pro
duce less wool and smaller lambs than
they have done previously. We do not
think it pays, except, perhaps, in special
instances, to keep sheep after they are
six years old.
Put Clover on Tour Land.
An Ohio paper says that by clovering
hundreds of farms that were about
worthless have been rescued from dilap
idation and ruin. It is an accepted
truism that as long as "clover will
catch " the farm can soon be restored to
paying fertility, and by a good rotation
is even getting more productive and
profitable; for after some years of such
treatment the land will bear harder
farming that is, two or three crops mav
succeed a good coat of clover before
laying down t clover again. Rough
new land should be subdued bv the use
of large clover. Nothing so effectually
rots out stumps and kills weeds and
sprouts, and prepares the land for the
plow and good pay'iig crops. Wild,
new lands should always have it sown
on the first grain crop down. It saves
a vast amount of labor, for in a few
years it so tames the ground and clears
t of enemies to tue plow that it works
like old ground, and is good for full
crops. One great error is often fallen
into, and that is following the old tra
dition that a bushel cf clover seed will
do for eight a res. That mav have bei n
enough to clover land partially when it
was new, but whoever aims at getting
up his land in a speedy and profitable
way should sow a bushel on four acres
so that hU land may b"5 thoroughly
s 'jaded.
lleclpes.
CuctninEK Catsup. Grate three dozen
large cucumbers and twelve white
onions; put three handfuls of salt over
them, ineymust be prepared the day
beforehand, and in the morning lay
them to drain; soak a cupfni and a hall
of mustard seed, drain it and add to the
cucumbers, with two spoonfuls of whole
pepper; put them in ajar, cover with
vinegar, and cork tight; keep in a dry
place. Jiwiah Cookery Book.
Veal Hash. Take a teacup of boil
ing water in a saucepan, stir in an even
teaspoon flour wet in a tablespoon cold
water, and let it noil five minutes; add
one-half teaspoon black pepper, as much
salt, and two teaspoons butter, and let it
keen hot. but not boil. Chop the veal
fine and mix with it half us much stale
bread crumbs. Put it in a pan and nour
the gravy over it, then let it simmer
ten minutes, serve tins on buttered
toast.
Asparagus Soup. -Select about two
dozen of gxd asparagus stalks; boil
these thoroughly in enough water to
cover them; a quarter oi an onion
boiled with the asparagus is an im
provement; when tender take the aspar
agus out of the water, saving the water
aud removing the onion ; cut the asp
agus into small pieces, oi course only
the tender part, and put them in a mor
tar, adding a little of the water; must
be pounded until perfectly smooth ; now
take some sifted flour, a dessertspoonful,
a bit ot butter as big as an egg, and a
very little pulverized sugar; mix well.
and then put on the fire until it melts,
stirring all the time; add this to the
pounded asparagus and the rest ot the
water; when it nas D'nied a lew min
utes mix the yolk of one egg with a
tumblerful of cream, aud add this; it
properly made it wants no straining;
use salt and pepper to taste and a very
little nutmeg; one stalk of asparagus
may be left, which may be cut in thin
slices and added last.
A Wlass Mountain.
Another marvel recently brought to
light in the Yellowstone park, of North
America, is nothing less than a moun
tain of obsidian or volcanic glass. Near
the foot of the Beaver lake a band of
explorers came upon tbij remarkable
mountain, which rises in columnar
cliffs and rounded bosses to many hun
dreds ot feet in altitude from hissing
hot springs at the margin of the lake.
As it was drsirable to pass that way,
the party had to cut a road through the
steep glassy barricade. This they ef
fected by making huge fires on the glass
to thoroughly heat and expand it, and
then dashing the cold water of the lake
against the heated surface so to suddenly
cool and br ak it up by skrinkage.
Large fragments were in this way de
tached from the solid side of the moun
tain, then broken up small by sledge
hammers and picks, not, however, with
out severe lacerations of the bands and
faces of the men from flying splinters.
In the Grand canon ot the Gibson river,
the explorers also found precipices of
yellow, black, and banded obsidian,
hundreds of feet high. The natural
glass of these localities has from time
immemorial been dressed by the In
dians to tip their spears and arrows.
The Ilindeos are imitating the mis
sionaries in circulating religious tracts.
heir tracts are devoted to accounts ot
t exploits of their gods.
TIMELY TOPICS.
It is now tolerably certain that by
the year 1883, when the New York
word's fair is to open, the Brooklyn
bridge nnd the Hudson river tunnel will
both be finished and in constant use.
An exchange is responsible for the
statement that more people lost their
lives in this country by the burning of
hotels in 1879, than by the accidents
of travel on railroads and steamboats
on all the rivers, lakes and sounds corn
mined. Little Wolf, who was sixteen years
old when the declaration was signed,
but who, nevertheless, never saw Wash
ington nor acted as his body servant,
died recently in bis wigwam, near where
he was born in 1760, on the St. Croix
river in Wisconsin, five generations
being present at his death.
A list of the railroad lines either di
rectly or indirectly under the control of
Mr. Jay Gould has been published, by
which it appears that he now operates,
under the Wabash consolidation, about
8,168 miles, or nearly one-tenth of the
entire mileage of the United States. It
is si !e to say that, as far ae
n ileage is concerned, this is the largest
combination of roads in the control of
any one individual or corporation
in the world.
Some years since a cluster ot women
in association with Mrs. Julia Ward
Howe, founded a society whose purpose
was to bring the influence of women to
bear in the promotion of peace. Their
annual meeting recently took place in
Boston, and addresses wew made by
Mrs. Diaz, Miss Selma Borg, Miss Jen
nie Collins, Miss Horatia Ware, and
others. One of the speakers illustrated
the blight of war by mention of the
single article of gunpowder, of which
the annual produetion for military use
was rtated to be one hundred million
pounds, which would be equivalent to
ten million pounds of fertilizing nitro
gen, again equivalent in productive ca
pacity to five hundred million pounds of
bread.
The origin of the familiar abbrevia
tion SS., so often seen in legal docu
ments, has caused not a little discussion.
An exchange says that the received
opinion that SS. is an abbreviation for
scilicet is correct in substance. It stands,
however, not simply for scilicet, but for
three repetitions of the word. The court
crier prefaces announcements by " Hear
ye, hear ye, hear ye," arid in like man
ner writs and memorials of courts are
prefaced, in contemplation of law, by a
thrice repeated "Be it known," or
' Know ye." The initial S of scilicet
is doubled to express the repetition, in
analogy with the familiar use of the
double initial as an abbreviation for
plurals and superlatives.
The little busy bee commits murder
more often than is generally supposed,
and the danger of keeping hives, espe
cially incities, has recently been pointed
out by M. Delpech, speaking for the
hygienic council of the department of
the Seine, to whom the question had
been referred by the police, great incon
venience having arisen from bee culture
in the department. M. Delpech cite3
many cases of fatal results from the
sting of the insect. It appears that
especial danger attends sueh wounds
about the head and face and near the
great nerve centers. The blood, being
changed in character by the poison, can
no longer excite the motor nerve and
asphyxia rapidly supervenes.
A Lover of Shakespeare.
One of the most noted characters on
tho border twenty years ago was old
John Bridger, of Fort Bridger, in
Utah. On one occasion he came to
New York. He did not like the
narrow down-town streets with hi!i
buildings on each side, and com
plained (that he had once lost his
way in " i)ey Street Canon," nnd henn
rescued with difficulty by the police,
lie like the theaters, and expressed the
utmost delight at a performance of the
" Midsummer Night's Dream. He had
no clear idea who Shakespeare was,
but conctived and developed the most
extravagant admiration lor him.
Returning to the tort, he sold stock
and supplies to emigrants and other
travelers as in times pa it. One day a
man wished to buy some oxen, and Jini
said he could have any except one yoke,
which he had made up his mind to keep
at all hazards, in the morning a messen
ger came to say that the man wanted
tni syoke, and none other.
"lie can't have 'em," said Jim.
" There's no use talkin'."
" Well, he wants them, and is just
a-wailing for them," said the messen
ger. "He's a-settin' there, readin' a
book calloi Shakespeare. "
"Eh?" yelled Jim, jumping to his
feet. "Did you say Shakspeare? Here,
you, give mo my boots."
He ran to the corral.
"Stranger," said he, "jest give me
that book, and taue them oxen."
"Oh, no," said the man. "I only
bought the book to read on the way. i
will give it to you."
"btranger," saU Jim, resolutely,
"jest you take them oxen, aud give me
that book." And so the man did.
Jim hired a reader at tilty . ollars per
month, and listened to Shakespeare
every evening. All went well, untii
one night, as the reader came to the
proposed murder of the princess in the
Tower, Jim sprang from his seat, with
blazing eyes, and yelled, in thunder-
tones, " Hold on there! Jest wait till
l git my ii lie, and I'll shoot the scoun
(IrRl! '
As one ot his old " pards" justly re
mai-Keo, a sincerer compliment was
never paid to Shakespeare. Harper's
Mayazine.
Lyman Beecher, on returning home
from church one Sabbath, said that he
had done very poorly. Said one of his
boys: "Why, father, I thought you
were never in better trim; you just
shouted it out to 'em." "Aye, aye," re
plied Mr. Beecher, "that's it exactly
when I'm not prepared I always holler
ar. me top oi my voice."
" Goods at half price," said the sign
"How much is that teapot?" asked the
old lady who had been attracted by the
announcement, "jtuty cents, mum.
" I guess I'll take it then," she said
throwing down a quarter. The dealer
let her have the teapot, but took in his
sign before, another customer could
come in. Boston ifanscrxpt.
What Is't Endures.
TLis trifling jewel which a maiden wore
In her pink ear thousands of years betore
lliis timo in which I look at it this toy
Is hero; while she to whom to breathe was
oy
tn the dark earth a part of it has lain.
No record ot her lite, no name, no word
remains.
And I who ieel such rapture on the earth,
To whom existence is a thing ol worth,
Must soon resign it with regrets and lears,
And this lead thing I write with stay a
thousand years.
M . A. Marshall, in Independent
ITEMS OF INTEREST.
There are 80,000 gypsies in England.
There are 60,000 German in St. Peters
burg. The iron horse has but one car The
engineer.
A five-cent fan makes as mucli wind
as a $50 one.
The mortality in London is only
twenty in 1.000.
There are 3,500,000 watermelons in a
Bingle patcii in Georgia.
A bottomless pit The one inside of a
cherry. Marathon Independent.
English farmers are liable to arrest
for killing hares on their own farms.
Authors are spoken of as dwellers in
attics, because so few of them are able
to live on their first story.
Where New York pays bd average
salary of $814. 17, to public school teach
ers. Philadelphia pays $486.10.
Montreal is acknowledged to have
about the finest wharves of any city in
America. The harbor is lighted with
the electric light.
The rentals of grass land in England
this year show a considerable increase,
while those of corn land show a corres
ponding decrease.
The uses oi adversity
May be sweet as honey's wing,
But we'd rather have some other chap
Than ourselves to teal the thing.
Steubenville Herald.
A Connecticut man has made a walk
ing caneTontaining 649 pieces of wood,
no two being of the same kind. It is
almost as good to club a dog with as a
cudgel all of one kind ol wood.
Denver is bragging about a resident
who is gradually turning into stone
while he is yet alive; but he is nothing
compared to lots of chnps who turned
to brass soon after they were born. De
troit Free Press.
One thousand dollars is a large sum ot
money to pay for a little piece of floating
wood, but if it is found and can be
shown to be a part of the missiny ship
A talan ta, t ie British admiralty will pay
that amount to the tinder.
A writer in the Scotsman avers that
out of 35,000 hams imported into Ham
burg last year, '297 were found to con
tain trichinre, while of 14,000 sides of
bacon eighty-live were found to be more
seriously infested.
The Philosophical society, of Glasgow
is to hold an exhibition of gas apparatus
ou a large scale next autumn, and it is
intended also to make u display at the
same time of the apparatus which will
llustrute the progress made in electric
lighting, in telephonic communication,
in the manufacture of mineral oils, in
water measurement and regulation, in
hydraulic engines, in heating and venti
lation, etc. There can be no doubt that
this exhibition, taking up, us it means
to do some of the most important prob
lems to which man's attention is given
at present, will prove of great service to
ttiose who have to deal practically with
anilury appliances.
" Wrecked."
Few men can hear of the loss of a gal
lant ship without a touch of sadness.
Lite has been compared to the great
, . ,- ;i
ocean, ana men to snips which san
thereon. When a oarK which lias
braved the tempest ol strange seas comes
Home with rusted hull and tattered sail
men welcome her buck just us they do
one of their own kind who has jour
neyed afar and passed through pern to
benefit his race. It is when we come
upon the wreck of a once noble ship that
men trv hardest to remember how well
she served her builders, it is when we
hear that some gallant barK is missing,
IPRvini? no siim nor trace, that men are
awed as they speak her name.
There is nothing tuat win iouuu ami
soften the heart like the sight of the
wrecks which dntt here and there on
life's ocean once grand ana gifted men
now blown tiitner anu lunucr, auw
going with currents, now hidden nom
sight by the mantle of night or the
mysterious log. lie who vioils nu
lum for the insane will gaze out upon
an ocean Whicu is evei cuuugiug
surface and its shores. One moment the
waters will be calm and peaceiui tuo
next there will be the rour ot a stoim
and the growl ot breakers. Uciore mm
will drift wrecks without number
some moving tlowly out of the fog
some drifting into it some skirting the
shores on which Btand tearful friends to
wave farewells others being carrieu oy
unseen currents afar to sea. 11 is an
ocean without a harbor of reiuge. Once
a wreck upon its bosom and tneie is no
landing. Day and night, tor weeks ano.
months and ye.ir, ine aismaaucu uu
dismantled hulks weave in and out ot
the fog-i-in and out ot the suuught
whirl slowly about in the eddies-catch
on the shoals and go driving further out
upon the troubled waters, otoiui
silentlv at work, and
one by one, as the y ears creep on, old
wrecks Bink silently into tue sea nuu "
heard of no more forever.
When men die we lorget tuas wiey
worn lilra tlinaft who Still live On. 0
orget all that was bad in them and re
member all that was goou. c
that tlmv are dead, and the busy world
oioses up the gap and marches along.
QUI wuen uieu u uuu '." - ,T "
to become wrecks to be dead in all but
name to drift in the darkness without
chart or beacon to feel the sh -res go-,
ing further and lurther away from
them, there is something so pitiiul that
eyes fill with tears and hearts grow
tender. They are not dead, yet their
faces are never seen on the streets.
They have no tombstones, yet men read
their epitaphs and forget them. In a
battered hulk drifts a skeleton crew
dritting, driving, swirling, plunging,
and there is no help. The end is a
darker night, a stronger gale and a cry
of despair as the water close over all
nnd roll on as before. Detroit Frte
Press-